Author's Note: I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you hanging for so long. I swear. Real life kicked my ass, friends. Just fucking walloped me. I've been open in the past about my struggles with mental health and it's been a rough one. But - I'm back! Yay? And not only that, I have words! Words for you, and you, and you. Please don't kill me? All the love to my girl, LaBelladoneX, who makes my words look pretty - and ensures they make sense. I love you to the moon and back, Mistress Rachel.

As always, I don't own shit.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

I slept with Draco.

Draco's cee-oh-cee-kay had been inside my va-jay-jay. But, oh! What a pretty peen that boy has - all hard, pale pink, smooth skin - like crushed velvet over steel. A delicious twinge between my legs snapped me out of it. Ugh. No, no, I couldn't think that way. I couldn't allow myself to entertain fantasies about the pretty man with an even prettier penis.

Fuck my life. Or, ya know, fuck me since I'm such a whore.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't even articulate a normal, rational response. I just stuttered my way through several variations of 'I'm okay' and very nearly pulled a Buckwheat.

I'm o-o-o-tay. Wink and smile.

Thankfully, common sense prevailed to make sure I didn't make an even bigger arse of myself.

Jesus, what had I been thinking last night? I mean, okay, I drank a lot. Like, a lot. And sure, I was a little drunk so my inhibitions were down.

And p.s., have you seen Draco Malfoy?

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! That boy is a wet dream come true. And goodness did that wet dream come true. So did I. Come, that is. Again and again and again. Gah.

But that was beside the point; I took advantage of him. The poor guy was dealing with enough emotional baggage to crush Atlas and I snuck in all ninja-like and seduced him.

I couldn't get out of his bed or room fast enough. I felt so fucking bad. I offered a piss-poor apology and ran like the hounds of hell were chasing me. Obviously, I hadn't thought things through entirely as my room was right next to Draco's and there were very few options for avoiding him.

Yeah. I'm a fucking idiot.

So, I slapped my 'You Shall Not Pass' tag on the doorknob, locked myself in and dove under the covers.

The childhood mentality had officially taken over.

He can't see me, I can't see him. As long as I'm hidden beneath these magical blankets, I'm invisible. It's like I never existed. And if I never existed, then I didn't sleep with Draco Malfoy last night and everything is right with the world.

Shut up. I knew it was stupid. But stupid was all I had at that moment.

And quit snickering. It hurts my feelings.

Sniff.

o-O-o

"Hermione…please," Draco begged from the other side of my locked door. "Talk to me."

I held my breath. Perhaps if I made absolutely no noise whatsoever, he would believe aliens had abducted me and go away.

Or, you know, I had left the apartment. Emigrated to the Virgin Islands. Whatever. Potato, potahto.

"Hermione I know you're in there. Your keys and purse are still by the front door."

Fuck.

"Come on, princess. You can't avoid me forever."

Oh, you'd better just watch me, Draco Malfoy. I'm a master at avoidance - black belt even. I snickered quietly at my thoughts before remembering I was pretending I wasn't home and slapped a hand over my traitorous mouth.

"Hermione. Open the damn door!"

Ooh, he sounded angry.

I couldn't help but imagine that vein on his forehead thrumming with his pulse, and his flushed cheeks - not unlike when he was on the brink of orgasm. Draco's O-face is amazeballs. No lie. But that train of thought did nothing to help and only compounded my guilt. In the end, I decided to follow his lead.

"Draco, can you not fucking read?" I yelled, trying to sound angry and annoyed. I'm pretty sure I just sounded like a PMS-ing thirteen-year-old girl. "You. Shall. Not. Pass. Now go away… I-I'm busy."

"Hermione, baby…" Draco all but crooned through the door. Gah, not fucking fair dude. Calling me baby did things to me. Like, my heart thumped irregularly against my ribcage and my lady bits tingled.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" I shrieked, wielding my imaginary Gandalf the Grey staff before covering my head with the blankets once again.

I was going to Hell. Or perhaps, I was already in Hell.

I hadn't decided yet.

o-O-o

I had to hand it to Draco, he was a persistent little bastard. He kept pleading with me to open the door until he had to get ready and go open the bar. Luckily for me, he owned the damn thing and couldn't shirk the responsibility because his roommate made a clusterfuck of his romantic life. I hadn't heard a peep from Theo or Blaise all morning, and I didn't know if Draco had told them about our situation or if they hadn't come home at all the night before.

I wasn't sure which I was hoping for. I knew our 'roll in the hay' would come out eventually so part of me hoped Draco had divulged it so I wouldn't have to. Then again, I really didn't want to face the teasing from the other guys when all was out in the open. I could already hear the 'bow-chicka-bow-wows' and see the pelvic thrusting as they danced around me in a circle.

I groaned loudly and sunk further into my mattress. This entire situation was my fault but that didn't mean I couldn't feel sorry for myself. Only I could fuck up so royally. Truly. I don't believe anyone is more qualified to fuck up life than Hermione Fucking Granger.

"Hello?" A timid, masculine voice called out from what sounded like the living room. I pulled a corner of my duvet down and peeked around it.

"Hello?" I parroted. I wondered if I'd officially lost my mind, or if my very own version of Jiminy Cricket had popped by for a visit to tell me what an arse I was. I heard shuffling coming toward my bedroom and decided I should probably get out of bed and investigate.

I mean, for all I knew, it could be some crazy serial killer coming to end me or something. I wasn't completely unwilling to die. A brutal death by the hands of some deranged psychopath seemed on par with death by mortification. So, I was cool with that fate. In fact, it almost seemed like a more noble death.

I pulled my door open just as Lady Killer made it to my room. He was tall and lanky, well fit but not overly muscled with dark messy hair and playful hazel eyes. The potential murderer was easy on the eyes, that was certain. I couldn't see his ass, but I bet you could bounce a quarter off it. He looked the type.

"Hermione?" He questioned bashfully, a rosy tint warming his cheeks.

Huh. Maybe my Jiminy Cricket theory had merit.

"Yes, conscience?" I looked at him more closely. He had on a pair of dark eyeglasses, the frames screaming 'NERD CHIC' and what appeared to be a Dr Who hoodie.

My conscience was a fuck-hot geek.

I could totally deal with that. Yummy.

He chuckled, a low and smooth sound that would have most women swooning. "I'm Neville."

Yep, definitely my conscience. Only I could come up with a name like that. Man, Pinocchio got the shaft. I'd prefer my fuck-hot Neville to a talking bug any day.

"I'm Draco's cousin."

Oh, fuck me up the ass.

Eat shit and die, Disney.

"Oh." I squeaked and felt the heat spread across my cheeks and down my neck. I had to resemble a tomato. "How… nice."

Again, Neville chuckled, but there was a gentle kindness in his eyes that put me at ease.

"I heard you've had a pretty rough morning," he murmured with a crooked smile that reminded me so much of Draco's, my stomach did a flip.

"You heard? So… Draco called you?" I asked warily. "Did he, uh, happen to say… anything… else?" I couldn't help but wince at how nervous and tinny my voice sounded to my own ears.

Neville's smile faltered, which was a terrible shame as he looked quite handsome with it, before letting loose a gusty sigh.

"Yes. He rang me up not too long ago, frantically begging me to come over here and check up on you. Oh!" He gasped and held out a bag and take-away cup I had somehow overlooked. "This is for you. Blueberry crumble and Earl Grey, two creams, one sugar?"

He honestly looked so nervous that he might have gotten it wrong, that even if those weren't my absolute favourites I would've acted as if they were.

"Yes," I responded softly and took the proffered treats from his rather large hands. You know what they say about men with large hands, right? Or, wait, was it feet? Oh well, it's not important. "Would you like to come in and make yourself comfortable, Neville?"

The crooked smile returned and he sauntered in with more confidence than I'd ever felt in my life. I returned to my nest of blankets and pillows while Neville surveyed all my odds and ends and I stuffed my face in a very unladylike manner. Thank fuck he was too busy ooh-ing and ahh-ing over my Dr Who merch, else I'd feel even more embarrassed. But the slight hangover from all the champagne guzzling was ebbing with each bite of the exquisite muffin, and the tea was absolute perfection.

"Say, Neville?" I mumbled around a mouthful, manners be damned. He turned, leaning against my tall dresser and crossing his arms across his broad chest. He gave me that man nod all guys seem to do, you know the one. "How did you know what to order for me?" It had been niggling away from the moment he held the goodies out for me to take.

"Isn't that obvious, Hermione?" Neville asked with a perfect imitation of his cousin's smirk. At my blank stare, he rolled his eyes so hard I was genuinely afraid he might hurt himself and shook his head. "Lord, give me strength." It was said under his breath, but I heard it. And the glare I sent his way had him holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Don't antagonize the broody munchkin. Got it. Jeez, straight people are so dramatic."

Okay, filing that away for later discussion.

"Spill," I all but growled.

With a long-suffering sigh, Neville stalked across my bedroom and flopped face first onto my mattress with a groan. Eventually, he turned to face me and cocked a brow, "Draco, darling. He called me, all torn up and damn near hysterical. Honestly, short stuff, it kind of scared me. He doesn't get that way, you know? Stoic, stiff-upper-lip - that's how he was raised. But you-" a long, tapered finger booped my nose which, I cannot lie, made me giggle like a school girl "-have seemed to throw my dearest, darling cousin for a loop and I love it."

"No, Neville," I groaned and sighed morosely. "I haven't thrown him for a loop. I took advantage of him in a compromised state and now he probably feels some kind of obligation towards me or something. I've made a right mess of things." As much as I despised it, tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and my chin wobbled uncontrollably.

Those kind, gentle eyes of Neville's narrowed ever so slightly before he clicked his tongue and sat upright.

"Stop that right this instant or I swear to Gucci, I will slap the shit out of you."

Ooookay. Hadn't been expecting that.

"You didn't take advantage of Draco."

I opened my mouth to refute him, but he held a finger to my lips and shook his head.

"Listen to me, Hermione. My cousin has never, ever called me in a panic ordering me to go get a girl breakfast, come to his place and make sure she's okay, stay with her - just in case - until he can make it home. He's in deep. And he feels like a total arse, which in my opinion, he most definitely is-" I cut him off.

"Hey! Draco is not an arse! I took advantage-" He loudly interrupted my rant.

"Oh-ho, a feisty one. I like you, short stuff. But shut up and listen to Neville for now, mkay?"

I sat back against my headboard with a petulant frown but said nothing else.

"Good girl," Neville smiled. "My cousin has been crushing on you for weeks, dollface. Emotionally stunted fool. He means well, believe me. He just - well, you met Astoria. You know the story. Draco doesn't see himself as worthy, for some stupid reason. And what with you locking yourself up in your bedroom, your tear-stained cheeks, and this ridiculous notion that you somehow took advantage of an all-too-willing participant in your sexual escapades, I'm willing to bet everything I own that you return his feelings? Am I right?"

I could only blink at him in response as my mind raced. He couldn't possibly be telling the truth, could he? I mean, we did spend more time together than anyone else in the flat, but that was only because we had the most relaxed schedules, wasn't it? Though, he had to have paid closer attention than I realized to know my go-to favourites and the shop they came from. My mind drifted back to the evening we spent watching sappy movies and the way his fingers had combed through my curls, and when the films would take a sad turn, he had pulled me closer, often commenting derisively on whatever shitty thing had made me cry.

"So, this Edward promises Bella forever and then leaves the moment his adopted brother has a moment of weakness? She's was bleeding, for fuck's sake, and he didn't actually hurt her. Just vamped out for a minute. What a bloody wanker."

"Why the fuck didn't Rose just scoot over? Plenty of room on that damn door. Jack's better off, she's a cold-hearted cunt.""I would absolutely rip my mother up one side and down the other if she ever hid letters from my girl from me. How horrid. All because he wasn't rich? Disgusting."

"Oh," I breathed.

"Aha, little miss is starting to put two and two together, is she?" Neville asked in a ridiculous sing-song voice.

"Oh," I said again. "Oh, my God. Neville!" I all but shrieked. "I screamed at him when he was so sweet earlier. I acted like a lunatic first thing this morning! Fuck my life," I groaned and fell back against my pillows.

"Yes, but you weren't aware of any of this at the time, sweetheart," Neville crooned at me, brushing a few stray curls back from my forehead. "I told you - he acted like an arse."

"No," I murmured, meeting his hazel stare and shook my head. "He was afraid of being hurt again, I understand that all too well. I can't blame him for something I probably would have done myself if the tables were turned."

A slow, soft smile spread across his handsome face.

"I really like you, Hermione. You're perfect for him." And I could tell he meant every word.

Chewing my bottom lip - a nervous habit I could never seem to shake - I couldn't help but whisper, "You really think so?"

"Oh no, honey. I know so." Neville chuckled and mussed my hair playfully before standing. "So, are you going to get up and go get your man, or am I going to have to sit here and babysit you for the rest of the afternoon and evening until my cousin returns?"

"You swear, Neville? I really don't think my heart could take it if you're just playing with me right now." I hated doubting such a sweet man, but one heartbreak this year was more than enough for me.

"Sweetheart," Neville said with a sigh and took my much smaller hands in his, "I cross my heart and hope to die, Draco's half mad for you and is honestly worried sick he's ruined everything. His exact words to me this morning were: 'Nev, I swear, mate, she's absolutely barmy - but it's somehow the most endearing thing about her. And when she smiles, it lights up the whole damn room. The way she handled Astoria? The way she saved me from that evil troll's clutches? And damn it all, Nev, it was just a brush of lips - meant to piss of Astoria, I'm sure - but it absolutely wrecked me. I can't let this be the end of it, I can't.' Now, you tell me, Hermione - would a bloke say that to a member of his family if he didn't really mean it?"

I could feel my heart hammering away, banging against my sternum as if it were ready to break free and chase Draco down on its own. My throat was dry, just as well, I had no words. Instead, I silently slipped my hands from Neville's, stood on shaky legs and crossed the room to where my mobile was charging. Snatching it up, I wandered back to the bed, all the while my fingers were furiously typing out a message to Ginny. My cry for help sent, I finally met Neville's slightly worried gaze before offering a small grin.

"I need to hop in the shower before my best friend, Ginny, arrives. Will you be okay on your own here for, I don't know, say fifteen minutes?"

The shit-eating grin that lit up his face was almost laughable.

"Can I rummage through your closet and pick out your outfit to go get your man?" The gleam in his eyes made me chuckle.

"Go ahead, but I'll warn you now if it's not up to her standards, Ginny will veto it and you won't win an argument with her. Model and all that." He waved a dismissive hand in my direction as he sauntered over to my closet.

Mood soaring, I paused at the door and called over my shoulder, "Say, does this make you my new, gay best friend?"

"It sure does, baby girl. Now stop stalling and go get your tiny arse in the shower before I throw you over my shoulder and drop you in there myself," he warned without sparing me a second glance.

"I'm going, I'm going," I muttered and rolled my eyes. He and Ginny would be thick as thieves in no time.

God help me.

o~O~o

Monstrous butterflies, the size of Gandalf's eagles, were performing mating rituals in my stomach all through my shower and blowing out my hair. When I finally stood in front of the mirror and took stock of my reflection, I honestly didn't know what to think. My eyes were too large and overly bright, my cheeks seemed to be permanently stained crimson, and there was a significant tremble in my hands. Fearful I would end up emptying the contents of my stomach if I didn't calm the fuck down, I grabbed the sides of the sink and dropped my chin to my chest, taking deep breaths in through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth.

It just wouldn't do to have a nervous breakdown in the bathroom.

"It's just Draco," I whispered to myself. It didn't help. Flashbacks from the night before flashed through my mind, highlighting every which way the man was absolute perfection. I couldn't help but groan loudly and stamp my feet, just a bit. Why did this always have to be so bloody hard?

It was then that my brain must have taken pity on me and decided to unearth another memory of our evening together. It wasn't much - just Draco gazing into my eyes whilst we slowly swayed to the music, but enough to settle my nerves, if only a little. There was something there, hidden in those pale eyes of his - and I wanted more. I gave my reflection a decisive nod and spun on my heels; nothing would stop me now.

Marching with purpose, I made a beeline for my bedroom, only slowing when I heard the raised voices of Neville and Ginny.

"It's too plain!" My feisty ginger cried.

"So you want to make her a mini-you, instead? He fell for Hermione, Ginny. Not you. Please, trust me here," Neville countered bravely.

"But it's just jeans and a blouse. She'd look so good in the blue dress." There was a definite whine in Ginny's voice and my eyes widened.

Holy fucking shitballs, Batman! Neville's actually winning an argument with Ginerva "I'm Right, you're wrong so deal with it" Weasley? Hope Lucifer enjoys the cold as much as the endless hellfire and whatnot.

"Did they, or did they not, just attend a very formal event together - only yesterday? Believe me, she does not need to waltz into the pub looking like she came straight from the catwalk. Hermione could go after him in a burlap sack and Draco wouldn't notice, nor care," Neville soothed. "Level the playing field for them both. He'll be too intimidated by the sex vixen look, and be honest, would she really be comfortable in that?"

I waited with bated breath as the silence stretched on, only the tiniest bit worried Ginny had strangled him with one of my many scarves, before…

"Fine," came the curt reply. "But I am in charge of makeup and hair, and if you so much as look at me sideways, I will fuck you up."

"Kinky," Neville laughed. "Deal, gorgeous."

Crisis averted, I took a deep breath and tried to put on a nonchalant air as I strolled into my room. I barely crossed the threshold before two sets of hands grabbed me, forced me down on my vanity's bench and ordered me not to move.

Rude.

o~O~o

I had to give it to the Deranged Duo, when all was said and done, I looked like a doe-eyed girl next door. Ginny went light and romantic with my make-up, and tamed my insane curls into soft waves. The sleeveless chiffon blouse hugged my curves in all the right places, and was the prettiest shade of periwinkle I'd ever seen. My jeans fit like a second skin and I was almost positive I hadn't bought them myself. A pair of silver flats finished the look.

It was a struggle to believe my eyes - I looked like me - but also like a clone that was superior in every way.

Ginny and Neville took their leave after accepting my repetitive, and emotional thanks, offering last minute motivation when I damn near tackled each of them with hugs.

"You can do this, babe." Ginny and her endless supply of optimism.

"He won't know what hit him, dollface." With his crooked smile and honest eyes, Neville effortlessly reassured me.

Alone in my inner sanctum once more, I looked around for a moment before hastily scurrying out of my room and made a beeline for the door. So lost in thoughts of what I could say, I rushed right past Blaise and Theo without noticing their presence. Or, I would have.

"Go get 'im, girl!" Blaise called out with a purr to rival that of Eartha Kitt. Fighting back a shudder of revulsion, I grabbed my bag and keys, pausing briefly as I opened the door.

"Douchebag jar, Blaise!" I shouted.

"I was being motivational!" He retorted with a whine.

"In a gross way! Jar!" I sent a fiery glare over my shoulder before slamming the door behind me, grinning when Theo's hand whacked the back of said douchebag's head.

The mad dash to Draco's pub was nothing but a blur. One-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eaters could have attacked the city and I would have been none-the-wiser. All I could see were those soft eyes staring down at me like I was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen - which only served to make me break into a light jog. I could only bring myself to slow down when the pub came into view.

I half expected the nerves to return in full force, but no. No tremor shook my hand as I pulled the door open. My stomach wasn't twisted up in knots as I quietly made my way inside. There was no flop sweat, or inappropriate singing - just an almost giddy sense of anticipation.

I froze as my eyes fell on his form. Elbows resting on the bar, with his face buried in his hands and looking every inch of defeated - stood Draco Malfoy. One look was all it took to turn my heart into a pair of hummingbird wings. I wanted to go to him. Desperately. But my feet wouldn't budge.

"Oi, mate," came a gravelly voice from the corner of the bar, but I couldn't spare him a glance. "Pretty looking bird is staring at you. Best look alive."

Draco's head snapped up so quickly, I worried he might have given himself whiplash. Those grey eyes locked on me, and the emotion residing within was enough to take my breath away. Raising one shoulder in a small shrug, I mouthed, "I'm sorry."

A beat later, Draco was pole-vaulting over the bar. I'm fairly certain my brows joined my hairline, but damn boy. As he stalked towards me, he slowly shook his head, and once he was within reach, I was in his arms.

"You have nothing to apologize for, myself on the other hand-" my blond adonis began but hushed when I placed a finger over his lips.

"Neither do you," my voice was barely above a whisper while I drowned in pools of silver with flecks of blue.

"I should have said something," Draco argued with a sorrowful expression.

'And I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," I retorted with a tiny smile.

He searched my eyes and face, I guess gauging my honesty, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hermione?" He murmured, framing my face with strong hands.

"Hmm?" I responded dazedly, luxuriating in his electric touch.

"May I kiss you now?" Draco whispered, his lips inches from mine.

Now, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure a small part of me died just to go to Heaven and thank God for making a man like Draco Malfoy - before I grabbed him by the collar of his button-down and crashed my lips against his.

I know it's cheesy.

Vomit-inducing even.

But it felt like coming home.

Feels like we're almost done, lovelies. I'm thinking maybe an epilogue left to go? I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know, please? So much love. xx - otterly