Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/U.

SOBER HEARTS

Like all parties, this one involved everything an individual needed to let loose: Drugs, sex, and alcohol. Otherwise known as the inseperable three. And like all parties, this one was brimming with guys looking for a good lay and girls searching for a gentleman that was hopefully hiding somewhere inside an asshole trying to get into their pants.

Quite pathetic, really.

"Remind me why I'm here again?" He asked in a bored voice. They were standing near the stairway of the cramped foyer. It seemed like Daphne Greengrass had invited more than a hundred guests. It was her yearly summer tradition, holding a party at their guest house in the back of their manor. Precisely how she expected everyone to fit inside was perhaps too difficult of a question for her impossibly small brain.

"Because you love parties."

"No, I don't."

"Because you want to get laid."

"With one of these hookers? Are you mad, Blaise? I could catch something."

"You're the one who's mad, Draco. That one was certainly not a hooker. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, that one looked like Millicent Bulstrode."

Draco gagged. "I'm going to get something to drink."

"You're going to thank me for dragging you here! I promise you that!" Blaise called after him.

He rolled his eyes at his best friend's dramatics and pushed his way through the crowd, blatantly ignoring the multitude of flirtatious hellos he received along the way. He recognized a few people from Hogwarts, but none of them were really his friends. Not that had he had much friends to begin with.

After what seemed like eternity, he reached the kitchen. This too, was packed. For the second time that night, he found himself wondering why in the bloody hell he had allowed himself to be persuaded by Blaise 'The Manwhore' Zabini.

"Can't a guy get a decent drink around here?" He muttered under his breath. He was ready to make an about-face when something caught his eye: an unruly mess of curly brown hair. He squinted. If said girl was not drinking one tequila shot after another, Draco could have sworn that it was the queen of all bookworms herself, Hermione Granger.

She threw back her head and laughed. Some guy whispered something in her ear. She grinned widely before clambering onto one of the kitchen counters. And then - she started to dance.

There was no way on earth that, that heavenly creature was Hermione Granger.

For one thing, she had legs that seemed to go on for ages. He never noticed that back in Hogwarts. Another thing, her teeth were perfect rows of gleaming white. Didn't she resemble a beaver before? And he knew for certain that the Hermione Granger he had gone to school with was far too much of a prude to be doing that.

She was swaying her hips in time with the music, eyes half-closed, and arms flailed high in the air. Granted, her jeans fit a little snugly around the behind but compared to the other girls who wear wearing dresses that barely covered their thighs, she was definitely a little on the conservative side.

Every now and then a shot glass was offered to her. She took each and every one without hesitation, downing them in one smooth gulp. Catcalls echoed from her distinctively male audience. They urged her to continue her show.

"Dude, I told you this is the fastest way to nail her. She is a lousy drunk." Someone behind him remarked with a laugh.

"Who knew Granger had a wild side, eh?" His companion answered back, laughing loudly. "I cannot wait to see how she is in bed."

"Have you called the boys yet? This will be one interesting ride. Get it? RIDE?" They dissolved into another fit of laughter.

Draco stiffened as a sense of uneasiness wafted through him. That was when the inward battle began.

Are you insane? She's Hermione Bloody Granger. She transformed you into a ferret and punched you in the face.

But she's about to be - raped.

How sure are you that it won't be consensual?

Because she's Hermione Bloody Granger, that's why.

Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT ALL.

Once again, Draco found himself pushing through the throng of people until he reached the counter. "Granger!" He yelled over the music. Hermione kept on dancing. There was a silly smile on her face. Draco wondered what her reaction would be to his sudden presence. "GRANGER!" He shouted again.

This time, she heard him. "Oh. My. God. Is that Draco Malfoy?"

He nodded curtly, vaguely aware that he was being watched by the two guys that he had overheard conversing a while ago.

"I was wondering if we could talk."

She burst out laughing. Draco noticed she was holding a bottle of Odgen's Old Firewhisky. Apparently, the tequila was no longer enough.

"Oh fuck off Malfoy, I don't have time for your games."

"You hear that mate? She said fuck off." It was one of the guys. A brawny one with close cropped hair. His companion was of equally the same stature. Draco did not recognize them. They leered at Hermione. "Hey baby, why don't we talk for a while?"

For a second, Draco was almost convinced that she had turned into that sort of woman. But she took one good look at them and snorted. "In your dreams, fellasss." She slurred. "I'm drunk and you're still ugly." She pointed at Draco. "At least he's pretty."

They scowled. One slapped her buttcheek. Draco waited before intervening. Hermione squealed and teetered off the counter. Draco caught her just in time. He jabbed one of the guys with his elbow and kneed the other one in the groin. He then carried Hermione out into the back porch.

He settled her onto a wooden bench. There were only a few people outside. Mostly couples trying to get a good snog. No one paid them any attention.

Hermione pushed him away half-heartedly. "Gerroff me!"

He raised his hands in surrender. She struggled to sit up straight. He made no move to help her. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he stood in front of her with an amused grin. "Don't I get a thank you for saving your ass, Granger?"

She peered at him. "I was handling it."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Uh-hm."

"That was quite a show you put on back there. I never pegged you as the type."

She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "What type?"

He smirked. "The prude who turns into a little wild thing after a few sips of alcohol."

She poked him in the chest. "Those were no sipsssss Malfoy." She slurred. "Those were tequila shots. Te-qui-laaahhh."

"And some good ol' Firewhisky, eh?"

She nodded with a lopsided grin before nearly falling off of the bench. He caught her by the arms. Draco took a seat beside her just in case she decided to get chummy with the lawn again. To his extreme astonishment, she settled her head onto his shoulder.

He stiffened.

She's severely intoxicated, Draco. The voice in his head reminded him. She probably won't even remember a single thing by tomorrow morning. He allowed himself to relax.

"Why are you so nice to me?" She mumbled softly.

He pretended to be offended. "I am nice. When I am not nice?"

That, apparently, turned out to be the wrong thing to ask.

"You're not calling me Mudblood anymore."

She said this without a hint of anger. It was simply something that her drunken mind was stating. As a fact. A mere fact that sent a rather sharp twinge in his chest.

And they say that a Malfoy had no conscience.

"I've changed." He replied softly.

She yawned. "That's good. I like this Malfoy better." Her eyes began to flutter closed.

For reasons unknown, that simple statement made him feel warm all over. He then caught himself smiling at her half-asleep form.

"Granger?" He asked uncertainly.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything."

"S'okay."

She then vomitted all over his shoes.

Fortune smiled upon Draco when he discovered that Hermione only lived a few blocks away from the Greengrass manor. With one arm slung around her shoulder for support and with hers around his waist, the two stumbled out of the house and continued on down the empty sidewalk. Hermione could barely walk straight and Draco resisted the urge to just magically lift her home. She had specifically requested that he not do that as the neighbors might see.

After what seemed like forever, they reached her doorstep.

Draco could not even begin to contemplate his actions that night. It simply felt - right.

He watched as she struggled with her keys. She heaved a sigh of frustration.

He smirked. "Need help, oh damsel in distress?"

She flung the keys at him. He chuckled. "No need to be angry, Granger. It's okay to ask for help once in a while." She leaned against the door as he inserted the right key into the doorknob. She looked like she was going to pass out any minute now.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I'd better get going. Blaise will be wondering where I disappeared to."

She merely stared at him. Her eyes were all glassy from too much alcohol.

"Alright then." He made to turn around when he felt a hand grab his arm.

"Wait, Malfoy. I - I was wondr'ng if you could help me with - with something." She pulled him into her flat. Draco followed soundlessly. She collapsed on the sofa and pointed to the kitchen. "Potion. There. Cupboard." Her head lolled onto a green throw pillow.

He shrugged and went through the cupboards. He found one marked Hangover Potion. He could not resist a laugh. He walked over to the couch. She absently patted the empty space beside her. "Givett."

He gave it to her. She swallowed it in one gulp and coughed. Automatically, he went to rub her back. She graced him with a dazed smile. Her cheeks had turned a rosy pink from all the drinking and her lips were a glistening red.

"Draco?"

Did she just...?

She was leaning towards him.

Draco blinked.

Was she...?

Her eyes slipped closed and before he knew what was happening, she was kissing him.

The mere act sent shockwaves through his entire being.

And when he began kissing her back - all he could see was stars.

"I have a feeling you'll regret this in the morning, Granger." He murmured in between.

He felt her grin and shake her head. "Nuh-uh. You saved me..."

"...and besides, I know there's more to Draco Malfoy than his sordid past."

He knew that she was completely wasted but there was a small part of him that severely wished that she meant what she said.

After the event, Draco had headed back to the Greengrass manor to look for Blaise. Draco had found him in a rather - uncompromising position. He arrived home at almost 4:30 in the morning. He took a strong sleeping potion (knowing full well that he would need it) and had woken up at mid-afternoon the next day.

He had taken a bath. Went pacing around his flat for a good two hours. Seriously considered knocking on Granger's door and then deciding against it - if she remembered anything from the night before, she would contact him - or she would go into a fit of rage, thinking Draco had taken advantage of her and set his house on fire.

He finally decided to go see Blaise who lived right next door.

"Well, look who the cat dragged in." Blaise said with some surprise ushering him into the living room. "Had a good night?"

"If you mean walking into you and Bulstrode shagging, then no. It was most definitely a horrid night."

Blaise winced. "That wasn't really her, was it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'd recognize that non-existent nose anywhere."

Blaise groaned. "I was so bloody wasted. Damn it all. Now I'll have to burn those silk boxers." He sighed with despair.

"Oh shut it."

"Well, aren't we in a sour mood? Where did you disappear off to last night anyway?"

With great reluctance, Draco retold his rather 'interesting' encounter with Hermione Granger.

Blaise was nodding when he was done. There was a wide grin on his face. "My dear friend, I must say, you are most certainly whipped."

"You kill me with your humor, Blaise." Draco said dryly. Although, it was bordering dangerously onto the truth.

"You should send flowers."

"No."

"A letter, then?"

"No."

"Aha! A singing gnome."

Draco stared at him.

"If she wants to see me. She'll come see me."

"Doubtful."

"Very encouraging, Blaise."

"You know how girls are, Draco. They like being chased -" The doorbell rang, cutting him off. Blaise clapped his hands. "Ah. Those must be the new boxers I orded. Be right back."

Draco stared at the fireplace broodingly. How did he let one night with one girl (whom he did not even sleep with) affect him so much?

You know why.

It's because she can see right through you - even when she's drunk.

The door to the living room creaked open. Apparently Blaise had returned. He cleared his throat.

"No Blaise. I do not want to see you in your silk boxers." Draco announced without bothering to turn around.

"I never thought you and Zabini had that kind of relationship."

Draco froze. He turned slowly to see a smirking Hermione Granger standing in the doorway looking a whole lot better than she did the night before. "Granger? What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Zabini's silk boxers," She responded sarcastically.

Draco ignored her comment. "I take it you remember everything then."

He had no idea why his heart was beating like a hummingbird trying to escape from its cage.

Hermione bit her lip. "To be honest. No."

Draco said nothing. He merely waited.

"But there were - bits and pieces." She stared him straight in the eye, hesitated, and then said: "Would you like to have coffee with me, Malfoy?"

For the first time that day, he smiled. "Only if you agree to have dinner with me afterwards."

Her brown eyes twinkled. "It's a date, then."

So Blaise ended up being right. Draco did have him to thank for dragging him to that lame excuse for a party.

-Fin-

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)