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The room was dark, the bed uncomfortable, and there was something heavily draped across her waist. Never before had she drunk so much during their nights out, and she now understood why. The nausea and headache she could handle. It was the forgotten bits of the night that bothered her. And worse, she had no idea where she was or who lay beside her.

Dread and fear did nothing to calm her roiling stomach, but she had to know what happened. Slowly, her heart pounding, she rolled over to face the mystery being snoring softly beside her. Her eyes had adjusted just enough to make out pale blonde hair. "Oh God, please be Draco," she said to herself. Though they were hardly friends, he was a step up from a random stranger. She shook his shoulders, hoping it would rouse him. She whispered his name, becoming louder and louder, and still he did not wake. Finally fed up with being the only conscious party, she slapped him. 

"Ow, what the hell?" he asked, before groaning and burying his head beneath a pillow.  

"Get up, Malfoy," she insisted. "Now. We did something last night, or didn't do something, I don't know.  And I want answers. And hangover potion. And pancakes."

He sat up and turned on the lights as he rubbed his stinging cheek. "Where are my pants?" he wondered. 

Hermione held the blankets tightly over his bare chest. "What an excellent question," she muttered. "Did we... do you think we... we didn't--" 

"Do it?" he finished for her. She blushed and nodded. "Given our current state of undress, I'd say we did." 

Hermione felt her stomach roll, and dashed to the bathroom. Draco winced as he gathered his clothes and dressed as she expelled the previous night's libations. When he finished his task, he picked up her dress and knocked on the bathroom door. "Hermione, I have your clothes," he told her, knocking again as the bathroom began to run.

She wrenched open the bathroom door and glared at him. "It's Granger to you,'' she stated, grabbing her dress from his hands. With the door closed once again, he took to straightening up the room. She still had the bedsheet with her, but he arranged the comforter and pillows on the bed.

It was then that he spotted it.

A signed document; her signature, his signature, and a minister of the peace. "Actually, I think it's Malfoy," he called to her. 

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