Harry Potter 1. Clogs

**21 Drunken Questions at the Leaky Cauldron. **

**I don't own Harry Potter. **

At 17, Hermione was blatantly aware of how disgustingly mundane and uneventful her life was.

She decided that it was time for a drastic change.

She was quite certain that she was the only female in her year that had yet to be thoroughly romanced and deflowered. Being an ugly virgin was a serious social disability and Hermione abhorred incompetence. At this point, love was irrelevant and sex was imperative.

A one night stand was the only solution.

Hermione was determined to lose her virginity within the week, regardless of who it was with. It was purely business and what better way to establish a very important business deal than over a few drinks? Isn't that how single teenagers scored nowadays? She was hardly an alcoholic but if she were going to go through with this, she would have to loosen her inhibitions.

It was 11:01 p.m. and both her roommates, Lavender and Ginny, were soundly asleep. She gazed at them forlornly, they were confident, beautiful and oblivious to her current issue. But despite her sadness, she was going to commence her mission tonight. She seized her wand and quickly transfigured her mundane pajamas into something more appropriate for the occasion...more scandalous and sexy.

A pair of jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and a pair of beige clogs.

Perfect.

"H-Hermione, where are you going? It's almost... midnight."

It was Ginny's muffled voice and Hermione inwardly groaned. She reluctantly turned around to confront the alarmed redhead.

"I'm going out to celebrate my birthday with Harry and Ron," Hermione sighed, running a hand through her unruly curls.

"What?" She sat up a little straighter in bed. "But you're wearing clogs...and it's September, weren't you born in April or something?"

"No Ginny, my birthday is tomorrow. An hour to be exact."

"Oh well, Happy 16th-"

"-18th-"

"-birthday!"

"Well, thanks-off I go now."

"Wait, Hermione," Ginny whisper yelled, Lavender stirred in her bed. "I can't see your neck, or your ankles or breasts or butt or anything."

"I don't understand."

"Why are you fully clothed?" She asked, incredulously. "Aren't you going out to celebrate? Your whole look screams 'I'm a nun and no fun'"

"It's cold out there."

"And?"

Groan. "Well, take your wand out and transform me then!"

Ginny wasted no time grabbing her wand. After a few nonverbal incantations and a few swishes of her wand, Hermione's black turtleneck sweater was transformed into a black, sleeveless tubetop. The jeans remained the same but the clogs were transformed into a pair of stappy black pumps.

"The higher the heels, the looser she feels," Ginny winked.

Although she felt a little uncomfortable with her new attire, Hermione couldn't help but to smile. "Thanks Gin."

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"No Ginny, but thanks again!"

And with that, she apparated to the first place that came to mind: The Leaky Cauldron. It was a cold and dreary autumn night and various sounds echoed ominously outside the pub. She grimaced against the wind and walked cautiously towards the entrance. There were numerous witches and wizards scattered about, slurring aimlessly at each other...or themselves. She inhaled and walked over to an empty stool near the entrance. As soon as she sat down, she spotted the bartender on the far end of the bar, chatting animatedly with a young brunette.

Hermione was feeling slightly impatient and apprehensive and was just about to interrupt their discussion until something bright and muscular caught her eye.

It was a man, of course.

A blond man.

A young and attractive blond man.

Her usual patrolling partner.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione scrutinized him from across the poorly lit pub. He seemed almost unearthly and although his eyes were downcast, he exuded nothing but confidence. He was dressed immaculately in an Oxford blue shirt, a pair of black slacks, impossibly shiny dress shoes, and a diamond encrusted watch that practically lit up the entire tavern. His mercurial eyes were trained on two mugs of Fire whiskey before him, his expression stoic. Although the atmosphere was slightly gloomy and abysmal, his winter-like features managed to glow in the dark. He appeared to be made of crystal. His skin resembled microscopic specks of glitter; dazzling in the darkness.

Hermione realized she was staring openly and quite curiously at him. But she couldn't turn away. She was irrevocably drawn to him like a fly drawn to a mysterious light. It must've been the fact that he looked supernaturally handsome under the unflattering lighting, or perhaps it was the fact that she was feeling pathetically lonely on the eve of her 18th birthday but as she gazed on, goosebumps erupted on her arms. Her hands felt oddly clammy and her stomach was gloriously jittery, as if butterflies would cascade out of her mouth at any moment.

She was nauseous and over-the-edge and suddenly _very_...inspired.

Her virgin problem.

Malfoy could possibly help her with her current predicament.

When she thought about it, he was perfect.

Yes.

He was arrogant, pretentious and infuriating.

But he was also passionate, intelligent, adventurous, undeniably attractive...

And hedonistic.

Perhaps he would help her with her pursuit to lose her virginity without asking for anything in return. This was strictly business, of course. She had no romantic feelings towards Draco and was certain the feeling was was a vacant seat next to him, she noted. Maybe no one would spare her a second glance if she decided to make her way over to the notorious wizard.

She huffed loudly.

The bartender, Heidi White, who was a middle-aged woman with bright auburn hair, regarded her immediately. She slowly made her away over to Hermione and rose a pale eyebrow. "What can I get for you, laddie?" Hermione could tell the woman was slightly suspicious of her.

"I'll take a Firewhiskey," Hermione said, relunctantly tearing her eyes away from Malfoy. She definitely needed a lot more courage if she was going to approach him with such a blunt proposition. "Actually make that two." She smiled up at the older woman, who continued to eye her suspiciously. "Actually, make that three."

"Three firewhiskeys?" Heidi repeated incredulously. "I- uh well...okay. Coming...right up then."

She waved her wand in a flippant manner and wordlessly conjured three mugs of liquid out of thin air. They landed smoothly in front of Hermione, who subsequently paid Heidi. She nodded and gave Hermione another suspicious glance before stalking off.

"Okay," she whispered to herself, as soon as Heidi was out of earshot. "You can do this Hermione. Just need a little bit of liquid courage, is all. Yes, yes, you're a Gyffindor but still..."

She gingerly lifted the middle mug, muttered a quick prayer and gulped the whiskey down mercilessly. The liquid burn it's way down her chest.

"Whoa," she marveled, bobbing slightly. She chanced a glance at Draco. He seemed to be in deep thought, unperturbed by his surroundings. She grabbed another mug of the bubbling liquid and brought it to her lips. Within seconds, it was gone. Usually, Hermione was exceedingly responsible and precarious. She was a woman who knew how to thoroughly control herself when under the influence.

Tonight was different.

The scorching liquid barely made its way to her veins before she felt a very powerful surge of adrenaline.

She was ready to face the world. She was ready to face Draco Malfoy. Getting up out of her stool, She bravely stalked over to him and his lean back towards her.

She took a deep breath.

"Stalking me, Granger?" Draco sneered, without turning around.

Hermione slowly sank into the vacant seat next to him. "Actually, I was just wondering what you were up to," she replied, tentatively.

"You followed me?" Draco asked, looking quite unamused. There were two large mugs situated before him but his gaze was trained on his lap.

Hermione frowned. "No, I just saw you upon entering. Don't you have rounds tonight?" Although slightly irritated, her voice remained unperturbed and patient. Draco, however, was still gazing forlornly at his lap.

His evasiveness disturbed Hermione a little, Draco was never the type to avoid eye contact. "I had better things to do," he muttered bitterly.

Hermione glanced at the alcohol. "Getting drunk, then? You should know better than to drink on a school night," she admonished.

"Yeah? And what about you then? I saw you drinking over there."

Hermione blushed a deep crimson and Draco briskly lifted a mug of alcohol and gulped it down mercilessly. His face contorted unattractively and Hermione watched in mild horror. "Why are you even here?" He wiped the back of his mouth with his palm, Hermione grimaced. He was behaving so uncharacteristically. "Please leave me alone Granger."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "No."

"No?" He repeated, incredulously.

"No," she confirmed, stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm trying to drink myself to death here and you're kind of ruining the occasion," Draco replied earnestly. He briefly met her gaze. His mercurial eyes were slightly hazy, void of mirth, full of gloom. Hermione felt goosebumps erupt all over her arms. She couldn't fathom why she was reacting in this manner, but she didn't want to leave Draco alone.

"Can I join you?" She heard herself saying. He regarded her briefly before pushing a mug of fire-whiskey in her direction. He pointed at it suggestively.

"This doesn't mean you're invited to my funeral," he said, as she gingerly lifted the mug to her lips. She waited until the scorching liquid made its way down her esophagus and into her stomach.

Swaying sightly, she said, "Tell me why you're here."

"No," he scowled. "We are not friends. Why should I tell you? You know nothing about me."

She considered this. They were both prefects and often patrolled the grounds together, she saw him virtually every day but knew nothing about him. They were classmates - maybe acquaintances but definitely not friends. At the moment, she only had one thing on her mind and that was losing her virginity before the end of this week. Perhaps Malfoy would be more likely to help her if he was a little more comfortable with her. "You're right. Let's play a game."

He snorted. Even such an unattractive gesture looked almost sophisticated and regal on him. "Malfoys don't play games."

"Yeah? What's Quidditch, then?"

"A lifestyle."

Hermione sighed and chewed on her bottom lip, she was steadily losing her patience. "Okay, you said we don't know each other. Let's play a game and get to know each other a little better."

Draco watched her in mild amusement. "Why would I want to get to know _you_ better?"

"Because I'm hip and happening," she responded simply. Hermione could've sworn she saw the sides of his lips twitch slightly. His eyes were lit up with something other than despair.

"Although, I _highly_ doubt that," he commenced, offering her the tiniest of smiles. "I'll do it. I need some amusement before I enter the gates of hell."

"That's not funny," she said lucidly. Draco smirked and gazed down at her, willing her to continue. "The game is called 21 questions, we ask each other a series of 21 questions. It's a fun way to pass the time."

Draco scoffed. "This game sounds mind-numbingly uninteresting, but I'll entertain you. But only if I can ask you personal questions, okay?" When Hermione nodded hesitantly, Draco smiled. It was a closed-mouth, boyish smile. A rare kind of smile for Draco. "Perfect, you go first."

"Okay," Hermione started uncertainly. "What is your favorite colour?"

Draco frowned. "Of course a dull and mundane question would be asked by someone so dull and...mundane. Although, I must admit, you stepped it up a bit tonight with your attire."

"That was just a little bit offensive because I think I'm a humdinger but I'll ignore it for now. Now please answer my question."

"...Cool people don't use phrases such as humdinger. And my favorite colour is black." He cradled his head in his palm, gazing down at Hermione, condescendingly.

"Actually black is not a colour. It is the absence of colour." she replied haughtily.

"And you are the absence of joy," He retorted. "Okay, it's my turn. What is your bra size?" He evidently wasted no time with the personal questions. He furtively glanced at her cleavage.

Turning a deep scarlet colour, Hermione protectively crossed her arms against her chest. "That's...a little inappropriate and embarrassing."

"I'm sure being a quadruple A is perfectly normal, Granger." He smiled smugly.

"You're an arsehole and I am a 34C," she said, avoiding his gaze. His winter-like eyes widened considerably.

"Really?"

"Oh shut up! And anyway, it's my turn," she tapped a finger on her chin. "Have you ever been in love ?"

"Me? Fall in love? Granger, I can't even fall asleep," He marveled at her obliviousness. "I've never been in love before...although I came very close once."

"With who?"

"Patience, my little bushy-haired Gryffindor," Draco purred as Hermione rolled her eyes. "How often do you brush that feral mane of yours, anyway?"

"Um...about once or twice-"

"-a decade?"

"-a day," Hermione glared daggers at him. He bit back the urge to snicker, she was undeniably adorable when her face was flushed and contorted with annoyance. "Who did you almost fall in love with? Millicent Bulstrode?"

"Well, she's definitely a step ahead of the Weasel," he said flatly. They exchanged skeptical glances. "Okay, I'm definitely lying...and it wasn't Millicent - it was Daphne Greengrass." He smirked. "She gave me that "come hither" look once and I wanted to shag the daylights out of her,"

"Sounds nasty."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Yes, I suppose it does"

"That barely qualifies as 'love,' Malfoy."

"I said I came close, Granger."

Sigh. "It's your turn."

"Do you think I have a long wand?" He asked, playfully. His grey eyes filled with anticipation and mirth as he drank in Hermione's bemused facial expression.

"I mean, as far as wands go, I suppose...isn't it like 11 inches?" Hermione asked, uncertainly.

"My wand isn't _that_ long," he smirked. Hermione grimaced in utter confusion. "In fact, I heard the average wand is about 5 inches long."

"Huh? Do have your wand with you now?

"Does that count as your question?"

Louder sigh. "Whatever, Malfoy."

"Then my answer is yes. My wand is _always_ with me."

"Let me see it."

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Draco chuckled. "We need to get better acquainted first. Plus we're in public, my massive wand may shock some people."

"What are you-," realization dawned on her and she grew beat red."You are utterly disgusting, just disgusting! The slimiest git I have ever met."

The notion of Draco's _ehem_...being... large didn't actually disgust her. It excited her slightly but she wasn't going to make that known.

"I am flattered," he said, picking an imaginary lint off his shoulder. "I _truly_ am but we don't have time for such niceties, Granger. I have a question. Do you know what sex is?"

Wait. What?

"Wait..._what_?"

"Sex, have you heard of it before?"

"That is the stupidest question I have _ever_ heard in my life! I'm 17 not 7, Malfoy. Of course, I know what sex is. What? Do you think I'm some naive, unassuming, nerdish virgin who's never even a penis before in her life?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger -"

"-I'm not being ridiculous-"

"-I _know_ you've never seen a penis before."

"I have too!" She cried childishly. "I've seen plenty! They were godly and large and...masculine."

"Well, I mean...penises aren't exactly feminine."

Awkward silence.

"...and ancient Greek statues don't count either."

Perhaps _everyone_ thought of her as a naive, unassuming virgin.

Well.

They were in for a big surprise.

"Okay," Hermione said, through gritted teeth. "What is your biggest pet peeve?"

"Bushy-haired know-it-alls," he said, flatly. Hermione resisted the urge to smile. "They flourish and fester during the school year and tend to get under people's skins. Annoying, really." His voice held no malice, it was quite light.

Hermione dropped her gaze and smiled.

"Top three most attractive guys at Hogwarts?" Draco asked. Hermione looked up and rolled her amber eyes, he was exceedingly arrogant. She groaned inwardly, maybe she should lie. "And don't lie." He added, as an afterthought.

"Um...Dean Thomas, um...Blaise is really handsome too...and ..." She coughed. "Um...you, I suppose." She coughed again. Draco smirked and sat up a little straighter in his seat. "But I mean, just barely."

"I'm sexy and we both know it, Granger."

Yes, it was true.

And that was a problem.

But Hermione had another problem.

A bigger one.

Draco called the bartender and ordered another round of drinks.

This was going to be a long night.

**TBH**

**Please, please review ! Should I continue? **

A/n: some things don't apply to this story. Just cuz I said so. Like the whole apparating from the dorms thing and the whole characters being slightly ooc thing. I hope we can look past that.


	2. Boxers

**Chapter 2: Boxers and briefs.**

Heidi was way less suspicious of Draco than she was of Hermione. When Draco ordered another round of six fire whiskeys, Heidi happily obliged and refused any payment.. She even leaned over the bar and promptly kissed on Draco on his temple. He blushed furiously, evidently embarrassed by the very unnecessary display of affection. Heidi winked seductively at the young wizard before departing. He inwardly groaned.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip to deter laughter.

"She seems very find of you," Hermione said, cradling a mug of Firewhiskey. She certainly had no intention of drinking so much, but Draco's presence was beginning to ...disturb her. He made her exceedingly uncomfortable. Everything about him was unsettling, from his aloof demeanor, his crude remarks, and his sudden displays of tenderness. It was a strange feeling. A foreign feeling.

Her black tube top clung helplessly to the sweat on her abdomen and Hermione never sweats.

"Everyone loves Draco," he replied smugly, evidently over his initial embarrassment, "Even those who hate Draco, secretly wish to bang Draco over and over until the end of time...even the blokes."

"Why are you talking in the third person?"

"Draco does as Draco pleases, little girl."

"I'm actually older than you." Hermione shrugged, she took a sip of her Firewhiskey and observed Draco's skeptical expression.

"Oh really, when is your birthday, Granger?" He asked dubiously.

"It's in September," she replied nonchalantly. Draco smiled brightly and gently patted the top of her head. Hermione rolled her amber eyes and continued to casually sip her Firewhiskey. The alcoholic beverage was meant to be consumed ravenously, without thought or caution but Hermione wanted some control over herself. She glanced at the Cheshire Cat themed clock on the adjacent wall and noticed that it was 11:46. Approximately 15 minutes until her birthday.

"I was born in March, Granger," Draco retorted. "I am older than you by six months. Shall we continue with this game?"

"No, Malfoy, I was born six months before you. In 1979," she smiled victoriously upon Draco's deflated expression. "And yes, yes we shall. It's my turn."

"Well, then, go on."

"What is your favorite thing about me?"

The question took Draco slightly of guard. It was bold. Although Hermione was sorted into Gryffinor, she often had difficultly expressing herself. He raked his silvery eyes over her body before answering.

"I like that you're insanely intelligent," he responded dimly , Hermione politely smiled but felt vaguely disappointed. "I also love how soft your skins looks and how you have freckles on your nose. But you know, ...s-stupid stuff," he averted his gaze.

Did it suddenly get hot in there?

No.

It was definitely just Draco.

"W-wow, um," Hermione stammered. "W-wow, you actually complimented me." She suddenly had the urge to jump naked into a pool of freezing cold water.

"Do you prefer boxers or briefs?" Draco asked casually.

His shoulders were slumped over his beverage. His flippant, laid-back behavior suited him well. Hermione felt vaguely disappointed at the thought of possibly never seeing it again but quickly disregarded it. These unnatural thoughts towards the blonde were definitely startling her. She wondered briefly why she wanted to do this with him again.

She could've asked Ron to assist her.

Draco looked up suddenly, interrupting her reveries. He was smiling brightly, his stormy eyes twinkling mischievously.

He was unbelievably attractive.

His fair skin and flaxen hair could inspire poetry from the most heartless and original soul. He continuously exuded charm and poise even when slouching, sulking or in a less-than-attractive position. He was also quite intellectual and surprisingly verbose. Never did Hermione think she would laugh wholeheartedly while in his presence.

This Bump and Grind mission needed to be executed _immediately_.

She harbored no romantic feelings for him, of course. The very notion was utterly preposterous. Wholly ludicrous. Completely mental.

And losing it to Ron would be considered incest.

Incest is bad.

She looked up to find Draco staring at her expectantly.

"Huh?" She said smartly.

Draco sighed. "Boxers or briefs? Do I need to explain the difference to you?"

"Oh. Boxers -"

"I'm wearing briefs-"

"-because they're more modest-"

"-and they actually do nothing to hide my ginormous package-"

"-and I'm quite fond of how boxers look on me-"

"I'm sure you look quite sexy in them," the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. They were not malicious or sardonic. Hermione stared bemusedly at the blonde and Draco chuckled in attempt to dilute the awkwardness.

In all honesty, Draco found Hermione to be attractive. She wasn't a ravishing beauty or an extremely appealing seductress but she was magnetic and quirky. Her whiskey, doe-like eyes were her most striking feature. They were wide, mesmorizing, and...just beautiful. She was curvaceous and feminine. And there were random freckles speckled across her nose, her hair was large and unruly and unorthodox and her lips were almost always parted and her skin was tawny and endless and...and...

"...You complimented me again. Younneed to stop drinking."

Draco suddenly felt affronted.

"What do you mean ?" He asked defensively. "I'm an amazing person. I give plenty of compliments, Granger."

"Do you?"

"Is Snape attractive?"

_Yes_. "...Sorry I doubted you."

"Exactly."

"Okay, let's prove this further. I'll think of someone we both know and you compliment them. Okay?"

"Shall I get completely wasted first?"

"I'd rather you not."

"I'd much rather get chocolate wasted."

Confusion. "That's a muggle term, how do you know about that?"

"I saw it in an American movie once. I think it was called Clueless. That blonde girl was actually pretty hot. Have you heard of it?"

It was like they unknowingly left planet earth and transported to an alternate universe. It was the most bizzare conversation she had ever had with a wizard in her entire life.

"How do you know about movies? And why clueless? Why not something classier like Dirty Dancing or Ace Ventura?"

Draco stared at her, dumbfounded. "Calm down, Granger. I have no idea what you're going on about. Clueless is the only movie I've ever watched."

"How?"

"Like I would diclose that information? As if!" His valley girl accent was impeccable.

Man, he was definitely drunk.

"Okay...um...are we doing this compliments thing for not?" Hermione asked warily.

"Fine, shoot."

"Compliment Luna."

"Her blonde hair is the exact same shade of my pubic hair. I'm quite fond of my pubic hair."

"I don't know if that counts a compliment and I'm slightly traumatized...Okay... How about Lavender?"

"Her breasticals are amazing."

"That's not a word."

"Is too!"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Use it in a sentence."

"I just did, Granger. Her breasticals are amazing. "

"You're utterly insufferable."

"Fine, Her balloons of sin are amazing. Her dirty pillows are ridiculously shaggy. Her glorious tits are stupendous."

"You know, they have therapy groups and psychologists for that addiction of yours...and don't stare at Lavender's cleavage! That's degrading."

"I'm not sure what a psychologist is, but it sounds kinky. And for your information, I wasn't staring at her boobs. I was staring at her heart."

Hermione couldn't help but to giggle. This was perhaps the strangest conversation she's had in a while. It was whimsical, light and quite amusing. Draco was being...amicable. Maybe it was just the alcohol. Blame it on the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

"Question, why are you here tonight?" Hermione asked.

Draco hesitated before answering. "I..um...I got into a fight with my father. And he said some really...hideous things..."

"Well, listen," she started softly. "I'm sure you don't want to give a detailed explanation of what went down but just...don't let it hurt you or make you consider ending your life. You're an...awesome person. The world would be less awesome without you."

But you know, she definitely didn't have any feelings for him or anything.

Draco nodded and turned away and Hermione decided that things were getting a little too melodramatic for her.

"I have something to tell you," Hermione said. She glanced at the clock. It struck 12.

"You're in love with me?" Draco smirked. "Unfortunately, you're going to have to wait in line, Granger. There are tons of witches waiting to ride the Draco express. Just talk to the president of my fan club for inquiries."

Hermione snorted. "I'm not in love with you or your big ego -"

"Oh please, you love my big 'ego'."

Kinda. "No, I don't."

"Okay, we'll pretend for now, but go on."

She inhaled sharply. "It's my birthday," she beamed.

It was officially her 18th birthday and she couldn't be anymore nauseous.

Draco gazed intently at the radiant brunette for several seconds. "Shall we continue with this questions game then?"

Huh?

Did he just completely disregard what she had just announced? Did it not matter to him that it was her birthday?

"Oh-um-yeah..."she said, trying to conceal the hurt in her voice but failing miserably.

"Do you want birthday punches or...birthday kisses?"

Oh.

Well.

"Oh...um...yeah," she responded smartly.

"You said that already."

"-Yeah, I guess I did."

"So what will it be, Granger? You have to choose."

She knew the answer the moment he asked it.

"Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?" Hermione lifted three fingers.

"Three..."

He wasn't completely drunk but she was still very skeptical. _Maybe this was a joke. H_e was probably planning on embarrassing her and she wasn't going to risk it. She was not going to let him ruin her night.

Not on her birthday.

When she told him that she preferred birthday punches.

He kissed her anyway.

His lips were moist from the alcohol and his tongue was simply intoxicating. This was probably due to the fact that his mouth was literally intoxicated from the large amounts of alcohol he consumed but whatever.

She roughly grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him closer and he clutched her butt, digging his daft fingers into the denim material and she didn't reject it.

It was euphoria but unfortunately they both had to come up for air.

Hermione was the first one to speak.

"I have a very important question to ask you."

**TBH**

**PLEASE Review.**

Sorry for the late update. Work and writer's block. Y'all already know what it is.


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Harry Potter, Humor, Romance