The Best Thing I Never Had

The Staged (?) First Kiss

"Not again," Hermione said to herself when she woke up. Once again, she was in Draco's apartment. She remembered some of the things that had happened the night before, but most were just blurs. It hurt her head to think about them. She remembered getting drunk with Draco, when she promised to just get tipsy. She remembered him literally picking her up from the pub. She remembered the Quidditch game. Most of all, she remembered Ron snogging Pansy Parkinson senseless. Anger and a brand new thirst for revenge seeped through her.

But first she's got to get rid of her pounding headache.

"Good to see you're awake," Draco said, walking in with a tray of espresso. "How're you feeling?"

"Miserable," she grumbled. "Angry. Vengeful. Depressed. Downtrodden. Insecure—"

"I get it, I get it," Draco said, cutting her off with a laugh. "Why don't you wash up and we'll have this before breakfast."

Hermione took his advice and dragged her feet towards the bathroom. After stripping herself of clothing, she stepped inside the shower and let the hot jets soothe her aching body and the warm mist refresh her face. She grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and patted herself dry before realizing something.

Really, Hermione? Really? She was so humiliated right now—but screw that, she was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! She wrapped the towel around her body and peeked out of the bathroom door.

"D-Draco?" she called embarrassedly.

"Yes?" he said, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Can you—? Err, Floo to my apartment and get me some clothes?" she said with a sheepish smile. Draco laughed heartily as he walked out.

He went to his own fireplace and grabbed some Floo powder before calling out Hermione's place. When the emerald flames subsided, however, he was still in his own fireplace. He ran back to the guest room and saw Hermione peeking expectantly.

"How come I can't get through?" he asked. Hermione slapped her forehead.

"I forgot! I closed my fireplace before going out!" she said. "Stupid of me, really."

"No, it was a good safety precaution," he said. Then he walked out again. When he returned he had a handful of clothes. He gave them to her through the door.

"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly.

"Sure I'm sure," Draco replied. "Now hurry up or the coffee will get cold."

Hermione saw the she either had to wear this or parade around in Draco's apartment naked. The latter wasn't acceptable, of course, so she closed the door and began dressing.

Holy shit, Draco thought immediately as soon as she walked out of the bathroom. He'd seen her in office outfits, in a sundress and jeans and shirts, but it was nothing compared to this. She rendered him completely speechless in his own clothing. His shirt was hung so loosely on her frame that it looked like it would fall off any second. His biking shorts were barely visible underneath the huge shirt, and that was just how he liked it.

"I look ridiculous," Hermione groaned with a pout.

"No you don't," Draco contradicted, preventing himself from grabbing and kissing her senseless. Speaking of kiss, didn't she remember anything from last night? He decided not to mention anything; it was an accident after all. Hermione took a sip of espresso and closed her eyes in pleasure.

"I feel better already," she said.

"Better enough to stand up?" he asked. She nodded.

When they finished, they headed to the kitchen for breakfast, Draco served her an extra bowl of chicken soup along with their breakfast of bacon and eggs. While they were eating, an eagle owl hooted on Draco's windowsill. It dropped two identical envelopes on the carpet which Draco summoned with his wand.