Oneshots.

not-so sibling rivalry (dramione)

When a creepy wizard at The Three Broomsticks gets a little too close to Hermione Granger, she'll do anything to get away. Anything. And if her rescuer isn't surprising enough, the charade they put on is entirely (as he would put it) ridikulous.

And why not add in a little healthy competition? What could possibly go wrong?

+ + + + +

The Three Broomsticks was unusually quiet today, and Hermione was alone. Ronald and Harry were at the Weasely's for the holidays, and Hermione's parents had gone on a vacation by themselves. She had opted to stay at the school, along with a handful of her classmates.

Hermione didn't mind the cold when she walked through Hogsmeade, but the snow had began to freeze her toes, and she decided to enjoy a glass of Butterbeer in the small pub instead of trying to recall the particular spell to warm her up.

She sipped the beverage, then wiped the leftover foam from her upper lip. Not a sound was to be heard in the whole place, it was empty other than the man behind the bar. It was quite eery to be alone at a table, but it was even more creepy that no one came in but her. Hermione got the bad sort of feeling that something would happen.

The bartender headed into the stockroom, right as the bell over the door began to jingle.

Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away, as an older wizard stumbled through the doorway. His eyes were glazed over, sweat dripped down his forehead. He couldn't walk into a straight line to save his life, and she could've smelled the Firewhisky on him from miles away.

He shoots a wink her way, and Hermione cringes. She couldn't help but pray the bartender to return soon. Surely the old man would be kicked out. His behavior was completely repulsive, and if it already wasn't awful enough, he began to stumble on his way towards her.

"I'll buy you a drink, lovvvve." He slurs, trying to grab her hand. Hermione makes a face. "Piss off." She snaps. "Touch me again and I'll hex your ruddy arm off."

The man chuckles darkly, sending chills down Hermione's spine. "I don't believe it." Honestly, Hermione was surprised he could even form sentences he was so drunk. "I said, piss off." Hermione barked back. She wouldn't hex him, but she wanted to get out of there.

She stands up to leave, but the man grabs her shoulder. "Not so fast. Have a drink."

"Get off me!"

He doesn't release his grip. He's stronger than she is. Hermione's face heats up. She's never been this scared before. Not since the Basilisk. And even then she'd held onto her wits. Now she's almost paralyzed with fear and anger, and HE WON'T LET GO.

"Let go!" Hermione pulls harder and harder, squirming underneath his sweaty hands.

"Oi! You heard her!"

She's completely relieved at first. That is, until she sees tufts of blonde-white hair that would normally be sleeked back within an inch of its life. Something makes her hold back from barking at Malfoy too. She needs all the help she can get.

Hermione is desperate to get away from this guy. Besides, she wouldn't feel that bad about hexing Malfoy later. "Lay off 'er!"

"I don't think it's any of your business, Mister Malfoy." The cruel man sneers. She's surprised that he knows Draco's name, but then again, the Malfoys are pretty famous. "It's is most certainly my business. That's my sister, you freak."

"Sister?" The man questions.

Hermione's eyes grow the size of saucers.  Sister?! What the hell does he think he's doing? But something worked, because the man lets go of Hermione, shoving her towards Draco. But she won't stand for anyone to believe such lies, especially from Draco bloody Malfoy, who had spit the word "mudblood" in her face not two days ago. "We are NOT -"