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"Wow, I wish I could speak whale."
~Dory
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Waking up to the feeling of someone banging a hammer on your head isn't very pleasant. 

Draco groaned and pressed a palm into his forehead. He was sweaty and extremely disoriented. His eyelids were glued together.

Flashes of the previous night came to him. He remembered meeting Hermione at the park, then how he had gone to a lowly muggle pub and had his fill of muggle whiskey, the woman who had flirted with him….then he had been pulled outside and taken to a group of other women….and Hermione had come along. 

His head have a sudden strong pang of pain, and he groaned again. 

If his mind wasn't showing him a load of codswallop, then, he realised with another pang, he had held Hermione's hand and told her that she was his girlfriend in front of-

"Blaise?" Draco called loudly, and shot upright. Blood Rushed into his head, making it feel heavy and airy at the same time. The room swayed to the right. He realised then that he was on a couch, "Blaise, where the hell are you?"

As if on cue, a paper plane soared into the room from the bedroom. Draco caught it, and unfolded it, shaking his head to be able to read the words clearly.

You were drunk off your arse. Granger brought you here. Stay at home. There's pepper -up and aspirin (it's a muggle thing, it's fucking amazing) in the kitchen for your headache. 

Draco scrunched the note up and rested his throbbing forehead on his hands. He was never getting drunk again…

Had he really said all those things?...They may have been hallucinations….

Draco stood unsteadily and made his way to the kitchen. After trying repeatedly to summon himself the pepper-up potion, he realised that he was waving a pencil around instead of his wand. He tossed the pencil aside. 

Aspirin turned out to be a strip of little white tablets. He popped two of them out, and put them cautiously on his tongue. 

It tasted fucking terrible. 

He spat it out in the sink hastily, and frantically rinsed his mouth to get the taste out. 

Feeling more annoyed than ever, he found the pepper-up potion, downed it, and grabbed a coat that was kept folded messily over the arm of a chair. After looking carefully for his wand for five whole minutes, he realised it was in his trouser's pocket. 

He apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, landing unsteadily.

The coat he had nicked smelt strongly of cigarette smoke, and he wrinkled his nose. Ignoring Tom the Barman as always, Draco stalked down the cobbled street, tripping thrice on the way, but mercifully not falling over.

When he was a few shops away from the apothecary, he veered into a side path. After crossing the backs of the few buildings, he reached the apothecary garden and crossed the fence with a little struggle. 

Hermione was sitting at her usual spot and chopping something up. Her hair was done up in that way that showed the back of her neck and made Draco want to turn it invisible…

Draco plodded through the grass and plants to get to the window. 

She was cutting up Bubotuber pods. Her fingers, which had looked smooth and delicate only a few weeks ago, were now peppered with little cuts and grazes. She worked her blade with appreciable skill, and didn't look anywhere else while she worked. 

Draco shook his head to focus. 

"Granger," he whispered hoarsely, peeking around the window sill. 

Her head jerked up and her eyes widened, then she suddenly looked furious, "What the- what are you doing here?" 

Draco frantically gestured for her to come outside, pointing between Mr. Blak's head that was visible over some shelves and the back door repeatedly. 

Hermione huffed agitatedly and looked over her shoulder. Judging the coast clear, she stood and hurried out the back door. 

"Do you even realise how absolutely-"

"What did you tell him?" Draco cut across her, causing her glare to intensify. Draco grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into the shadow between the wall and Mr. Blak's prized, large maple tree. 

"I told him you were sick," Hermione shook his hand off her shoulder, "That you had been sick since Saturday evening."

Draco nodded, relieved, "Great."

"Great?" She whispered, livid, "Great? Do you even remember what happened yesterday night?"

Draco groaned, "Please, do not frame it that way."

Her cheeks reddened in spite of herself, "Pervert."

"Look, I came here to-" Draco paused, pulling a grotesque expression. He knew he needed to do this, but actually doing it was harder than thinking about doing it. 

Finally, he sighed, and said in a rush, "Icamerdoapolgise."

"What?" Hermione craned her neck forward to hear him better. 

"Merlin," Draco swiped a hand across his face, "I'm apologising."

She straightened her neck, "Alright then, go on."

"I just did," Draco said irritatedly. 

"You didn't actually say it," Hermione crossed her arms and leaned her back against the wall. 

"Fine, I'm sorry, okay?" Draco said exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Why are you so annoying?"

"I told you not to go and…" Hermione said, waving an arm through the air, "You were about to be dragged away by a bunch of- of- sparkly- attractive-"

"Yes, yes, I remember the women," Draco said impatiently. 

"Not to mention that I had to go out in my pyjamas because of you," Hermione went on, beginning to pace in that small area with a look of plain fury on her face, "And you were in muggle London, there were cars, and buses, and you could have been run over - well, it would be a good riddance really, but I would have a guilty conscience because I practically let you go and get drunk."

"I get it, I was a jerk," Draco said, confused at her ramblings, "And...thanks, I guess."

At that, she stopped pacing to look at him, "What did you say?"

"'I guess'?" Draco said, feeling uncomfortable under the gaze of her narrowed eyes.

"Before that," she said.

"I said 'Thanks'," Draco said, surprising both her and himself. 

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, she nodded.

They stood in awkward silence for a while, and Draco looked anywhere except at her. She hadn't brought up the other things he had said, which was a relief. 

"Alright, go home," Hermione said, "And if you have aspirin, you can-"

"No aspirin!" Draco said, shuddering at the memory of the terribly bitter tablet. 

"Why?" The corner's of her mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"Blaise asked me to have it too," Draco explained, "It tastes so disgusting I wouldn't feed it to my worst enemy."

"You're such an idiot," she shook her head, looking amused, "You're supposed to swallow it with water. And don't have more than one at a time or you'll choke."

Feeling incredibly stupid (because of course you were supposed to have it with water, why hadn't he thought of that?), Draco chose to act as if he hadn't heard her. 

"Fine, I'm leaving-"

When he turned to leave, he tripped over an exposed root. Hermione let out a small scream as he staggered and toppled over. Draco's head hit the ground with a thud, worsening his headache. 

"Oh my- wait," she rushed forward to help him up. Mr. Blak was sure to have heard that. 

"Bloody-"

"Malfoy?" 

Draco and Hermione swivelled around to the sound of Mr. Blak's voice, and Draco immediately let go of Hermione's hand that he had taken to help himself up. Hermione muttered something and began walking away to get back inside. 

"Not so fast, Granger, hold it," Mr. Blak said sternly, and Hermione stopped and pursed her lips. 

Draco was rooted to the spot

 He debated running away, but he would probably trip over the fence or something, seeing as how dull his senses and actions still were. 

"I thought he was sick?" Mr. Blak questioned Hermione. 

"He is- was! He was sick," one look at her face told Draco that she was frantically trying to make up something reasonable. She looked at him, silently asking him for help. 

Draco cleared his throat, "Y-yes, I am- was! - sick. I was sick, but now I'm fine so I came to work."

"I didn't see you come in," Mr. Blak narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "How did you reach the garden?"

"Uh…" there was no saving this one. Draco threw a panick-stricken look at Hermione, who looked just as fraught as Draco was feeling. 

Mr. Blak was still eyeing him, and his eyes were narrowed so much they were no more than slits on his face. 

"I came from the other side, because I needed...to get some...I needed to give my robes for...cleaning," Draco finished lamely, and Hermione turned her lips down and raised her eyebrows. She turned away to hide her laughter. 

"Cleaning?" Mr. Blak asked skeptically. 

"Yes," Draco said resignedly. 

After what seemed to be an entire infinity of agonisingly drawn out seconds, Mr. Blak gave an unconvinced grunt and hobbled back inside. 

"Nice save," Hermione said to him in a low voice when they were both inside the work space. 

"Shut it, not a word," Draco hissed back. He took off the coat with the godawful smell and discarded it on the bench. 

"Now you're stuck here," Hermione muttered, glancing at him. She had returned to her Bubotuber pods. 

"Unfortunately," Draco pressed his fingers into his forehead. 

"Wait, I may have something…" Hermione placed her knife down and grabbed her bag. She rummaged around in it, and pulled out a similar strip of aspirin. 

Draco wrinkled his nose, "No."

"You just have to gulp it down," Hermione said, trying to be pacifying but failing. She pulled out a small water bottle from her bag and handed it to Draco. 

Draco took the bottle hesitantly, then accepted the small tablet that was offered to him. 

Without giving himself enough time to change his mind, he tossed the tablet into his mouth and swallowed a whole lot of water. Unfortunately, he gulped so much at a time that he ended up choking. He coughed and sputtered, but was able to breathe again with a quick 'Anapneo' from Hermione. 

"There," she said, satisfied. Draco wiped the water from his mouth and handed the water bottle back to her. 

He grimaced when he caught sight of the filthy cuff of his shirt. He was still in his clothes from the night before, and he hadn't even showered. Now, because of that blasted cost, he also smelt like smoke. 

"Have you been smoki-"

"I don't smoke," Draco snapped, and pulled open the cupboard to rummage in it for an extra apron, "I borrowed Blaise's coat, that's what smells."

"Thank Merlin," Hermione mumbled. Her fingers worked away steadily at the pods full of sticky seeds. 

Draco found an apron and slipped it over his head. It was threadbare and had a strong smell of sulphur to go along with it. 

Draco had never smelt this bad in his entire life. 

"You can brew the Blemish Blitzer," Hermione said over her shoulder, then turned to him with an amused smirk playing on her face, "Guess who ordered it?"

Draco shrugged and raised his eyebrows by a fraction, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" 

"Eloise Midgen and Marietta Edgecombe," Hermione said, beginning to snicker.

Draco couldn't help but laugh at that, "Did they start their own Wizarding line of blemish-removing rubbish?" 

"Actually, they did," Hermione said, stabbing a pod with the tip of her knife, "They have their own line of anti-acne products, including anti-acne perfume and night cream. They're obsessed."

Draco silently chuckled, and began pulling out ingredients for the Blemish Blitzer. 

Hermione returned to her work, but turned around moments later with her wand raised in Draco's direction. 

"What are you doing?" Draco asked cautiously, pressing himself flat against the closed cupboard door. The last situation with her in which he had been in this position hadn't ended well.

"Trying to get rid of that horrid smell," Hermione explained. She performed a few complicated wand movements, and muttered an air freshening charm. Almost instantly, the smell of cigarettes and sulphur vanished, leaving Draco smelling normal again. 

"Thanks," Draco mumbled. 

"I didn't do it for you, I did it for the sake of my olfactory nerves," Hermione said with a teasing lilt to her voice. 

"Whatever," Draco dumped the ingredients onto the desk. With a swish and flick, a cauldron floated over the firepit. He started the fire, then tucked his wand into the side of his trousers for safekeeping. He didn't prefer keeping it in his back pocket because he had heard that few of the most accomplished witches and wizards had suffered having their arses blown off. 

Hermione hummed quietly as they worked. The work area was soon full of fumes from Draco's cauldron, giving the air a thick, misty nature, reminiscent to what one would imagine the air of an enchanted forest to be like. Beads of perspiration dotted Draco's forehead and forearms, and he swiped a thumb across his forehead. His hair grew damp and sticky, and stuck to the nape of his neck annoyingly. 

A quick glance over his shoulder at Hermione showed that she was facing problems of the opposite nature. Her hair was getting bushier by the second, and she kept trying to push back the strands into her bun in vain. Finally, she gave up hope and just let her hair be. 

"Is the Blitzer done?" Mr. Blak asked after break. 

"Malfoy did it," Hermione said. She was currently struggling with her hair again. 

"Malfoy, is it finished?" 

Draco was ladling the potion into small flasks bearing labels saying 'Midgen & Edgecombe', "Yes."

"Good," Mr. Blak said with a grunt, "Take the potion to their establishment. And take the accounts registry to remind them that they still owe the apothecary thirty Galleons. Granger, take the registry, it's on my desk."

Hermione scurried away, and Draco capped the last flask. He placed it in the box and placed the lid over it. 

"Go on, don't dawdle," Mr. Blak hobbled away, running a cloth over his balding head to get rid of the sweat. 

"Malfoy, come on," Hermione called from the front. 

Draco picked up the box carefully and walked through the aisles of shelves to the front door. The bell tinkled when Hermione opened and shut it. 

"Are you sure you can carry that, given how clumsy you have been since morning?" Hermione asked with the register under her arm. 

"Yes, I can," Draco said, walking ahead of her just to show her he wasn't clumsy anymore. But he had thought that too soon, because he tripped over his own shoe not too many steps later. 

Hermione cleared her throat and stifled a laugh, "Sure?"

"Yes, yes, stop making fun of me," Draco said exasperatedly. 

"That's rich coming from you," Hermione said, shoving his ribs gently with her elbow. 

Surprised at the unexpected contact, Draco took a moment to answer, "Right."