False Pretense

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Hangovers Suck
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There was no sun that penetrated the room to wake her, nor was there her little Crookshanks to jump onto her bed. The only thing that managed to get her out of her stupor was the pounding thumping headache poking at her temple. Forcing a groan to scratch against her dry throat, Hermione rolled onto her side slowly.

She winced at the feeling of being sore just about everywhere and wondered for a split second what she had done to warrant such soreness. The last time she remembered feeling as if her limbs were Jell-O was when she ran a marathon with her mum, but she distinctively remembered not running a marathon the night before.

Darting her tongue out to lick her lips, Hermione’s hand felt the soft bed spread around her. The spot beside her was empty, thank Merlin, but just as she was about to tug her large pillow to wrap her legs around she hesitated. She didn’t remember her bed spreads feeling so silky. She always found them to be very cold during the winter and stick to your body during the summer. But here she was swathed in yards of soft silk and they suddenly didn’t feel so bad.

That’s when her eyes shot open. Oh Merlin. Hermione jolted from the bed, which was a terrible idea as she felt the room instantly begin to spin. Her stomach churned, forcing her to cover her mouth with the back of her hand to prevent any other unexpected explosions for the day. The room stopped spinning after awhile, but her headache decided to kick up a notch. By the looks of the room, she was most definitely not in her room.

The walls were papered with beautifully engraved markings, pristine shiny dark mahogany wooden floors stretched over the expanse of the room. There weren’t any photos, or painting with people. Although, there were large, and from what she could garner expensive, paintings of the sea shore where the waves crashed upon the sandy shores. Hermione brought her hand to her hair and pulled it back over her shoulder.

She groaned at the realization that something had happened and she was now going to have to face the facts. Sighing, Hermione flopped back onto the bed and bit her bottom lip as she slowly lifted the covers. Groaning once more, Hermione clenched the sheets over her obviously bare body and looked around for the quickest escape, if that were possible.

The water in the bathroom ran, sparking her eyes to widen just a tad. When it shut off, Hermione swung around and stared as the person she knew she would regret seeing came prancing out like a god. And boy did he look like one. Wearing dark viridian gray colored pajama bottoms, Draco Malfoy looked exactly like one should look in the morning: reeking of sex.

His hair was mussed up, part of it sticking up while the other part lay flatly against his head. It was obvious that he slept on one side of his body and she hoped, prayed more like it that it was facing away from her. His cobalt colored eyes locked with her whiskey colored ones and she nearly sneered when his lips curved up into that famous Malfoy sneer.

“Good morning, poppet,” he said unfortunately extremely cheerfully. “I trust you’ve slept well.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Hermione snapped, sitting up despite her raging headache, “I should have never…”

“Twenty-eight shots,” Draco said with a chuckle, continuing when Hermione quirked an eyebrow, “That’s how far you got before…well…you know.”

“You don’t seem to have much of a hang-over, Malfoy,” she replied suspiciously.

“I didn’t drink as much as you,” he replied with a shrug, running his fingers through his hair, “In fact, I hardly drank at all.”

“What…”Hermione frowned, “You…that’s…”

“I know what’s going through that big brain of yours and to answer your accusations,” Draco said almost seriously, if it weren’t for that stupid grin on his face, “I didn’t shag you although you made it extremely difficult not to.”

“Why am I sore all over and naked then?” she asked, throwing her feet over the edge of the bed where the cool air of the floor hit her toes making them wiggle. “Explain that.”

“You fell,” Draco simply shrugged, “And then proceeded to try and seduce me. Or at least I think, you slur your words an awful lot when you’re pissed.”

“Liar,” Hermione snapped, rising from the bed where she pulled the sheet to her quickly, “Where are my robes so I can get the fuck out of here?”

“Top of the vanity,” he replied, sitting down on one of his large dragon hide chairs by the hearth, “Remind me not to let you in my quarters if you’re going to be such a grouch in the morning.”

‘You would be too if you were taken advantage of,” Hermione quipped, dragging his long dark sheets with her as she cross the room.

Draco chuckled, “And you assume you were taken advantage of? Unbelievable.”

“What is un…gods damnit…believable is that you actually expect me to believe nothing happened,” Hermione scowled, trying to pull the sheets with her but ended up stumbling halfway across the room.

“Nothing did happen,” Draco answered pointedly, “If I needed a quick shag, Granger, I wouldn’t have to result to getting you so fucking pissing.”

Ok, so that part was probably true, Hermione thought as she rummaged through her clothing to ensure everything was there and…it was. She snapped her head around and frowned, watching Draco throw his hands up and turn his head. She struggled at first to pull her knickers on but managed to shimmy it up her thighs.

“The least you could do was thank me for not letting you wander the corridors pissed,” Draco said angrily, watching Hermione pull her blouse on and button it up.

“Well, thank you for not telling me to stop and probably getting a little chuckle at my expense,” Hermione snapped, flipping her long curtain of curly hair over her shoulder, “Furthermore, why you just didn’t take me to my quarters was beyond me…”

“I did,” Draco quipped, coming to a stand, “I took you there but you ‘forgot’ your fucking password! What was I supposed to do, leave you in the doorway?”

“Yes,” she replied, “That was exactly what you were supposed to do.”

“Well, next time I will know. Leave Granger in the doorway and go on my merry way back to my room,” Draco threw his hands up and pointed a finger at her, “You have no idea what went on last night, or what I went through.”

“Oh, poor little Draco didn’t get to shag the cold frigid Transfiguration teacher like he hoped,” Hermione taunted, pulling her light cloak on.

“I give up,” Draco snapped, “You’re impossible. Too proud to admit your wrong, or even thank a bloke for holding your hair back while you vomited all over my loo, giving a very distasteful lap dance, trying to get my clothes off so you can get that stick up your arse out!”

“I did none of those things!” Hermione shouted, her bottom lip quivering at the possibility and cheeks flushing at the probability that it had happened.

“Want me to draw up a pensieve?” Draco growled, striding over the room to her, “I’m sure you would enjoy reliving those moments, Granger.”

“Shove off, Malfoy,” Hermione spat, pushing him from her, “If anything, you deserved what you got!”

“Oh, that’s right. Take no responsibility for your own actions. Is that all you Gryffindors are good for?” Draco said angrily, striding over to her once more, “I didn’t stop you from consuming two bottles of firewhiskey because you threatened to hex my bollocks off but what I did stop was whatever you thought occurred last night. I’m not that bad of a man to take advantage of you…of any one.”

Hermione stared up at him with a sneer on her face and brought her hand up. She did the only thing she could possibly do. Slap him. Draco’s bottom lip lowered as he scowled at her and pushed her against the wall roughly, banging her head against it. Hermione brought her hands to his chest to push him from her but he held her firmly against the wall.

Glaring at one another, Hermione leaned up and pushed her mouth against his. She could feel his expression lax for a second before diving into the kiss. His fingers clenched around her shoulders as her own clung to his biceps. Their kiss was full of fire, hatred, passion, lust. Hermione couldn’t get close enough to him, pushing her mouth as hard as she could against him as his fingers laced into her hair. She moaned heavily, feeling his soft skin against her fingers, her touch.

Parting from each other, Hermione panted while looking into his eyes. Slowly, she felt the world slip away and groaned, flopping against his chest. Draco grunted a curse and lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing. Her head rolled against his chest as she felt them moving across the room.

“Now you’ve gone and gotten yourself dehydrated, just great,” Draco grunted, pulling the door open with one hand.

He walked along the corridors barefoot and in his pajamas with a messily dressed Hermione in his arms. A few students emerged from the Great Hall and stopped abruptly as Draco passed them. He nodded to the students, shifting Hermione in his arms.

“Ms. Perkins, Ms. Grey,” he said curtly, merely continuing to walk down the hall.

The girls leaned over with flushed faces as they stared at the muscular back of their Dark Arts professor. Looking to one another, they exploded with giddy laughter and darted back into the Great Hall. No doubt, they wanted to tell their friends about the half naked Dreamy Draco wandering down the halls.

“Poppy?” Draco called as they rounded the infirmary, “Professor Granger has a little too much to drink last night.”

Madam Pomfrey looked up from her desk with wide eyes and rushed around it, moving quickly. She waved her hand for him to put Hermione on a nearby cot.

“Oh dear,” Poppy said breathlessly, rushing back to her office.

“Wh-what…where…” Hermione moaned, rolling her head to the side.

“Ssh,” Draco cooed, brushing her hair from her face, “Madam Pomfrey is getting you a replenishing potion.”

“You’re…oh gods…” Hermione brought her hands weakly to her face as it flushed red.

“Here you go dear, drink up,” Madam Pomfrey whispered, tilting Hermione’s head back for the oddly scented liquid to her lips.

Hermione swallowed the replenishing potion and coughed a few times as her throat felt like it was icing over. Madam Pomfrey rose and wiped her hand loosely on her apron before looking to Draco.

“I’d suggest you get some clothes on, Draco,” she grinned, “The infirmary is already crowded with your admirers.”

Draco looked up from Hermione and groaned inwardly as a crowd of students lingered by the door, whispering eagerly. Hermione groaned and sat up, running her fingers through her curly hair.

“I’m never drinking again,” she whined, looking at a hand that shot out to her.

“Let’s hope you never drink again,” Draco replied, watching Hermione grasp onto it and helped her from the cot. “I’d…uh…button up if I were you.”

“Wh-a?” Hermione glanced down and saw that her chest was spilling out of her blouse, which hadn’t been buttoned all the way.

Gasping she grasped onto her shirt and pulled it tightly together, huffing when a strand of hair fell in front of her. Draco brought a hand out and tucked the fly away strand behind her ear, slowly leaning in. She stared up at him with wide eyes and leaned back, pushing him with her hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Kissing you,” he replied with a grin, “Shouldn’t a hero get a kiss every now and again?”

“You’re hardly a hero, Malfoy,” Hermione grunted, “And no, not every hero should get one. I need to do things today so…yeah.”

She pushed past him and strode into the hall where a group of fifth years darted away from the door. Quirking an eyebrow at them, Hermione put on her best teacher face on.

“Don’t you all have classes to get to?” she asked, watching them hurry off.


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Snape Gives Relationship Advice? Whaaa?
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Hermione sat at the faculty table during dinner with a somber attitude. Draco hadn’t shown for dinner, but that didn’t really bother her one bit. Severus kept glancing at her for some odd reason, his coal colored eyes tracing over the sour expression on her face. He chewed his chicken slowly and placed his knife and fork on the edges of his plate before bringing a napkin to the thin line of his lips.

“The school has been in an uproar about this morning. Not every day a half naked teacher escorts a fellow teacher to the infirmary,” he simply said, glancing to the students, “I daresay Draco has opted to have his dinner in his quarters to spare you the looks.”

“And I should care because?” Hermione grumbled, stabbing her own piece of chicken with her fork, “He can do whatever bloody hell he’d like…I’m not one bit embarrassed and he should be. Lying git.”

“What has been lying about,” Severus asked, taking his goblet and refilling it with pumpkin juice.

“Oh the usual,” Hermione waved her hand dismissively, “First he has the audacity to try and be friendly after…after last night’s horrible…horrible…”

“Ah yes,” he replied with a nod, “Let’s just be thankful you arrived after curfew.”

Hermione looked from her plate and stared at the Professor, “You saw me? When I was…pissed?”

Snape nodded, “I’m afraid most of the faculty bared witness to your…shall I say heavy inebriation.”

“Oh gods,” Hermione buried her head into her hands, feeling a few eyes on him, “I was probably acting like…I don’t know how I acted…”

“You fell down a few flights of stairs,” Severus’ tight lined mouth moved upward to form a grin, “Starting singing loudly and admitted your undying love for Mr. Malfoy.”

“I what?” Hermione gaped, eyes wide with fear, “I didn’t not!”

Severus nodded, “Afraid so. Mr. Malfoy was quite the gentleman, considering that we both know what he is capable of. Decided to take your drunken state onto his own hands and quite literally dragged you by the waist to his quarters.”

“Urgh,” she grumbled and folded her napkin, “this is just horrible. I’m not a child, nor a teenager. I shouldn’t be acting like this.”

“You’re not speaking of the previous night are you?” Snape asked, folding his own napkin, “You’re talking about how you’re behaving around Mr. Malfoy.”

“Do you have to be so gods damn observant,” Hermione countered, glaring at Snape as he nodded, “Fine, yes. Yes I’m talking about that.”

“Then I suggest you go speak to him,” Severus shrugged, “Unless you want to try and forget it.”

“No, no,” Hermione shook her head and pushed her chair back, “You’re right. Fess up to my responsibilities and swallow my pride. Good night, Severus.”

“Mmm,” Snape turned back to his meal as Hermione walked slowly out of the room, ignoring the eyes on her back.

“I daresay, Professor Snape…” Sprout said whilst leaning over Flitwick, “Since when do you give love advice.”

Snape snorted, “Since I’d have to endure Mr. Malfoy’s complaints for months.”

“Reckon they’ll sort it all out?” Flitwick piped up, chewing on a carrot.

“Let’s hope,” McGonagall added in, “I can’t bear to listen to Ms. Granger storm into my office with a list of complaints about him. The sooner she realizes they are meant for each other, the better. Now, lemon toffee anyone?”