Better Ridiculous Than Boring (Drabbles)

“Please somebody avada me.” Draco groaned as he finally made his way back to their table. Theo, Pansy, and Daphne were making their way through every cocktail on the menu in order to find their favourite, and as such, were all three well on their way to being completely trashed.
“I’d usually do anything you say, my love, but I do not fancy Azkaban.” Theo slurred, smirking at him over his bright orange cocktail. Draco rolled his eyes and slumped in the seat next to Pansy. She patted him sympathetically on the thigh.
“It was only a matter of time before she found you, Dray. She’s a persistent woman.”
“She’s a deaf woman. How many times do I have to tell her no? The contract hasn’t existed for over two years.” He said, entirely exasperated.
“You don’t have to tell us that, we all remember that night.” Daphne smiled, and Theo barked out a laugh.
“Not sure how you remember it, Daph, with the amount you drank.”
She glared at him. “I had to capitalise on the opportunity. It isn’t every day we’re allowed into the Zabini wine cellar.”
As if he’d been summoned, Blaise slid into the seat beside Theo.
“If I let you animals have free reign, it would be empty within a few days, Daph. Are we talking about your freedom party? I thought that was Astoria that I saw.” He grimaced out at the dance floor, as Theo placed a finger to his lips.
“Sshhhh, do not speak her name, it gives her more power.”
“How much have you had? You’re fucked already, mate.” Blaise laughed, and Theo shook his head indignantly.
“Am not. I’ve only had two and then two more and half of this one.”
“Fucking Salazar.” Draco muttered, as Theo leaned on Daphne’s shoulder and the two giggled mischievously.
Pansy had always been able to hold her drinks better than her friends, but even she was noticeably drunk.
“Drakeyyyyyy!” Astoria called in that horrendously singsong voice of hers. The table collectively groaned, and Draco pleaded with all of them to avada him, just as he’d asked. They all betrayed him, and he shot them a collective dirty look before turning to the witch at his shoulder.
“Astoria, everything alright?” He asked, and she pouted, leaning over just enough that he was genuinely concerned she was about to flash the entire club.
“You abandoned me, baby! Come on, we’re dancing.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him from his seat with a surprising amount of force. He looked back in a desperate plea for help, but all of his traitorous friends simply toasted their drinks to him. He needed to get better friends, he made a mental note.
Astoria was wearing a very tiny white strapless dress that consisted of lots of fussy layers of tulle overlapped with each other. She always wore white when she knew she’d see him, and it made his stomach turn. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what she was trying to say. His father had arranged the marriage contract with Astoria’s father before the war, and so she had grown up expecting to one day be Draco’s wife. Once Lucius had died in Azkaban, Draco had binned off the contract as soon as he could, with his mother’s full support. As it turned out, Narcissa had always disliked Astoria, but after the war, she was no longer inclined to do anything that wouldn’t mean either her or Draco’s happiness, and so had wholeheartedly encouraged him to wait until he’d found somebody he truly loved. Astoria did not share this opinion, and no matter how many times he told her that he wasn’t interested, she continued to act as if the contract was alive and well. He had been raised to be a gentleman, and so didn’t want to be rude to the witch, but she was wilfully ignoring his rejection and he really didn’t know what he was supposed to do. At that exact moment in time, what he was doing was allowing her to dance on and around him whilst maintaining as little eye or body contact as possible. She was pretty enough, and one day, she’d find someone who would make her truly happy, but that person wasn’t him, and he thought, deep down, they both knew that. Astoria wouldn’t throw herself at him in the desperate way that she did if she thought there was any real hope for them. It made him a bit sad, if he was honest. Just as Astoria wrapped her hands around his neck, a gentle hand appeared on his shoulder.

“Hands off what doesn’t belong to you, Tori.” Hermione Granger said, her face a picture of innocence despite what she’d just said. Draco was dumbfounded. Her wild curls were tied up and away from her face, and she was wearing a long-sleeved satin shirt dress, with a tight skirt that made him stare for a little too long. What made it worse was that the thing was slytherin green, and Gods, did it suit her.
“Um? We’re dancing here.” Astoria didn’t look at Granger, but Draco was already removing her arms from his neck, absolutely not wasting the opportunity for rescue, even if his brain had abandoned him because Hermione Granger was wearing fucking green.
“Yes, I can see that. If you’d now like to leave my boyfriend alone, I’d appreciate it.” Astoria blanched, and Draco wanted to burst out laughing, but he somehow managed to school his face.
“Boyfriend? He’d never touch a mu- someone like you.” She scoffed, and Granger caught his eye, as they both had noticed what Astoria was really about to say.
“I’ve been trying to tell you, Astoria. How many more times do I need to say that I’m not interested? We aren’t right for each other, surely you know that.” He placed an arm around Granger’s waist, and was relieved when she leaned into him. It was to convince Astoria of this ruse they were now in the midst of, nothing more. He certainly wasn’t losing his mind now that he was touching her.
Astoria was looking between them, shock, anger, and sadness cycling through her face. In the end, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, and shot Granger her best cocky smile before batting her eyelashes at him. He wanted to scoff.
“Once you’re done with whatever this phase is, Drakey, you know where to find me.” She trailed her fingers down his chest, before winking and sauntering away. Granger snorted next to him, and he suddenly remembered what was happening. He dropped his arm and turned to her.
“Hello Granger. My sincere apologies for being previously unaware of our relationship, I’ll do better in future. You look nice.” She swatted his arm, and laughed at his sarcasm.
“Blaise called for the cavalry. He said Harry needed to come and get Theo because he’s ‘completely and utterly fucked’, as he so poetically put it, and he also said that darling Tori was on the prowl so I figured I’d come and save you. I’ve had this for ages, I thought the colour might be appropriate.” She smiled broadly up at him, and he momentarily lost the ability to form any sort of coherent thought because it was probably the most beautiful thing that had ever been directed at him. His ill-advised crush on Granger had slowly gotten further and further out of hand until he was utterly gone for a woman that, as far as he was aware, barely looked at him twice. It was all Theo’s fault. He’d managed to wrangle himself an Unspeakable position in the Department of Mysteries, and had orchestrated a daily bumping into the Chosen One in the canteen until he wore Potter down and finally got the bloke into his bed. With Potter came Granger, and so Draco was doomed to pine for the witch who had grown into one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. It was what he deserved, he supposed. He’d been a right prick to her for the longest time, and whilst he’d apologised thoroughly and genuinely to her for it all, he certainly did not deserve something as precious as her affection.

“Shall we go back to the others? Drunk Theo making Potter uncomfortable is always so entertaining.” He smirked, regaining his faculties somewhat.
“As much as I do enjoy Theo getting handsy, I think we should dance properly first. Darling Tori is still staring, and if looks could kill, consider me avada’d.” She smiled again, and he laughed, the entire situation feeling utterly surreal as she slung her arms around his neck, just as Astoria had done.
“I hadn’t realised you’d be quite this possessive, Granger. You must know that nobody else in here holds a candle to you.” He was gaining ground back now. His brain was back with him, and he wasn’t letting this opportunity slip away.
She scoffed, shaking her head slightly. “It’s an admirable commitment to the ruse, Malfoy, I’ll give you that.”
He furrowed his brows, and made a show of spinning them round as he appraised the room. Then he looked back at her. “Nope, I was right the first time. Will you believe me now I’ve double checked?”
She rolled her eyes, and looked over his shoulder. “Tori’s gone. Do you think Theo’s allowed Harry to keep his shirt on this time?” She smiled, and walked off suddenly, leaving him confused and alone on the dance floor. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before following her. He knew she wasn’t interested, why should she be? He was Draco Malfoy, she was Hermione Granger, the very idea was ridiculous. He arrived back at the table just as Theo was stripping Potter of his shirt, and plastered on an amused smirk, doing his very best not to feel disappointed.
“Theo, no not here, fucking Merlin’s- Right, goodnight everyone, I’m taking this one home.” Potter batted away the hands of his boyfriend, who was incredibly focused on undoing the buttons of his shirt, and steered him towards the floo.
“You’re taking me home? Whatever will your boyfriend say?” Theo slurred.
“Theo, you’re my boyfriend.” Potter replied tiredly. Draco caught himself smiling fondly after the pair, and quickly hid his face by taking a sip of the drink Blaise had gotten for him.
“Well, we just came to rescue Theo, and seeing as Tori’s gone, I guess my work here is done. It was nice seeing you all.” Granger waved, her gaze lingering on Draco before she strode over to the floo and disappeared in green flames. He sighed, and downed his whiskey, before realising that everyone at the table was staring at him.
“What?” He asked, and Pansy groaned loudly, collapsing her face into Daphne’s shoulder.
“Fucking go after her, you great, gangly twat!” Blaise exclaimed, slamming his hands down onto the table.
“Who? Granger? Why would I do that?”
Blaise placed his head in his hands, and a very drunk Daphne shuffled awkwardly past him. She cupped Draco’s face with her own hands, looking him directly in the eyes even as she swayed slightly.
“Hermy-own-ininny likes you. She turned up here to save you from Asty-orioria, wearing a sexy dress that she knew would have you gagging, and then she spent the rest of the night giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes with her hands around your neck. Listen to me, you beautiful, stupid man. You need to go after her. I cannot stand watching you pining for a second longer, not when that stunning beauty of a witch is currently thinking that you don’t like her back. You are her person, you were never going to be right for my sister.” Despite the butchered names and the constant slurring of words, he heard her message loud and clear. Before he changed his mind, he gave Daphne a short kiss on the forehead, and all but ran to the floo.

He stepped into Granger’s flat, and there was the witch herself, sitting on her sofa wearing a very Malfoy-esque smirk.
“Who had to spell it out for you? Was it Daphne? I bet it was Daphne.” She said.
He dropped his chin to his chest and looked at his feet for a moment, before looking back at her. “Yes, it was Daphne.” He acquiesced, and she laughed.
“I was starting to think I read it wrong. A man as intelligent as you couldn’t possibly be so oblivious.”
He paused for a moment, simply taking her in. “Are you always going to have the upper hand here?” He asked, and she smiled.
“Probably. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No.” It very much was not a problem, he decided.
“Good.” She said, standing up and taking his hand in hers, leading him towards her bedroom. No, very much not a problem in the slightest.