Operation Damage Control
“What?” The three Slytherins asked in unison.
“Did I stutter?” Hermione said as she pulled Draco off the bed with her. “You two- grab your phones. Draco, conjure some glasses.”
“Lumos!” Hermione muttered a the sconces around the room and side tables burst into flame and settling into a soft, warm glow.
She walked around the dormitory, absentmindedly tapping her finger against her chin.
A wave of her wand and she conjured a round table to the center of the room with a record player sitting on top, next to a stack of vinyl records. Another flick of her wrist and the deep red and gold banners of Gryffindor hung, connecting the beds together. Another wave, and glowing green and silver globes floated just above their heads.
“What the Hell do you-“ Blaise began with a chuckle.
“I’m not saying anything until you get that fire whiskey Mr. Zabini.”
Properly chagrined, the three men cast a reveal charm and bring four bottles to the table. Hermione selects a record, and big band jazz music starts to play.
“Theo, pour four shots please. Generous ones.” Hermione said. The four students pick up and raise their glasses in the air as the three wizards sport identical masks of confusion.
“Well,” Theo starts. I’m not one to say no to a good time!” Smiling, he says, “bottoms up, Granger.”
Placing her glass down on the table, she turns to Draco. “Now. Give me your tie. Theo, another round please. Blaise, I know you have wine. Bring it out with four goblets please.”
“Ooh,” Theo says, “I don´t know what´s going on, but I know I am going to thoroughly enjoy this evening.”
“Bossy little swot,” Blaise mumbles.
“What do you mean, give you my tie, Granger?”
With a huff, Hermione takes a step towards Draco. “Accio Slytherin ties.” Once she has them in hand, she doles them out to the wizards, instructing them to put them on. “Loosely is fine. We aren’t going to class.”
She undoes the top two buttons of her shirt and flicks her wand. Her House ties morphs into the green and silver of Slytherin House. Three more turns of her wand, and the remaining ties turn into the colors of Gryffindor.
“What…what are you doing?” Draco asks, bewildered and at the verge of being unable to form a proper sentence.
Hermione takes his hands and begins spinning them in a circle. “Why, Mr. Malfoy, isn’t it obvious? We are having a party, which will be thoroughly documented.” She grabs him by the tie and pulls him close to her face. She takes a selfie, her lips pursed and Draco’s brows drawn in confusion.
A few taps on her phone later, she looks up to find the three young men staring at her, mouths agape.
“Now. Gather ‘round boys and bring the firewhiskey. We need to take some photos.