AN: I know I'm supposed to updating my other stories but I had this in my head and wanted to have some fun. Read, enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: *looks above me* Nope no Pottermore sign, seems I'm not JKR after all…

"What number is she?" Blaise mouthed, indicating at the stunning blond sitting next to me from across the table. I simply smirked back at him, "More than you've ever had." In a way I wasn't lying. I had pretty much caught Zabini up in number of girls I had bedded, and it was a figure I was proud of. What guy wouldn't want to inflate his already large, uhm, ego? Grazing over the model next to me, I had no doubts that I would enjoy tonight's date. I couldn't tear my eyes from the teasing slit in her dress that reached up to her waist, which conveniently, was parallel to her plunged neckline. I licked my lips in anticipation and Blaise laughed at my impatience, yet he too was openly appraising the beauty next to me. While I knew he probably did appreciate her, it was probably to make the angry looking brunette next to him jealous. I couldn't blame him; I would do the exact same thing.

The next day, while comparing who had the best night (it was purely about ego, we weren't gushing like girls over the details of the night) we took an outing to the bed store in Diagon Alley. Embedded claimed all their beds were embedded with Dreamless Sleep Potion for a good night's sleep, but I don't think sleeping was the first priority for either of us last night. And some types of dreams are pretty good, if you know what I mean.

Blaise had been, to put it in a polite way, slightly enthusiastic with his fiery brunette and now needed a replacement bed. It was clear who won the competition of who had the best night (though my ego would like to point out that it was a one off and that I will win next time). Therefore, I hadn't been particularly impressed when he dragged me out to celebrate his victory by buying a new bed. To compensate, I ignored everything he said and instead thought about the various ways last night could have gone on the different beds here. It was a pretty satisfying exercise, only ending when Blaise said he would repeat a minute by minute account of his last night, and there was no way I was letting him do that.

"You know what mate? I think I've found a keeper." Blaise randomly commented. A Keeper? Sure, Blaise enjoyed Quidditch, but he didn't play it anymore.

"What are you going on about? Have you suddenly decided to create a Quidditch team? Why wasn't I informed?" Blaise gave me a funny look at the last comment, but I had every right to say that, I was the best Seeker around. Potter didn't count; the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, Scarhead. He had enough titles as it was, he didn't need the title of the Best Seeker. I could look after that for him.

"Draco, am I that much of a playboy that you think I'm referring to Quidditch when I'm talking about a girl. That girl from last night, Bethany, I think I want to keep her." It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing out loud. It was only Blaise's serious tone that was stopping me. The Slytherin Playboy, worse than myself, was saying he wanted to settle down with one girl. I couldn't stop my chuckles escaping.

"The day you settle down with one girl, I'll buy you a new bed. We can spend as long as you like bed shopping then. I'm not wasting any more of my time here when I could be pulling a chick." I laughed at my own joke and turned to leave the store, still shaking my head in disbelief, "Settle down indeed..."

I really did need to find a date for tonight's event. It was a dinner for Healers, and in memory of my godfather, I had opened a potions store which was currently one of St Mungo's biggest suppliers. Hopefully one of those Healers would be up to healing me after the dinner.

"You're on Malfoy. The man who finds a girl they will be willing to take twice will receive a bed courtesy of the other." I stared at him incredulously. Was he really willing to forsake our vow of never sleeping with the same girl twice all for the sake of a bed? Well I would never back down.

"Let's shake on it. May the best man win." I smirked arrogantly at him. There was no way I was going to lose.

"Well I'll be winning a girl and a bed, what's there to lose?" He smirked back at me as if he had won already. But that wasn't the real prize. The real prize was choice between all those lovely girls, and if Zabini wasn't going to take his share then I wasn't complaining.

Three days later and I couldn't bite back my words fast enough. Granger was hot. Not to mention how she looked in that cute little nurses outfit I transfigured for her. Maybe it wasn't the best move of the night, but it certainly got her mad, and a mad Granger was even hotter than her usual self. Why did she deprive men like me of her?

She was still a prude, but that didn't mean she wasn't the best date I'd ever had. I was turned on just by hearing her talking about a new development for potion that would cure hundreds of people. And I'm sure I wasn't the only one. It was unlike me to fall for a girl who covered up her body, but Granger was definitely an exception. Her floor length black dress screamed sophisticated rather than slutty and accentuated her feminine figure nicely. I surprised myself by thinking that I would prefer this sort of dress over any revealing one if only Hermione was in it (though I wouldn't complain about her being out of it, if you know what I mean).

I surprised myself even more when I asked her out for a date. A real actual date. And if it meant I got to talk to her more, then I didn't even mind not having with sex with her. Well I did mind, but the second date made up for it. It was incredible. It went perfectly, the only hitch was when I asked her to come back to mine to 'help administer a potion'. Apparently she didn't expect me to 'attack her abruptly against a wall' as soon as we got in under the pretence of a 'business date'. I told her I implied nothing of the sort and proceeded to continue kissing her until she tore my shirt off. Thinking a change of clothes was in order, I transfigured hers, thinking we could go back to the pretext she came here under, but apparently she preferred her more modest ensemble that she was wearing when she came. The threats she gave are far too frightening to recall. I vaguely remember her tackling me to the floor, which I took as an invitation to turn her over and take her on the floor, but according to Hermione, was her way of trying to tell me off. Then she sprouted a load of psychology crap about how men always interpret signals wrong, to which I showed her exactly how wrong I was thinking. I don't think she complained after that.

It was only when Hermione was lying asleep on my bed, bronze hair splaying out over the pillow, did I remember Blaise's bet. Considering I definitely had the intentions of asking Hermione to stay again, he owed me a new bed.