Fore Play (Dramione)

Chapter 7

Draco's head was thumping. He tentatively moved it and winced as a wave of nausea swept over him. Fuck me, he thought helplessly. It had been a long time since he'd woken up feeling this rough. His eyes stung as sunlight poured into the bedroom through the open French doors that led out onto a large balcony. Draco felt his insides freeze - he didn't have a balcony in his hotel bedroom. He glanced around the unfamiliar room with growing horror. This was not his bedroom. Looking down at himself he gave an inward sigh of relief - at least he was fully dressed.

"So you've decided to rejoin us in the land of the living?" came a familiar voice. Draco squinted against the sunlight and saw Hermione sitting cross-legged on the balcony lounger clutching an oversized cup in her hands. She was wearing a large, fluffy white bathrobe and an amused expression.

"Did I win?" he croaked. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper.

"Nope," she replied lightly. "You lost. Rather spectacularly, too. That said, Big Tam was surprised you were able to hold on for as long as you did."

"Big Tam?" asked Draco uncertainly.

"The large, tattooed, red-headed gentlemen you made friends with last night," she reminded him. "After you came to, you both decided to put aside your differences and became the best of friends."

"Whaaa..?" Draco lifted his head and grimaced at the throbbing pain shooting through his skull. Sinking his head back into the warm pillow, he tried to piece together the events of the night before. Everything was pretty clear up until the fourth or fifth shot of whiskey. Then things started to become...blurry. Fragmented memories flew through his mind - he remembered laughing and joking with a red-haired man. There had been even more drinking. And, Merlin...

"Was I singing last night?" he asked cautiously.

"With Big Tam," Hermione confirmed sounding increasingly amused. "You both gave a beautiful rendition of 'Like A Virgin'. I didn't know you had such a beautiful singing voice, Draco."

Draco groaned and felt a fresh wave of horror and embarrassment wash over him on top of the nausea. Other memories came flooding back - he and Hermione staggering up the country road towards the hotel. Being sick in a bush while she patted him gingerly on the back assuring him he'd be alright. Dancing with Hermione, in the pub and up the darkened country lane, singing at the top of their lungs. "Fuck," he muttered, covering his eyes as though it would help block out the images racing through his mind.

Draco felt the bed sink to his left and he peered through his fingers to see Hermione looking down at him with a surprisingly fond expression. Even though his head was pounding, it didn't dissuade a familiar stirring in his trousers. It couldn't be helped, he reasoned. Even if he did feel like shit, it wasn't every day he woke up to find a beautiful woman sitting in bed with him.

"Here," she said gently, passing him a cup of steaming hot tea. He sat up gingerly and took it from her hands. As their fingers brushed against one another, Draco felt an altogether more pleasant feeling rush through him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Mortified," he replied shortly, taking a sip from his cup. Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, we were both in a bit of a mess last night. I guess you don't remember much after we reached the pub?"

"I'm afraid not," he admitted sheepishly. "What do I need to apologise for?"

"Mainly for engaging in a pointless dick-swinging contest with the local hardman, but other than that you were fine. I actually had a really good time last night."

"Yeah, me too. I think," he frowned. "So after the pub, we..."

"You lost your room key and your jacket at some point during the night, Merlin only knows where. You were more than happy to kip out in the corridor, but I took sympathy on you and invited you to spend the night here," she explained lightly. "You were excellent company for the whole five minutes you managed to stay awake. I must say, you're quite chatty when you're drunk."