Taboo

The holiday break flew by, and soon it was New Year's Eve. The Weasleys and Harry sat in front of the fire in their living room, making toasts.

"To a bright and prosperous new year!" declared Mr. Weasley. Everyone cheered and drained their glasses. Harry took a small sip, not liking the sickly sweet smell of the champagne. Several more toasts were made, and by one o'clock in the morning, most people felt a little tipsy.

"One last toast!" said Mr. Weasley enthusiastically. "This one's to--to--"

"To finding true love!" shouted Ron from his armchair. Harry gave him a strange look but also raised his glass.

"Yes, well said, Ron! To true love!" Everyone echoed them and drained their glasses once more.

"Ron? What was that all about?" Harry had turned to Ron, only to find that he'd fallen asleep, snoring loudly with his mouth open. Sighing, he prodded Ron awake and helped him up the stairs. Ron instantly fell asleep again once his head hit the pillow.

Harry changed into pajamas and crawled into his own bed. Having only had one glass of champagne, he was relatively sober. He lay there in the dark listening to Ron's rhythmic snoring. He wondered what Hermione and Malfoy were doing, if they were together. It took a great deal of self-restraint no to dig out the Marauder's Map from his trunk. Soon, his eyelids drooped and felt very heavy. In minutes, he too had slipped into a deep sleep.

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"Happy New Year!" said Malfoy, throwing a handful of confetti into the air and watching it float down into the pool. He and Hermione were sitting in the prefect's bathroom, sharing a candlelit meal at midnight.

Hermione sat at the edge of the bath, letting her feet hang over the edge into the bubbles.

"Champagne?" offered Malfoy, handing her a glass.

"Let's make a toast," said Hermione, raising up her glass.

"To us," said Malfoy. "Forever."

"To us," repeated Hermione. "Always."

They both drained their glasses. Malfoy lowered himself into the water and pulled Hermione under. He kissed her after she surfaced for air, tasting the sweet stickiness of the champagne on her lips. He watched their reflection in the large mirrors on the walls, candles flickering around the edge of the pool. They floated on their backs and scooped up bubbles, dumping them onto each other's faces.

"Ha ha, look," said Malfoy, making a beard out of the bubbles. "I'm Professor Dumbledore."

"And I'm you," said Hermione, slicking back her hair and imitating his signature smirk.

"Very funny." He did an impression of Hermione jumping up and down with her hand in the air. "Oh, pick me, Professor!" he said in a squeaky voice. "I know all sixty-two ingredients that go into a Hiccupping Potion! In alphabetical order!"

"When did I say that?" said Hermione, giggling.

"Never." Malfoy grinned. He put his fingers around his eyes to form glasses. "Guess who I am now..." He puffed up his chest and said in a deep voice, "I'm noble and important and I'm going to save you all from You-Know-Who."

"Ha ha," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"And my best friend is Weasel King," continued Malfoy, now humming "Weasley Is Our King."

Hermione swam to the edge of the pool and grabbed the almost-full champagne bottle.

"Let's get drunk," she said, eyes flashing wickedly as she took a swig straight from the bottle.

"Good idea," said Malfoy, opening another of the three bottles and taking a large gulp. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Ahh..."

By the time the third bottle was empty, they were both extremely tipsy.

"Know what Harry called you when we were arguing?" slurred Hermione.

"What?"

"Drakie-poo!" She burst out in peals of uncontrollable laughter.

"And what are you?"

"Hermykins!" She accidentally swallowed a mouthful of water, coughing.

"CTR!" yelled Malfoy. "Or CBR! Whatever Muggles call it!" He swam over to her and kissed her sloppily. "Breathe, breathe!" This only served to make her laugh harder. She darted away from him.

"Catch me if you can!" Giggling, she dove underwater. When she came up again, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. "Draco?" With a splash, he popped up from behind her.

"Gotcha!" he shouted, tackling her as she squealed. He held her close as she struggled against his arms. After a few seconds, she stopped squirming and clung onto him.

"I'm sleepy," she said, tracing a finger over his bare chest.

"Let's have a sleepover," suggested Malfoy, pressing his lips against her wet hair. "You can come over to my place."

"Okaaay..." He released her and they retrieved their clothes, which had, er, mysteriously drifted to the sides of the pool. They put on their bathrobes and stumbled into the hall, still dripping wet. Clutching each other for support, they wobbled towards the Slytherin common room.

"Oh, look, a kitty cat," said Hermione, pointing to Mrs. Norris as they approached the dungeons. "Here, kitty." Mrs. Norris stared at them with bulbous yellow eyes.

"Meow," said Malfoy, causing them both to burst out laughing. The cat slunk away quietly as Malfoy gave the password and helped Hermione into the common room.

They climbed up to the empty boys' dormitory and collapsed on Malfoy's four-poster bed. They shed their wet clothes and snuggled under the covers, shivering a little.

"Are you cold?"

"Not with you here to keep me warm."

She traced the veins on his forearm with her fingers. "I wish time would freeze so we could stay like this forever," she said wistfully.

"Forever is a long time," he said, nuzzling her shoulder. "You might get sick of me."

She moaned softly as he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. He gently nudged her knees apart, waiting for her to protest, but she didn't'. Slowly and carefully, he eased himself into her. He heard her gasp and felt her hands tighten on his shoulders.

A small voice in the back of Hermione's head kept saying, Don't do this, it's wrong, but she shook her head and ignored it, wincing as she felt the pain. Her back arched and she gripped him tighter, their movements now synchronized. She didn't want to think about right and wrong anymore. She sighed and blissfully let the lust overpower her mind.

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The next morning, Hermione woke up feeling sore all over. Her head throbbed and the bright sunlight streaming in from the window only made it worse. Squinting, she looked around the unfamiliar room. Peering downward, she saw Malfoy sleeping peacefully next to her, his arm thrown casually over her stomach, the sheets barely covering his naked body. She slowly put all the pieces together, her brain not quite functioning fully. She was not in her own bed, Malfoy was sleeping next to her, and neither of them was wearing anything. That could only mean one thing...

"Ugh, too much champagne," groaned Malfoy, shifting so that the sheet that was covering him fell dangerously lower.

"What happened last night?" demanded Hermione, folding her arms across her chest.

"You hogged all the blankets," said Malfoy accusingly, tugging on the sheets. "My toes are freezing."

"No, I mean, why am I here in your bed?"

"You don't remember?" said Malfoy, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"No, I don't remember. The last thing I recall is the champagne and the candles... Oh, the champagne..." Realization suddenly dawned upon her.

"I think three bottles was a bit much," said Malfoy, yawning. "But it was your idea to get drunk."

"We didn't...you know...did we?" she asked tentatively. Malfoy pointed to the heap of clothes on the floor.

"Contrary to the belief, I don't normally sleep like this." He sat up and stretched, his pale blond hair sticking up in the back. "I have a colossal headache. You?"

"Oh my God," said Hermione, putting her hands over her face. "I can't believe this. Was I really that drunk? This is just so..."

"Horrifying? Repulsive?" suggested Malfoy, filling in the blank. "But hey, the way I see it, you had to lose your virginity eventually."

"No, it's not that. This is just so...unlike me." She played with the blankets in her lap. "The old me would have never done it."

"You might have," said Malfoy. "You just didn't have the opportunity. But honestly, how was it? Do I get an 'E' for 'Exceeds Expectations'? Or was it 'T' for 'Troll'? I hope it's not a 'T'..."

"God, Draco!" She gave him a half exasperated, half playful shove.

"No, really, I'm curious. Don't spare my feelings."

"I'm not saying," she declared resolutely.

"Okay, okay, I don't have feelings. I'm an evil git. Evil gits don't have feelings. Will you tell me now?"

Hermione sighed. "Fine. You get an 'A.'"

"What? Only an 'A'?" said Malfoy, feigning resentfulness.

"A double 'A.'"

"Double 'A'? What's that?" he asked, frowning.

"Absolutely amazing," she answered. Malfoy grinned. "Ugh, don't make that face," she said, grimacing.

"I'm not making a face," he said defensively. "I'm happy. You just told me what every man wants to hear."

"Well, it makes you look evil. And creepy. You don't usually smile like that."

"Well, I'm not usually told that I'm absolutely amazing. Not that I need to be told," he added. "I already know it. But it's nice to hear it from someone else." Hermione snorted.

"You are so full of yourself," she said, rolling her eyes.

"That's what makes me so lovable." He gave her a sly glance. "I thought you said you didn't remember what happened last night."

"I do remember--now. But I'm trying not to."

"Why not?"

"Because don't you realize how much this complicates things? I have to tell Ron the truth someday. And this, well, this is unforgivable." She looked at him. "We can never go back."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," she said firmly. He scrutinized her face for any signs of a lie, but all he could see was the piercing determination in her brown eyes. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Harry or Ron or anyone else. I don't know if I can. All I know is that I want to be with you. Forever."