Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy flipped over his shot glass and slammed it down on the table.
"That's six! You twats need to catch up."
Blaise Zabini snorted as Theo Nott extended a middle finger in Draco's direction.
"Just because some of us like to enjoy our whisky." Blaise took an elegant nip.
"This is not sipping quality." Draco shook his head.
"Fuck you," said Theo, who had brought the bottle. "This is an Ogdens 18-year."
"Exactly."
"You know you are such a fucking cuntrag sometimes." Theo gave Draco a filthy look, then drained two shots in quick succession. "There, caught up. Zabini?"
"Fine." Blaise tipped his glass into his mouth and filled it again. "Happy now?"
"Well let's say 'less-ashamed' rather than 'happy,'" Draco said. After the week he'd had he wasn't in the mood for a leisurely night where they sat by the fire slowly enjoying a drink or two, as if they were their bloody fathers. He wanted to get drunk. Rat-arsed, titted, lashing, blotto drunk, and forget his life for a while.
He'd known his mandated eighth year at Hogwarts was going to be a fucking chore. Between his unsavory activities during the war, his father's public trial and subsequent Azkaban sentence, and the fact that a good number of people attending the school actively hated him, it really couldn't be anything other than an extended ass-fuck.
But this week, which had included losing the Seeker position on the Slytherin Quidditch team to an incompetent third-year, could suck a particularly large dick. He filled his glass again and let the smooth liquid burn down his throat. He had been mostly fucking with Theo—it was actually decent.
Theo cleared his throat. "All right, tossers. It's time for a little game." Draco noted his friend was slurring and snorted to himself. Theo was such a lightweight, but at least he was entertaining.
"Not 'Fuck, Marry, Kill', please Theo. We're not fourth-years," Blaise sniffed. To Draco's amusement, Theo abruptly shut his mouth and cut his eyes to the side.
"Ah, no. Of course not. I mean—" He sat up and leaned toward them with a leer. "Who cares about the marry and kill part?"
"If you want to know who I'd most like to fuck, that's fairly simple." Blaise held up an elegant hand and counted down. "1. Weasley, 2. Vane, 3. Greengrass."
"Which one?" Draco asked, thinking of the equally gorgeous Greengrass sisters: Daphne in 8th year and Astoria in 6th.
"Both, obviously. Preferably together." Blaise's smile was positively feral.
Draco rolled his eyes. Typical.
"Weasley's your number one, though?" Theo asked, looking unsettled by the idea.
"Her body is insane and I like that take-no-prisoners attitude. And of course the fact that you have such a hard-on for her would make it that much sweeter." Blaise slanted a smirk at Theo, who tried to look blasé but failed. Blaise started laughing.
"All right, shut the fuck up, Zabini." Theo shouldered up from the slouchy armchair he was occupying and refilled his glass. "I actually had a different question, anyway."
"Do tell," said Draco.
Theo leveled a smirk at his two friends. "Hogwarts' biggest challenges."
Draco frowned. What was he on about?
Blaise looked similarly confused, so Theo elaborated. "The girls who would never let us! Weasley is actually a great example. We're all dying to shag her,"
"Not all of us," said Draco.
"All of us with working male parts are dying to shag her," clarified Theo. "But would she have any of us? Potter's ex? A Weasley, Gryffindor's star seeker? Plus she's gorgeous. It would be almost impossible."
"Says you." Blaise smirked.
"Actually, I think Daphne might fall into this category too," mused Draco, warming to the subject. "That ice princess thing? And I think she might play for the other team anyway. Pansy has hinted." Blaise moaned with poorly suppressed desire.
"Legrand!" Theo shouted and all of them nodded and groaned. A seventh-year Slytherin, Beatrice Legrand was so wealthy she only attended Hogwarts a handful of months out of the year. And she was betrothed to an older boy from Durmstrang who was some sort of Count.
"That's damn near impossible, even for me." Blaise shook his head. "I think we've hit the bar. Is there anyone more difficult?"
His words were hanging in the air when Draco felt a magnificent plan spring fully-formed into his mind. Could it work? He thought it could. A grin split his face and he said, "I know someone."
"Who?" Theo demanded.
"Granger."
"Oh fuck ME, I can't believe we forgot her!" Theo was really slurring now. "She would never let any of us get within ten feet of her precious, pristine knickers. Not that I wouldn't love to," he leered. "But yeah. Impossible."
"Impossible, you say?" Draco tilted his head to the side and regarded his extremely pissed friend. "Would you care to wager on that?"
Theo's eyes lit and Blaise sat up straighter in his seat.
"What are your terms?" Theo asked.
"If I can prove I've fucked Granger by a mutually agreed upon point in time, you give me your box at the Quidditch world cup next summer." The Malfoy box had strangely been one of the things 'confiscated' by the ministry at Lucius's sentencing.
"Fuck, that's worth 10,000 galleons." Blaise's habitual cool was shaken.
"Hmmm." Theo swirled the liquid in his glass and stared into the distance. "I risk a measly 10k to get to watch you be magnificently rejected by the biggest swot in school? Who also happens to have a wicked wand hand and will probably hex your balls off in the process? I'd say that's actually a pretty decent exchange."
Draco inclined his head. Since Nott senior had died, Theo had been making quite free with the family fortune, which was vast.
"I dunno, Theo." Blaise was shaking his head. "It's risky. My man here is skilled. Look at all the tail he gets even though he's ex-death eater scum. And he's just been assigned Granger's Potions partner, so he's got an in."
Draco gave Blaise a pretend dirty look. Blaise put up his hands and smiled.
"OK, so let's make it harder, then," Theo was saying. He pointed at Draco. "You not only shag Granger, but you make her fall for you. You take her out on dates, you get her blushing… you get her to agree to go to the Winter Ball with you!" His eyes blazed with triumph.
Draco squinted in what he hoped was a convincingly skeptical way. "You're insane, Theo."
"No, no!" Theo had jumped up and was weaving in place. "I'll make it worth your while. An extra 5k. In gold. IF she goes to the ball with you and, annnnd—snogs you on the dance floor for the whole school to see. And you have to have shagged her by then too."
"And if I lose?"
"Oh fuck, I don't care. Your humiliation is my reward," Theo chortled.
Draco smirked then sat, letting the silence draw out as he appeared to contemplate the terms. Finally, when Theo was starting to sputter, he looked up, stuck out his hand and said, "You're on."
"Yessssss…" Theo did a little victory dance, holding the whisky bottle and sloshing liquid from his glass.
"This year just got so much more interesting." Blaise's white teeth glinted against his golden skin. "Ok, chaps. Let's work out the details."
~oOo~
Draco lingered near the doorway to the potions lab a good fifteen minutes before class was supposed to start. He knew Granger liked to get there early to 'arrange her workspace,' as she'd primly informed him the day before, when Slughorn had made them partners. He'd rolled his eyes then, but secretly appreciated the neatly organized set up and how they were able to immediately jump into the assignment rather than scramble around like everyone else.
He'd also appreciated having someone actually competent to work with. Their sleeping draught had turned out absolutely perfect: a pearlescent blue with little wisps of lavender-scented steam wafting from it. They'd been yawning just sniffing at it.
Slughorn had been so pleased, he'd immediately bottled it and stowed it rather furtively in a locked desk drawer. Draco had no doubt he'd be scuttling off to the apothecary in Hogsmeade to sell it post-haste. Judging by Granger's frown, she had drawn the same conclusion. But when he'd lifted a brow at her, she'd shrugged and muttered, "Just leave it. He probably needs the money." Draco had been a bit surprised by that.
He paced as he watched the corridor like a hawk. She'd better not be late. His whole plan hinged on this conversation and he couldn't think of another non-obvious way to get her alone. And he needed to talk to her today so that everything would go into motion properly.
Draco laughed softly to himself at the genius of the thing. Since he wasn't an idiot, he never would have agreed to Theo's wager had he not had an inside track. And what a track it was…
Yesterday after Potions, Granger had suggested they meet in the library to discuss which long form draught they were going to brew for their winter term assignment. Not wanting to be anywhere near the Slytherin common room after the Quidditch tryout results were announced, Draco had arrived early and walked into the middle of a very interesting conversation.
Granger had been sitting with the Weaselette, voice raised in annoyance, so naturally Draco had stopped his normal approach and ducked behind a bookshelf to listen in.
"He fucking broke up with me, that's what happened!" Granger sounded more angry than hurt. "God, I can't believe I didn't do it first. Fucking PRAT."
"What the fuck! Why?"
"He doesn't want us 'distracted during school and auror training'. What utter shite. He wants to play the field, of course! You know what I'm talking about. He and Harry can't go anywhere without slags hanging on them, practically offering to get on their knees for an autograph or a photo."
Damn, Granger. Draco grinned.
"And in the meantime, I'm still walking around with this swot-bookworm reputation. Like I'm frigid and/or Ron's little wifey, off limits because he pissed on me or something. FUCK."
Granger was furious. Draco had to admit, it was a bit of a turn-on.
The Weaselette was making soothing noises, but also agreeing. It couldn't have been easy on her, either. Potter was basically wizard Jesus at this point. Draco congratulated himself—those ministry mandated Muggle Studies classes were really paying off in the analogy department.
Granger was still ranting though. "—And today, a mere two days after we have this 'let's take a break' conversation. After HE breaks up with ME, he shows up in the Prophet with an absolute MILCH COW of a human!"
Draco had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He had seen the photo in question—the weasel and some tart walking out of club late last night—and the girl's tits had been obscenely large. Weasley was so predictable.
"Gods, I wish I could find a way to wipe that stupid smile off his face," Granger snarled. "If you have any ideas for how I can get back at him, please let me know." Draco heard the Weaselette say a laughing goodbye then move off in the opposite direction, so he waited a moment then nonchalantly walked around the corner.
Granger's greeting was cordial, if still a little tense, but they'd managed to spend an uneventful hour together planning their assignment, and she'd even said it was going to be 'good to work with him' before he'd left.
So when Theo cooked up his little game, the pieces of a divinely orchestrated plan had presented themselves and then fallen into place like a beautiful jigsaw.
Draco was not one to pass up such an opportunity.
At that moment he heard footsteps and looked up to see Granger striding down the hall, staring down at a notebook, curls bouncing. He watched her progress from behind a convenient suit of armor as she drew closer. Just as she passed him he whipped out a seeker-quick hand (see, he should have made the fucking team), pulled her into the empty closet and disarmed her
After a little struggle she jammed her foot down hard on his instep and got free. "What the actual FUCK?" She whipped around, "Malfoy, what are you doing?" Her cheeks were stained and she was breathing hard.
Draco of course couldn't respond right away due to the excruciating pain shooting up his inner foot and leg, so he just hopped in place and glared at her for a moment, while she tried the door, then took a deep breath in as if she were about to scream.
"Sticking charm. Silencing charm," he managed to grunt as he bent over to rub his arch. "For fuck's sake, Granger you could have maimed me for life!" He directed a stricken look at her as she crossed her arms and started tapping her foot.
"You got what you deserved. What the hell are you doing grabbing girls out of corridors?"
"Not girls. You," he huffed out. "I have a proposition for you."
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. The stain on her cheeks got darker and Draco couldn't help a massive smirk stealing across his face.
"Not that type of proposition, Granger. Merlin, I'm a little smoother than that."
Her brows drew together ferociously and she actually snarled. "Start explaining, Malfoy, or I'm going to experiment with my wandless magic techniques. And I warn you, previous efforts have not been pretty."
"OK, OK!" He put his hands up. "I have a chance for us to combine forces and make 15,000 galleons."
"I'm not helping you brew black market potions or euphoric draughts, Malfoy. I could use some cash, but not that badly. Also you just barely escaped Azkaban—do you think playing fast and loose with the law is a good idea?" She skewered him with a sharp gaze.
"It's nothing like that. Nothing illegal," he said. "Just hear me out." He outlined the background of the bet, smoothing over the less savory edges of the conversation.
He put up his hands again. "I admit, I overheard a little of your conversation yesterday when I got to the library. I know you want to get back at the Weasel. And we can take advantage of the fact that Theo and Blaise are idiots and forgot to make my not telling you a condition of the bet. So we can collaborate and make it really good. Cinematic, even. And you know the Prophet will love it."
Granger's face had gone from skeptical to outraged (when he got to the eavesdropping bit), to mildly intrigued, and she was now gazing at him with an openly speculative look.
"What are the terms?"
"Six weeks, three public dates. We have to be seen snogging or making out at least twice. We have to offer convincing proof that we've shagged. You have to go to the Winter Ball with me. And we have to make it believable that you've 'fallen' for me so we can get the extra 5k. Theo mentioned you snogging me on the dance floor at the ball as an example."
Draco could practically see the wheels turning in Granger's head as he finished speaking.
She looked up at him finally and nodded. "That sounds reasonable. But we're going to need to plan this, Malfoy. I'm not going in blind or winging it. There's going to be an outline, a timeline and in some cases a script." She ticked the items off on her fingers.
"Fine with me. I like a good plan." Draco said. She gave him an approving glance. "Although," he tapped his chin, "I think just preliminarily we could act a little friendly in potions today—to set the mood."
She nodded again. "OK, yeah. Good idea. And I actually like working with you, so that helps."
Draco felt pleased at this small compliment, which he found alarming.
"Oh." He coughed. "And one more thing. Our 'breakup' at the end." She looked at him questioningly. "You have to do the dumping. I'm not about to add 'broke the golden girl's heart' to my list of transgressions. So you'll have to play the bad guy—or at least spread the story that it was your decision."
She put her chin up. "I actually like that. It will help with my new image. "Broke the hot Slytherin prince's heart."
He felt a half smile tug at the corner of his mouth. So she thought he was hot...
She smiled back and they just gazed at each other for a moment. Then it occurred to Draco that they were standing very close together in a silenced closet. He started and stepped away, giving her wand back and putting out his hand. "Deal?"
"Deal," she confirmed, grasping his palm firmly "Now where should we meet to draw up the plan…?"