This has been rattling around on DA for a while, and now MUST be migrated here. Enjoy!
How to Survive Draco Malfoy
Part one: Sod It All With a Wrackspurted Dung Beetle
"Sod it all with a wrakspurted dung beetle!" I jumped up and down, clutching my foot desperately, trying to smooth out the feeling that someone had impaled me under my toenails. The explicative was learned from Ron and used to great effect. I sat down in the middle of the hall, papers previously tucked into my hand crinkling under me as I peeled off a sock to examine the toenails to find the blood blister where my toenail had bent. The hall was almost deserted, a witch hurrying away as I continued to mutter dire threats under my breath. I finally got a hold on the pain well enough to survey around me and groaned as I realized that my work for the morning was spread out in a fan where it had tumbled from my arms. I glared at the offending floorboard as it mocked me, standing innocently cockeyed, an inch off kilter. Here I am, sitting in the middle of the most important magical hub in England, in a branch that they can't bother to even out the floorboards.
"Bad day, Granger?" Faux sympathy rolled off of his tounge easily as he waited for me to gather my things. Naturally, he didn't offer a hand. Having reached my limit, after the coffee machine being broken and my boss being completely bollocks, I took my pointy shoe that had caught on said floorboard and stabbed it into his foot. Not near bad enough to draw blood or anything of the sort, but hard enough to bruise even through expensive leather shoes and ultimately, very satisfying. He automatically doubled over, clutching at his now throbbing foot. "Holy flaming merlin's balls, woman!"
"Piss off, you wanker. I am not in the mood today." He really should have known better to torment me while I was stressed and he was within range. I had punched him third year, you'd think that'd give him a lesson. If while taunting, the wildly repressed Granger is exhibiting signs of frustration, be sure to keep out of range. Be doubly sure to be capable of legging it out of there as soon as possible, so as to avoid subsequent damage to progenating manly bits. I retrieved my shoe and put it back on, wincing as my foot began to throb. I began to gather the papers that fell to the ground. He blew out a snorting noise of annoyance and flicked his fingers to the creases of his pressed trousers, so he could crouch down next to me. To say I was shocked would vastly undervalue my surprise. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" He started picking up my papers, and arranging them into neat stacks. I seethed as he peeked over his shoulder to give me a patronizing look. "And you came first in our year? I'm getting the mess you made out of the middle of the hall."
My mouth opened and closed a few times, and I fixed him with a homicidal look that was passed down from Granger woman to Granger woman from many generations back. Grandmum had a gimlet eye that gave Molly Weasley a run for her money. Naturally, he ignored it and continued stacking my papers as if he couldn't feel my thoughts begging to rend him limb from limb. It was a bad day alright. While I was still gaping like a fish out of water, he shoved the stack of paper into my arms.
"Thank you very much, I am now going to be twenty minutes late instead of just ten, because I now have to get something for my foot." He fixed me with his own silver eyes and they pinned me to the wall far better than mine probably would ever work on anyone. They were angry, but I could still see something on the sides of them, exhaustion. He looked even more tired than me.
He limped outrageously to the end of the corridor, dragging his foot like he was lame, but as soon as he turned the corner, I could hear his footsteps turn brisk and normal. He always was a ridiculous faker. When I finally eased into my desk, my secretary, the old Ravenclaw Penelope Clearwater, who used to date Percy, dropped a small potion next to my elbow with a big grin.
"Big, tall fellow we knew from Hogwarts, you know, the loud, obnoxious one, dropped this off for you a bit ago, said you might be needing it. He made some extra for his foot and said it seemed as though you would need it as much as he did." I stared at it in awe, and more than a little trepidation. He couldn't have dropped it off, could he? And if he did, was it safe to drink? Then again, he did help me pick up my papers, and he wasn't still a teenager. We were both mature, confident adults and could deal with this in a mature, confident way.
"Could you um, taste it for me so I know if it tastes like manky laundry and I need to get something to drink afterwards or not?" Penelope gave me an odd look, but seeing as she loved working for me and I knew it, I knew she could handle an eclectic request or two. She took a sip and swished it around in her mouth a bit before swallowing.
"Tastes a bit like peppermint." Perhaps it was from being the child of two dentists, but I adored peppermint. She gave me another odd look and then wandered back to her desk to continue working. I watched her for well over an hour as I started to repair the damage done by my spill. After that hour was up, my toe felt no better, and my secretary showed no signs of ill effects, I braved the potion. Oh blessed relief at last! The throbbing retreated instantly to a dull ache, and I felt my shoe loosen and the swelling went down. Fine, maybe Malfoy had grown up a bit at last, but I still wasn't taking any chances.