Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Empire	By : waymay & Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12290 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters written in this story; everything belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I don't make any profit from these stories!

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: Whoa! These chapters are just comin' out like magic. Thank you, once again, for all the reviews! They add fuel to my writings, and you're all doing an amazeball job at it! So, I wanted to point out (and I think some of you guys got it) The Bogrod Madoff character is actually a play on a real person named Bernard Madoff known for being an American fraudster and former stockbroker. He was part of the largest financial fraud in U.S. history! :O And now, down to some review responses!
@ HarryGinny4eva : Thank you! XD It was the most hilarious, commonly known position that I could think of on a whim!
@ Mesatri: Thank you so much for the reviews! Hopefully you've enjoyed the other chapters (and this one too)!
As always, thank you Mr. Benzedrine for supporting me and proofing Empire! She, finally, finished Sex Ed and with awesome ending and epilogue, so be sure to give it a gander!
Chapter 5
Know Your Limits
"What?" Hermione sat up, startled.
She looked around, dazed and confused. Covering her was a soft comforter, and, apparently, she'd just woken up as well. An abnormally loud thumping sound echoed in her head, rattling her brain.
Despite her situation, London was beautiful today. The birds were singing in the sky, and the people outside in Diagon Alley chattered away happily. The gentle glow of the morning sunlight was harsh to her eyes. It took her a second before it dawned on her -this wasn't her room.
She tried to make a move out of bed, but halted-Nope. Nope. If she moved anymore, she was going to vomit all over these nice sheets. Were these Egyptian cotton? Okay... So, she would just stay in this stranger's bed. Hermione, slowly, turned her head, enough so she could get a better view of the bedroom she resided in as she tried to figure out just who it belonged to.
The walls were tea green accented in an eggshell white with antique, wooden furniture neatly arranged throughout the room. A beautifully carved, large armoire sat directly in front of her. She squinted to get a better view. Were those clothes sticking out the bottom of the door?
Silver cushioned arm chairs sat next to both sides of the closet, and one of them seated a Draco Malfoy. He slouched in the seat, his legs extended out while an elbow was propped on the armrest as his head rested on the palm on his hand. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose slowly as he continued to slumber. Malfoy was still dressed in yesterday's clothing: a nice dark green button down and dark grey slacks.
Oh! She looked down -too fast, too fast! Hermione winced and groaned, taking a second to recuperate. Okay -she was still wearing her awesome Gryffindor sweater.
Merlin, what happened last night?
"Malfoy?"
He opened an eye, peeking out under hooded eyelids, responding to the timid voice of Granger's. Draco fell asleep watching the witch. Not in a creepy way, of course -just making sure she slept fine throughout the night.
When she noticed his reaction, she continued, her voice scratchy and her throat dry. "What happened?"
"You got drunk," he drawled, staring at the hungover witch.
"I kept drinking? The stuff tasted awful."
"Yes, you said it again after. And, for the record, you don't shoot brandy. You sip." Draco yawned, stretching his arms and legs.
"Seems like I still have a lot to learn... Anyway-did anything else happen?"
The corner of his lips twitched upwards. "Oh, lots."
A blush crawled its way up Granger's already tinted cheeks as she absorbed his retort. Judging by how she kept eye contact, Draco figured she wanted to know what happened but was too afraid to ask -or, maybe, she was just concentrating really hard on not throwing up. Either one of those were legitimate reasons.
"Well, for starters, you talk really, really fast -almost like an auctioneer."
"Say, 'she sells seashells by the sea shore.' But five times fast."
"She sells seashells by the sea shore. She sells seashells by the sea shore! She sales seasells by the sea sore-Oh!" She laughed, covering her mouth as she messed up the tongue twister.
The two of them kept each other entertained, though there was more business to discuss.
"Okay," Draco chuckled. "Back on topic, now."
Granger bounced on the balls of her feet as she tried to explain to Draco her insight on what could have possibly happened with his financier. This was her third time attempting to describe it to him, but, just like before, she kept losing track of her thought process and insisted on starting over. Of course, Draco was no better in keeping her on topic.
"Right-o, Malfoy-o." She snapped her fingers, pointing at the wizard before her, her hand shaped as a gun. "You want to know how you got conned? Oh, well, I'll tell you how you got conned." Granger pointed her quill at him, smirking. Merlin, was she ever drunk. What was with the pointing her fingers at him? Was that some muggle custom? "Of course, this is all a theory. There's no way we would really know unless we confront Boggart-Oh!" She snorted, "No, it's Bodoff, right? Yes, yes, Bodoff. Look at me, calling him a Boggart. I'm sure he looks like one though, not that we really know what a Boggart looks likes. Riddikulus!" Hermione giggled as she held her quill and flung it around, making the Riddikulus gesture.
"Granger -back on topic." He snapped his fingers at her face. Draco would have been more annoyed by her actions, but to be honest, it was rather entertaining. The level-headed, Gryffindor princess, Hermione Granger, was drunk. Off two shots of brandy. There was, definitely, a first for everything.
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes. What was I saying?"
"How I got conned."
"Right-o! You're so smart." She grinned at the blonde, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol. "Do you know what itemizing is?" Granger paused. The lack of response was suspenseful.
Draco shook his head.
"Well, lesson has begun!" She slammed her hand on the table, causing the man to flinch. "Do you know what itemizin-Oh, didn't I just ask that?" Granger cleared her throat, straightening her back, trying to look proper as she began explaining."Boggart, I think, comes to you at the beginning of the month, -hic- giving you a document saying, 'this is how much we're going to spend this month,'" she lowered her voice, emulating how a man would talk. "And then, he gives you the number -say two -hic- thousand galleons, will be spent on item A, then another two thousand is spent on item B and so on." She jotted down on a parchment that she pulled out while she was in the middle of talking. As if her illegible scribble would help clarify things. Ha. "You say, 'okay.' You sign the paper. The end, right?" Granger looked up a Draco, pausing for a moment. "But it's not the end! There's more!"
She threw her hands out above her head, throwing invisible confetti.
The witch laughed, for some reason finding her explanation funny. "Boggart, actually, takes a huge fraction of the money for himself, and whatever is remaining is spent on cheaper parts to build your items."
Draco chewed on his bottom lip, staring down at the parchment. It made sense, surprisingly. "Wouldn't that mean my products are of lesser quality?"
"Precisely. Fifty points to Slytherin!" She giggled once more.
His brows furrowed, an apparent frown etched onto his lips. "But we've been in meetings where the manufacturer designed a prototype with the items that were being purchased."
Granger shrugged. "Maybe Bugger cut the guy a deal or something. -hic- I dunno."
"At least I was still helpful," Hermione gave Malfoy a shy smile after he finished recounting last's night episode.
"Yes, well, you certainly took your time."
"Did anything else happen?"
"Mmm..." He pinched his nose, pretending to be lost in thought. "Nope."
"Alcohol is amazing!" She hugged the bottle of brandy. "It's nasty, but it's amazing! I've never felt so energized! You know... You know I've had eight whoo-hic -oole cups of coffee the morning of the N.E.W.T.s? That'salotofcoffee, and it didn't do anything but make my hands shake." She held out her hands towards Draco, giving him an example of what it would have looked like during her exame. "Do you think-Do you think if I had another shot, I'll be able to control time?" Granger stared at the bottle in wonder, sloshing the amber liquid around in its container. "It'd... It'd be like magic." Her eyes widened instantly, filling with wonder.
Draco exhaled sharply through his nostrils at her comment. The thought of his financier embezzling money from him absolutely pissed him off, but having Granger around, being all stupid and silly, pushed all those thoughts to the back of his mind, finding entertainment in her dishevelment. He took a tip of his brandy from the coffee mug. "Only one way to find out, Granger."
"Yea?" Her eyes glimmered.
It was clear the witch never experienced alcohol -or at least not to this extent. Aside from the obvious entertainment, maybe it was good for her, too. To let loose a little bit. Everyone who knew Granger from Hogwarts knew she usually had everything lined up just the way she wanted -that she held the reins a little too tight.
"Go for it."
Plus, he would have the opportunity to see a side of Granger that even Potter and Weasley haven't had the chance to.
She went to twist the cap open, and instead of pouring a shot for herself like any normal person, the damn crazy witch drank straight from the bottle.
"Oy!" Draco flew off his seat, stumbling over to her, and pulled the liquor from her hand, spilling some onto the table and floor in the process. Alcohol was expensive, and it irritated Draco to know that Granger thought it was acceptable to just put her lips on his bottle. Wait. 'Phrasing, Draco!'
"What? Why?" She pouted, staring at him with pleading eyes. "The fun's just getting started!"
"Yes, well, I think you've had quite enough fun for tonight, don't you think?" he snarled, wiping down the lip of the bottle and recapping it.
"What do the -hic- kids say these days?" With her pointer finger, she tapped on her chin, thinking. "Oh! The night is always young! Now gimme the bottle." She tried snatching the bottle away from Draco, but he quickly held the bottle high above their heads.
"Why don't we drink some water instead?" While he was enjoying (though, he would never admit it) her change in personality, Draco didn't want to have to deal with cleaning up after her. He already cleaned the house today, and he didn't plan for it to be on his agenda anytime soon. Plus, cleaning sick always made him sick.
Draco made his way to the liquor cabinet to put up the brandy. He tapped the handles with his wand, locking them so the witch wouldn't try steal anymore sips (or gulps). When he turned around, Granger had already crept up behind him, and she stared deep into his eyes. "What?"
Her, previously, carefree expression was replaced with a more serious tone. She hiccuped, yet again. Her words slurred ever so slightly as the alcohol took a harsher effect on her. "I never got the opportunity to say thankew."
If anything, it should have been him thanking her -for reaching out to him in the first place and then following through with everything else. No, Malfoys were much too prideful. Draco would probably never utter those two words to the witch. Plus, she already had an ego the size of her hair.
"Thank you? What for?" He feigned disinterest while folding his arms across his chest.
"It's been on my mind for a while now."
"Ugh, I don't feel so good." Hermione groaned as she tried to slowly shimmy off the bed. She didn't realize, until now, just how awkward it was waking up in the morning in the same room with her childhood nemesis. Never in her life did she imagine this would happen. If only the fifteen-year-old Hermione could see this; she'd probably shriek.
"Yea, it's called a hangover," Malfoy drawled, looking at his fingernails.
"My head's spinning, my stomach hurts -Urp!" She lurched forward, her hands quickly covering her mouth as her cheeks puffed up. Unshed tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
He jumped off his couch, quickly grabbing a trash bin and held it in front of the witch. "Do try to keep your food in rather than out? This is an expensive rug, after all." As much as he tried to hide it, mainly because he'd been in her boat before, he couldn't help but wear a look of disgust on his face as he watched her spill more of last night's content into the container. Draco looked down at the carpet, making sure none of the bits splashed out.
The tears came running down as she sniffled. Alcohol, even from last night, really burned coming back up. Hermione made a silent vow to never drink liquor again.
"Why don't I go make you a Cure-All potion? It'll help with your, uh, situation." He set the bin down once Hermione was through, and all that was left was her dry heaving.
She gave him a thumbs up, unable to provide a verbal response.
"-hic- It's been yeeeaaars since I last saw you." She poked his chest, adding weight onto her pointer finger as she swayed forward. "Other than seeing your mug on the Prophet, that is. Do you know when was the last time I saw you?" Granger paused, staring at her finger that was still planted on Draco's sternum, wondering why she poked him to begin with. "It was -hic- during the trials."
Draco's heart stopped as the memories of his friends and family being sentenced to Azkaban came flooding back. He sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth. He tried so hard to keep those memories locked away. It was partly because of those thoughts that he drank himself to a stupor almost every single night. And now it flared in front of him like a siren by the very witch who helped send them there.
Anger bubbled deep within him, threatening to erupt. What was it to her to bring up these terrible memories? To brag about how she and her stupid friends made it out? How they ended up being the heroes and gaining all the glory? Because of them, he was stuck in this predicament. Without a home, without friends or family, without anyone to turn to. He was forced to learn how to make it on his own when the rest of the world's turned against him.
Draco was a second away from kicking the stupid witch out of his apartment -and see if he cared if she was able to make it home or not! But she spoke up once more, distracting him from his thoughts.
"It was because of -hic- you that me, Harry, and Ron are here today." She sat down with a plop onto the wooden floor, crossing her legs.
Draco looked down, then back up, noticing a chair only two feet away. Was the floor more comfortable? "What?" he asked, suddenly remembering her comment.
"You don't -hic- remember?" She glanced at him, a hurt look apparent on her face.
"No, I remember it like it was yesterday."
Granger laughed quietly, "Oh, oh, man, I'm... I'm really drunk right now, Dra-hic-co."
His contempt towards the witch washed out the window as he heard her address him by his given name. Never did she ever call him 'Draco' to his face- it was always Malfoy and, if he recalled correctly, even Ferret one time. He tried to steady his heart, as it was beating wildly, telling himself she was drunk and unaware of her actions.
"I don't drink." She gulped. "I never drink. -hic- I don't know why I did it tonight. I was nervous coming over." Granger wrung the bottom of her sweater as she tried to explain herself. "Being around you, Malfoy..." Oh, there she went, back to just Malfoy. Yeah, it was just a slip of the tongue. "I'm not... used to it. We don't...-hic- We don't hang out. I know this is business, but it's odd. It's different."
"'Odd' is putting it lightly, Granger."
She chuckled once more, and his heart skipped another beat. "Indeed. You know you saved our lives?" The witch, finally, looked up after spending eternity fumbling around with her top.
Draco remained silent, his brows furrowing once more at her comment. This woman... This woman was just sending him through a rollercoaster of emotion tonight.
"When we were at your parents' manor, when your- when Bellatrix, when she asked whether Harry was actually Harry. You claimed you didn't know, -hic- sure, but looking back, I mean, Harry's 'disguise' wasn't the best." Granger gave the blonde a half-smile as she held up two fingers from each hand, giving him air quotes. "That... gave us a second chance, you know? A second chance to live. A second chance to beat Voldemort. Can you imagine what a -hic- terrible world the rest of the us would be living in today had you given away our identity? You could have said it was us! I always knew you were good, -hic- Malfoy. Even if the other two think otherwise."
He found himself staring at the witch in awe,and he quickly looked elsewhere. Anywhere but at her. He, suddenly, wasn't worth being in her presence. Did she always see the 'good' in him? Draco didn't have the heart to tell her the only reason why he chose to lie to his aunt was because he was a coward. When Bellatrix confronted him, all he could think of was: what if he got it wrong? What if it was just his luck for them to capture Harry Potter only for him to end up being a doppelganger? He had been terrified of disappointing his father... and even more so, Voldemort. After he failed to kill Dumbledore...No, he hadn't been willing to take the bet. Draco didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart; he did it because he was a coward.
And for some reason, even in her drunken state, Granger was still sharp as ever. She noticed his conflicted thoughts, though he tried desperately to maintain his usual facade. "It's why I approached you, ya'know, when I read about your situation in the papers. I couldn't live my life knowing you were in such a predicament, while the rest of us lived comfortably."
Draco clenched his jaw, still refusing to make eye contact with the insufferable witch.
"You deserve a second chance."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. What should he say? Was she waiting for him to respond?
"Thank you."
"Granger-" He couldn't hold it in anymore. The witch needed to learn the truth -that he was a coward, a no-good, rotten to the depths of Hell coward.
"-URP." Her eyes widened as her stomach gurgled loudly.
Oh shite, he knew the look she was giving him. It was the I'm-about-to-throw-up-in-your-face look.
She jumped up, landed flat on her feet and bolted to the sink in the kitchen, making it just in time before spilling out the contents of her stomach. The sound of regurgitated brandy bounced off the walls.
"Oh maan," Draco groaned, rolling his eyes at the woman hunched over the basin. Where was a house elf when you needed one? Though in a foul mood, he made his way over to the sick witch and pulled her massive hair back. While he wasn't a fan of Granger at the moment, he still chose to help her out rather than sit back and watch her upchuck whatever was in her stomach. He didn't need her to make even more of a mess. Of course, it's what he would tell her if she were to remember the events that transpired tonight.
"Get it all out, Granger." He patted her back, trying to comfort her as she sobbed into the sink. For a moment, he wondered if Potter and Weasley ever took care of her in this state. Probably not. Especially since the witch admitted to hardly drinking. Still, he felt a tad sorry for her.
Draco conjured a glass of water, setting it next to the woman. "It'll help you feel better."
She sniffled, "Thank you..." There was a pause. "Don't...Don't tell Malfoy what I told you tonight, okay? I don't know how he would take if it he was to know the reason behind why I'm helping him with his business..." She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. "I don't want him to think it's all charity."
Hermione sat at the edge of the bed, her feet dangling. From the bedroom, she was able to hear all the commotion going outside, presumably in the kitchen where Malfoy offered to make her a hangover potion.
She felt a world of difference once she rid the remaining alcohol from her stomach. She reached for her wand, which Malfoy placed on the nightstand next to the bed, and magicked away the contents in the trash can. The least she could do was just clean after herself. Hermione was grateful for his care.
Not wanting to just sit around and wait, she made her way to the kitchen. Malfoy was already brewing the potion with the cauldron sitting atop a burning fire. He said nothing as she entered the room, concentrating on stirring the mixture and occasionally adding in extra ingredients.
"Smells nice." She broke the silence.
"The potion's scent is different with each person."
"You were always better than me at potions. I believe that was the one class where you scored higher grades." She sat herself down across from the wizard as she continued to make small talk. "You did beat me by only two points," Hermione paused. "But I think it's because Snape favored you over me."
"A win's a win," he said as a matter-of-factly. "And I was always better than you at potions. Favoritism had nothing to do with it." Malfoy finally glanced up at her, noticing her disheveled hair. "How do you live with that?" He pointed at the brown nest. "A bird could live in that."
Hermione glared. "My hair is just fine, thank you very much." She patted her head. In an attempt to make a point, she ran her fingers through her hair only to get them tangled.
"Apparently your sense of fashion is also fine." Malfoy carefully poured the bubbling blue liquid into a steel flask and set it atop a bowl of ice. "Let it cool a few minutes, then it should be good to drink." He poured the rest into small vials, setting them aside.
"Why won't it stop?" she groaned, clutching her stomach as she continued to stand over the sink.
"You did go a little overboard with the drinking, Granger," he drawled, exhausted from holding her hair back.
It'd been over an hour since Granger started feeling sick, and while all that was left was dry heaving and a terrible stomachache, she insisted that more was to come out.
"I hate drinking!"
Note to self -never offer Granger alcohol again.
Draco sighed, handing her another glass of water. "Drink more. You'll feel better soon."
The drunk witch complied, taking the cup and downing it quickly. Her eyes were glazed over as she looked at him, swaying back and forth as if the room was spinning. In her current state of mind, it probably was.
"Thank you for taking care of me." She managed to give him a smile.
Of course he had to take care of her. She was in his house, drinking his alcohol, and he was the one to egg her on, allowing her to take more. Draco didn't realize what a lightweight Granger ended up being, else, he wouldn't have allowed it to go so far.
It was, what, two shots and a few gulps? It wasn't even comparable to what he drank in an hour.
"Perhaps you want to lay down? You might feel better," he offered.
"I don't wanna go home."
"You... You don't have to go home."
"...Okay. We can go lay down." She tried to turn around, grabbing his arm as support. "Where do I sleep?" Granger made an attempt to walk but lost her footing, almost slipping and pulling him down with her.
"Ah-shit!" Draco grabbed her by her armpits, yanking her upright once more.
"Oopsies!" she giggled, leaning back against him. "It seems my feet don't know how to walk anymore."
The blonde rolled his eyes and gave a heavy sigh. "C'mon.." He shifted his weight, squatting down and easily scooped her up with an arm at the back of her knees, the other one grasping her arm from the back. Huh, Granger was much lighter than she looked. She appeared heavier with all that hair on her head, that was for sure.
"Wheee!" She laughed again, throwing her arms up in the air like a child.
"You can sleep on my bed tonight." He carried her into his bedroom, setting her gently onto the bed.
Her eyes were already closed as exhaustion quickly took over. "Good night, Draco."
"Is it safe to drink?" She looked at him, skeptical, while sniffing the flask. Spending time with Malfoy was one thing, drinking something he made was another. In the back of her mind, the trust wasn't quite there yet - though she did say he was a good person last night (not that she remembered).
The blonde rolled his eyes, taking a vial he set aside for a rainy day and quickly downed it. "I'm not about to poison the Hermione Granger. Do you realize the kind of press I'll get?"
Hermione laughed, giving in, and took a few sips of the potion. And in an instant, the constant thundering in her head cleared away, and it was all sunshine once more.
She sighed, a content smile written on her face. She glanced over at the clock, 10:20. Luckily for her, it was a weekend, and she didn't have to go in for work-Oh, holy crap! Hermione straightened, her eyes widened as panic replaced her prior expression. "Oh...no..."
"What?"
"I, uh, I did something really bad."
"Worse than throwing up in my house last night?"
The witch waved him off. "I'm being serious, Malfoy! I -I really have to go." She hopped off the chair and gathered her belongings. "Thank you so much for taking care of me, Malfoy. I appreciate you. And- and for the potion, it tastes great. You're a wonderful potionsmith, and the artworks," she gestured to the sketches that were still thrown all over the dining table, "Are amazing. We'll talk more about finding manufacturers and the like, soon, but I really, really have to go."
Without giving him an opportunity to respond, she Disapparated from the Leaky Cauldron and Apparated back in her office at the joke shoppe.
She had planned to go back after taking a shower, but when Malfoy's owl arrived at her apartment, she created an entirely new agenda for the evening, completely forgetting about the two boys.
Her wide, brown orbs stared at the two standing before her. While they haven't moved from the night before, their appearance, certainly, changed. "Uhm, good morning, boys." She spoke in a small voice, apologetic. "Finite Incantatem!"
The two Weasleys, released from their petrification, slumped onto the ground with a loud thud. Ron, with trembling hands, wiped away the tears pouring out of his eyes as they were rendered unblinking the entire night. George, on the other hand, started to laugh quietly, amazed at her dedication.
"Blimey, 'Mione!" the older one exclaimed. He grabbed his head as he made an attempt to grasp his hair. George's expression changed completely when he immediately noticed there was nothing to grab onto. "Where's...Where's my hair, Hermione?" His brown eyes fixed on hers.
"Well..." she started, fiddling with her hand as she watched Ron feel his smooth head.
"Oy! 'MIONE." her best friend shouted. His face turned into a deep shade of red, almost comparable to his hair -had he any left.
"The potion," Hermione started, growing stiff. "It's a balding potion!"
George and Ron pointed at each other as they noticed the other's bald head.
"My luscious locks!" George whined.
"The balding potion was created by completely accident," she explained to the two. During the wet seasons, Hermione's hair seemed to have a mind of their own, growing frizzier and frizzier. In an attempt to rectify the situation, she tried to concoct an anti-frizz potion. Something, obviously, went wrong during her attempt to create the brew. Of course, Hermione being herself, wouldn't try a potion she's never created on herself. She took a pygmy puff from the store and brought it home. "And well, the rest is history." She shrugged. "Also, pygmy puffs bald? It's like a nightmare come to life. Don't ever do it."
"Where is it now?"
"George! This is not the time to ask 'bout the pygmy puff! I'm bald!" Ron shouted, pointing at his oddly shiny head. "How... How could you do this, 'Mione?!" It almost sounded as if he was sobbing.
"You threw a stink bomb in my office! It still smells!"
"Yes! And we were stuck in the office the entire night while... while you were out playing hookey!"
She glowered at the younger Weasley. "Well, revenge is a dish best served cold. Perhaps you'll learn to not bother me while I'm working."
"You were sleeping!"
"Staying up all night working on your finances for the store!"
"You were still sleeping!"
The witch fumed at his stubbornness. Yes, it was her fault for leaving the boys there overnight, but it wouldn't have happened if they could just grow up and leave her alone during work hours. "You intolerable, insufferable, unbearable...dolt!" Hermione stomped at the ground, her hands balling up in a fist as she controlled her anger. "Yesterday you apologized for being a git, and now you're being one again!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Why can't you just appreciate me for all the hard work I've done all these years? And you wonder why the two of us didn't work out!" Her breathing was heavy as she yelled at him, not caring one bit that George was there to take in all the glory of his little brother being eaten alive.
The room fell into silence.
"Think about these past few years and consider what I've done for you before you yell at me for one mistake that I've made...when you've made many more yourself." Hermione steadied her breathing. "George-" She turned to the older one, "For what it's worth, you look stunning bald. I'll see you two on Monday."
A/N: Thanks everyone, again, for reading Empire! I've been having a lot of fun writing these past few chapters, and I hope you're enjoying them as well. I wanted to explain a little bit about Hermione's drunkenness, 'cause I know there might be some questions as to why I made her that way. In the HP stories, she's always been someone who works really hard. She doesn't take time for herself to relax, even if it's just a little bit. So, when she's around Draco, she's nervous, because she's not used to being around someone she loathed since childhood. It's a different environment for her and she's unsettled by it, and what's better than to take some shots? For those who've had nights where you drink a little too much... well, I think everything Hermione did was rather reasonable. :)
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Empire