The Rule Book

Chapter 3: Nightlife

Rule Number 34:

Never chase after the girl. Make them long for you.

Draco scoffed. Damn this rule to bits. He needed so much from that infuriating woman and he was sure he needed it now. Draco covered his mouth with his hands as he sneezed.

Ah, shit.

"Draco, man, you're not feeling better. That's the second spell I placed on you and you're still shivering," complained Blaise, who has been with him the entire day. "Hell, I even apparated you to your house. Are you sure you don't want to visit St. Mungos?"

"No…" Draco groaned, clutching his aching head. "No…"

Sighing, Blaise took a bag of chips off the counter and joined Draco on the sofa. Blaise couldn't believe what Draco had gone through the whole day. From laboured breathing, to headaches, to stomach pains, to vomiting, to the shivering, to the coughing and sneezing and even to a high fever.

Something was obviously wrong.

Realizing that he was sitting beside the sneezing Draco, Blaise scurried away to a comfy armchair.

"Jeez, Draco, are you sure this isn't contagious? I don't want your germs," he teased playfully, throwing a handful of chips at Draco, hoping it would ease his bad mood.

It only seemed to make Draco feel worse. "Stop it, Zabini. I'm sick and I haven't even had a good performance from Paxton. Leave me alone."

Blaise looked shocked. "Paxton came to your office?"

"Yes," Draco coughed, burrowing his head on his lap, trying to calm down his nerves and his raging headache. "She didn't get to finish."

"You promised not to do any of those at work, you ass."

"Certainly," said Draco, trying to roll his eyes, but even his eyes hurt. "Can you get my water over there?"

Blaise relaxed and pressed his back against the chair, kicking his feet up. "Get it yourself."

"But I'm sick!"

"Fine," sighed Blaise, reaching for the glass of water that Draco had brought from the kitchen. He gingerly passed it to Draco who just scowled at his reaction. "You're such a pansy," he told Blaise. Blaise gave a mock gasp and placed a hand over his chest. "Says the sick man who doesn't know how to get his own things!"

Draco gave another effort into rolling his eyes. "Shut your trap, Blaise."

Blaise snickered and settled in for a few more chips. "You okay?"

"What does it look like?"

"Jeez, someone has his period today."

"Shut up, Blaise. Just… shut up."

Draco massaged his temples again, slowly and surely. Blaise was driving him to the edge, and he had no energy to kick that arse out of his house. He had to endure Blaise's constant jabbing and yapping and it was the worst side of Blaise that he had ever seen. Draco groaned to himself. He was putting up with all of this just because his stupid ancestors had to be stupid freaking Veelas. Now he knew, though, where all his good looks came from.

Lucius.

That son of a…

"Draco! Hey- are you listening to me?!"

"Blaise…" he groaned. "Please. What do you want now?"

"Do you mind if I read that newspaper over there?"

"No."

"Thanks!"

Sneezing, Draco rolled to his side. How he wished he can take back what he said. He wished it never happened at all. He wanted it to be some kind of sick dream. Remembering the way his mother had looked at him. He was so disappointed in himself. There was no other way to describe it. He was a disappointment. Oh Salazar, he felt a lot like his father. Draco remembered the sad way his mother had walked out of his office; it felt so slow and utterly painful. She didn't even speak to him on her way out. Draco felt guilty. He felt so, so, guilty.

"Draco? It's Pansy," said Blaise, "She wants to know why Narcissa looked awful this morning."

Blaise hands Draco a contraption. Draco grimaces at the sight of it.

"What do you call that again? A pone? I'm pretty sure it's something with the word 'cell' though," said Draco, trying to remember what Pansy had said it was.

Blaise narrowed his eyes, trying to think. "I'm pretty sure Pans said it was called a cell phone."

"Whatever, it was close enough," Draco answered haughtily, rolling his eyes and taking the phone out of Blaise's hands. Two months ago Pansy thought it would be neat to forget about the war and headed out to explore the Muggle world. She had forced Draco and Blaise to get one, and when they refused, she bought for them herself. They had all found it confusing, but Pansy was so determined that she later got the hang of it.

Draco and Blaise however, is a different story.

Clicking the phone open, Draco pressed it unsurely against his ear and tried it out.

"Pansy, to what do I owe thy pleasure?" he sniffed, smiling. He was sure Pansy would turn ballistic. Once Pansy, always Pansy.

"Good Gracious, Drakey, why the hell is your mum out on the porch, looking through all her old wedding photos with Lucius?!" she screamed into the phone, and Draco jerked it away quickly.

Pausing to press the thing against his ear, Draco answered. "Pans, you have to calm down."

"Calm down? I'll calm the fuck down once you tell me why she's doing all this! You know Narcissa's been through hard times. Look, Draco, I'm not 15 anymore, I don't worship you or all that you touch because I've slowly learned not to, and even though we're friends, I can't just let this one pass."

"But-"

"No 'buts', Draco. Deal with this right now, or I swear I'll call Ginny Weasley to come over to your place and cast the Bat Bogey Hex on you. You know she's the best at those," Pansy threatened. "And once again, try to sweet-talk your way out of this but it won't work because I don't praise everything you do. I'm not just gonna get on my hands and knees to give you a blowjob. No."

Blaise, who's been listening to the whole conversation, jumped away further from Draco.

"Shit, Pansy did that to you?!"

"I CAN HEAR YOU BLAISE AND NO, IT'S NEVER GONNA HAPPEN!" Pansy yelled out, and even Blaise could hear what she said. Oh dear…

Draco shivered. Pansy could be so terrifying. And with Ginny by her side, Draco surely won't last.

"I'm-" Draco tried to reply, but was cut off when a harsh wave of coughs came out of his mouth that he was sure he sounded as if he was wheezing.

Draco groaned as he knew what was going to happen next.

"Draco, was that a cough I hear?" asked Pansy, her voice very curious. "Are you sick?"

Draco immediately shook his head, even if he knew Pansy couldn't see it. "No," he denied. If he said yes, he wouldn't be able to survive Pansy's ways of handling a fever. He might as well dig his own grave and lie in there.

"No? I'm sure that was a cough, Drakey. I'm not stupid," she retorted.

"I didn't say you were," muttered Draco, toying around with the edge of his chair. He took a stray potato chip from it and placed it inside his mouth.

"Just stop, Draco. I'll be around in about 10 minutes."

Then the line was cut and a few beeps can be heard from the other side of the phone. Draco huffed and threw the phone on the floor. Blaise looked at Draco with a sympathetic smile on his face.

"That went well," said Blaise, trying to lighten up the mood.

For the twenty-seventh time that day, Draco sneezed and replied.

"Shut up, Blaise. Just shut up."

…

"What?! Hermione, you know you can't miss the Night Out with Harry and Ron!" Ginny Weasley wailed, her purse finding its way to the ground. "You're always part of that!"

Hermione sunk deeper into her couch. God, that felt so good…

"I don't feel like it, Gin. Rough day at work," she replied, keeping her voice monotone and unfeeling.

Ginny looked ballistic. She was wearing a beautiful white party dress, just a little higher up her knees. She paired it with some comfortable beige heels and a matching purse- the one that her boyfriend, Harry Potter, gave her for her birthday. She accessorized with pearls. She knew how Harry loved her pearl necklace.

"I picked out your dress! You promised you'd go this week, you know you did. You can't fucking back out. You need this, Hermione, and you need to live more and have fun and flirt more and get wasted, I don't care! I'm worried about you, Hermione, and you need this desperately. Please, change your mind." Ginny begged, running out of breath from her very explosive rant.

Hermione blinked her eyes. This scene was almost amusing. But Ginny was right.

Hermione had been living under a rock for the past few weeks and even her co-workers said something about her being such a killjoy.

A killjoy. Hermione the killjoy. She felt like stabbing herself in the eye because this just reminded her of her first few years at Hogwarts when she was hardly liked, even by Harry and Ron. It was disheartening to say the least and she didn't like reliving the past.

"Fine," she huffed, raising an eyebrow, "But if you put something in my drink tonight, I'm hexing you to oblivion."

Ginny gave a fake gasp. "You don't mean that!"

"You know I do." Hermione sighed, smiling slightly. "Now show me this dress you have picked out for me."

Ginny let out a soft squeal, dragging Hermione's tired body up the stairs.

"You're gonna love what I picked out for you! I laid it down on your bed, you know," Ginny rambled. "I know how you get frustrated whenever you pick your clothes, and I thought 'Hey, maybe I should pick out her dresses', and then I found the dress at the back of your closet."

"I don't remember any dress at the back of my closet," frowned Hermione, trying to think. The only clothes she remembers putting back there were her unused lingerie and a rather revealing green nightgown given to her by a teasing co-worker.

Ginny shrugged. "Whatever, it was a good find anyways."

When they reached Hermione's room, Hermione immediately plopped down on the bed, completely exhausted. 'Rough day' seemed like a total understatement.

I mean, who wouldn't want to know that your arch-nemesis since the first year of Hogwarts is actually your mate?

Not even Hermione wanted to know.

She was sickened to say the least. Draco Malfoy wasn't much of a gentleman, and certainly isn't much of her perfect Mr Darcy. Hermione could say that she's read too much romance novels such as Pride and Prejudice and one of her huge dreams was to meet that perfect man. Her own Mr Darcy was waiting out there, looking for his Elizabeth, and right now Hermione was sure that Mr Darcy wasn't a Malfoy.

No. She will not allow her Mr Darcy to be a ferret.

Letting out a small squeak, Hermione was surprised when she felt a smooth fabric crumple against her back. She got out of the bed and looked at what had surprised her.

It was the bloody dress.

"Ugh," Hermione scowled. "Ginny I swear I'm one step to cursing you and I've got my wand at my jeans pocket."

Ginny just smiled. "Oh, please do act like a normal woman and thank me for finding this dress."

"Never in a million years," Hermione retorted.

It was her old party dress, the one where she lost her virginity in.

It was during the aftermath of the war and there was celebration everywhere and she got too caught up with all the vodka and firewhisky. She was scandalized and horrified when she woke up without her clothes and a man sleeping beside her. She was proud to say that they used protection, though, but it still wasn't great losing it in a one night stand.

Hermione massaged her temples. "Oh God, this brings back memories."

The dress wasn't that bad. It was actually a pretty little thing. Little being the keyword.

It was up to her knees the last time she wore it. She was sure that it would be probably above it since she's grown a bit over the years. The dress was white in colour with black diamonds around the chest area. It was flowing and pretty and angelic and she was sure that this dress would be the death of her tonight.

"Perfect isn't it?" asked Ginny, grinning at the dress.

"Yeah sure, it's so perfect that I'd probably wake up naked the next morning," Hermione sarcastically replied.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll let you borrow those heels you wanted from me."

"That makes having another mistaken night of intercourse sound way better, thanks Gin."

"Oh, hush now Hermione. I know darn well that you feel like a caged up lion around your job," countered Ginny, sitting at the edge of Hermione's bed.

"But, Ginny," whined Hermione, "This dress took away my virginity!" she tried to reason, but even she had to admit that it was a stupid comeback.

Ginny held the dress in her hands.

"Fine, I'll come back with a trash bag and I'll call Malfoy to come here," said Ginny.

"Fine. Go do that- wait, what?!" Hermione shrieked, bringing Ginny to a halt. "Why are you calling that arrogant prick over?"

"Look, 'Mione, I'm not stupid. I know that your foul mood is because of your meeting with Malfoy this morning," said Ginny, rolling her eyes. "Just tell me what's wrong."

Scowling, Hermione looked down at her arm. "Nothing's wrong."

Ginny sighed and pushed the dress into Hermione's arms. "Fine. Don't tell me what's wrong but wear the dress. Please," she added, for good measure.

Slumping, Hermione stood up and took the dress from Ginny's hands. She smoothed it out, watching it closely.

"We meet again," whispered Hermione, ready for a disastrous night.

…

Uncomfortably walking in heels, Hermione stepped in the jam-packed club, looking very much annoyed.

"I liked it better when we went to a coffee shop the last night-out," muttered Hermione, trying to push down her dress.

It looked even smaller on her than before and it was making her feel so uncomfortable. It was so cold and she was sure she was close to freezing. Hermione was wearing heels too- Ginny's pair- and its heels were so high, she was sure she looked at least a million inches taller. Her hair was done in a simple side braid (that was the only thing Ginny approved from her) and her makeup looked clean and natural.

Besides, she wasn't here to leave clinging on to a stranger's arm.

"What?!" Ginny shouted, trying to understand what Hermione was saying. "The music's too loud!"

"I know!" Hermione shouted back. "Now let's go find the boys and go to a coffee shop!"

Hermione prayed that they will. Besides, she packed some extra clothes, just in case they had a change of plans for the night.

"Oh good Merlin, I hope they're waiting at the bar," said Hermione, scrunching up her nose in disgust. People were dancing to the music, swaying their hips against one another's. It was hot and she started to sweat, desperately pushing through the dancing crowd, using her hips and elbows.

"Ginny!" she cried out, hoping she didn't lose her in the crowd.

Massaging her head, she closed her eyes to block out the loud sounds around her and the throbbing beat of the music.

"Kill me now," she muttered to herself.

Trying once again to push herself to freedom, Hermione used her elbows to get through the crowd.

"HEY, WATCH OUT!"

Hermione cautiously spun around just in time to be knocked over by a man in a black suit.

"Fuck," she heard the man mutter under his breath, getting up. "I told you to move didn't I?"

Slowly, Hermione followed the man's actions, fixing her hair.

There's only one guy who has hair like that…

"Granger don't you ever listen to what people yell at you. Merlin, I had to elbow tons of people just to try and get you out of here you know?"

Fuck.

…

Well that's it! :)

Oh and does anyone here watch Skins? If you do, give me a lovely review will you, and add who your favourite Skins character is. Oh, and the UK version is the only one I've seen.

I hope you like this chapter and no flames! :)

ErisedMirrors