Chapter 1
“Malfoy?” Hermione asked confused as she opened the door of her apartment. “What are you doing here? It’s 3 in the morning”.
“Granger…” Draco mubled.
He was leaning on the wall, all soaking wet from the summer storm outside, looking at Hermione with the smirk on his face. The first buttons of his black shirt was unbuttoned and his silver, always perfect looking hair now was falling on Malfoy’s eyes. He steped through the door before Hermione could say anything more. She started to walk backwards trying to avoid Draco and as soon as Hermione started to think more straight after she got woken up in the middle of the night, she felt how her back bumped into the bookshelf of her tiny living room.
“You’re drunk, Malfoy” she said coldly, looking straight to her intruder. “Please step back, before I hex you”.
“Granger, Granger… You’re getting on my nerves nowadays, you know?” Draco mumbled again as he rested his both hands above Hermione’s head and closed his eyes.
The wave of Firewiskey’s scent, mixed with Draco Malfoy’s expensive perfume reached her nose and she frowned. Hermione was both angry as hell but also confused about his motives to break into her apartment, absolutely drunk and looking like a mess. She never saw him like this before. Draco opened his eyes and looked into Hermione. His grey eyes was dark, hungry. Before she could say anything back at him he leaned so close to her face that their noses were practically touching. Hermione hold her breath and could’t even move.
“Do you remember my trial, Granger? How everyone in the court was wispering around what should be done with me? How I should die?” Draco asked, sounding surprisengely clear, almost sober. “Well, I already picked my fatal poison, Granger…and it’s You” he wispered so close to Hermione’s lips, that she felt shivers went down her spine.
Drunk Slytherin leaned back from her and without any more words went straight to Hermione’s cosy brown sofa, and to her surprise immediately fell asleep, leaving Hermione speachless, standing in the middle of her own apartment, with her nightwear shorts and old oversized muggle t-shirt, with her hair like a Lion’s and a man on her sofa. Man, who she never thought could even be on her sofa.
“What a hell just happened?” She wispered to herself as she shook her head, thinking that she’s dreaming.
Hermione turned around to her bedroom and started to set wards to her door with her wand just in case, even though she wished that all of this was just a strange, very strange dream caused by her overwork in The Ministry of Magic.
“You’re just haliucinating” she told to herself while she looked at the sleeping Draco Malfoy on her couch for the last time before closing doors to her room.