"And then..." the suave and rather bored voice sighed, almost as if it was no longer interested in anything it's counterpart had to say.
"What do you mean, and then, Draco? He dumped me, we can be together now," a girl screeched, staring Draco - the owner of the suave and bored voice - in the eyes, almost pleadingly.
"Look, Tiffany, we had a nice night, but unfortunately for you, I don't fuck the school slut, sorry baby," Draco smirked ever so softly, reaching up to run his hand down her cheek. She shied away from it, tears forming ever so slowly in her eyes. He just smirked that ever present smirk before pushing away from the wall he was currently leaning on.
"Draco..." she sobbed, but he just shook his head and walked away, leaving the broken girl to fall to the ground in tears, with frame-shaking sobs.
"Crabbe, Goyle," he called out to his ever loyal cronies, "I'm tired, fetch me some lunch, and don't you even think about tasting it."
"Yes, boss," the boys, rather resembling Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, cheered, before waddling off towards the great hall, where everybody else in the school body was currently enjoying the finest foods Hogwarts had to offer.
Carefully and rather skilfully, Draco twisted the handle residing behind him and slipped into the previously locked Library. Closing the door softly, he made his way to the far corner towards the back of the library; he placed his derrière on the comfortable plush seats before he sighed, rather contentedly. Closing his eyes, he sunk deeper into the seat and took a rather large breath in, relishing the smell the library was giving off.
"You shouldn't be here," snapped a rather familiar voice, it was one he hadn't heard in a while, but still familiar. Draco's eyes snapped open quickly, and he regained his composure rather quickly yet awkwardly. Someone had caught him off guard, and he was not entirely comfortable with it. Whether it was because it had never happened in his life, or just because of whom it was, no matter which, he was not happy.
"Neither should you..." he paused as he looked over at the lonely figure standing in the parseageway, "...Granger!"
"I have permission to be in here, Mr. Malfoy, you, however, do not," Hermione growled, rather unlike herself.
"Why so high and mighty, Mudblood?" Draco sighed, smirking as he sat back in his chair.
"Not used to someone out shining you, Malfoy? Don't like it?" Hermione questioned sternly, almost with a hint of joy in her voice. She really was acting out of character; it was throwing him off course.
"No, Granger, don't think this year is going to be easy," he grumbled, standing up instantly and coarsely making his way over to her.
"For being in a restricted area after hours, Mr. Malfoy, you will receive a detention to be held on Saturday at precisely eleven in the morning, and one hundred points from Slytherin," Hermione stated officially, writing it onto a piece of parchment. The ink poured out of her quill, sunk into the parchment, disappearing as each new letter wound its way onto and then into the parchment.
"But, Granger, the big game between Slytherin and Gryffindor is on Saturday..." Draco smiled softly, now standing in front of her. He was about a foot taller than her; therefore she only reached his chest.
"I do not personally care, Mr. Malfoy, as Head Girl, my word is law among the students and you will turn up to your detention, or I will see to it that you will receive a much more severe punishment for your neglect of authority," Hermione snapped, before nodding at him politely and stepping aside, giving him the not so subtle hint that it was time for him to vamoose from the Library.
"You're a bitch, you know that, Granger?" he snapped, storming rather unsophisticatedly parseed her and out the exit doors of the library.
"I have been told," she whispered, smiling to herself as she left the library quietly.
It was the greatest day on earth outside as the "Golden Trio" sat sadly in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had seated himself in an armchair away from the window and closer to the fire, Ron was seated on the floor playing a round of chess to himself, simply because Harry had given up playing with him, after losing nine games, he no longer had any interest.
Hermione had seated herself across from Harry and behind Ron as she dove deeper and deeper into the realm of her imagination.
"Hermione, give me something to do," Harry whined out of the blue, turning his head to face her.
"How about you attend to your homework, Harry, considering its due into clarse tomorrow," she smiled, looking him in the eye before looking back out the window next to Harry, falling deep into a reverie that she hoped she was never to shake from.
Her meeting with Malfoy was on her mind. Why had he chosen the library to relax, of all places? Why on earth had he sighed as if he hoped for something more or better in his life? Her thoughts were swimming uncontrollably and she was going to end up shooting someone if she didn't find out what made the irate Slytherin King so frustrated.
What got her mind utterly scrambled was how she had reacted to his fracture of the rules. She had an answer for every possible come back he may have had, ready in her head. She had been so calm, not even faltering to think of his punishment, it poured out of her mouth like one of Ron's notorious word vomits. She, Hermione Granger, had stumped the infamous Malfoy, and in a simple term, gotten up his nose.
"Hermione?" someone whispered beside her as she sighed, twitching a little as her reverie was broken and she came crashing down into the real world, all thoughts of her attitude and Malfoy lost.
"Hmm?" she smiled, turning to face whoever it was that was asking for her attention. It was Neville. "How can I help you, Neville?"
"Well, Uh..." he fidgeted slightly, wringing his hands to the point of where it looked like there was no blood in his fingers.
"Are you all right, Neville?" Hermione smiled, placing her hands gently onto his, to calm him and to also stop him from tearing at his fingers, it was distracting.
"Hermione, I was just thinking..." he paused again, looking every which way, but at her.
"Yes?"
"I need some help with my herbology homework," Neville finally managed to spit out.
"Oh, Neville," she snapped, glaring at him. "You know I will never do somebody else's homework."
"No!" Neville exclaimed, catching the attention of the few people floating about the common room.
"Neville?" Hermione gasped, staring at the normally quiet boy.
"Hermione, I need your help, I have to write a five foot essay on..." Neville paused as Hermione started to smile.
"The Fantendagio Ecryptalgium Smoosast fungi," Hermione smiled as Neville nodded and laughed nervously.
"Yes, that's it," he cheered.
"Of course I'll help you Neville, I need to find some more information for my essay, I'm afraid I may have missed something," Hermione laughed before hearing the scoff from Ron on the floor.
"Missed something, Hermione, please, you've got an eight foot essay all ready, and you think you've missed something," Ron just continued to scoff as Hermione flushed with embarrarsement and anger.
"For your information, Ronald, it's not eight, it's only six, but I wouldn't expect you to know that, you didn't even attempt yours," Hermione had tried to insult him, but she was never tactful when it came to things like that, especially when she was upset.
"Hermione..." Neville stuttered.
"Neville, I believe there is some Fantendagio Ecryptalgium Smoosast in the fountain in the school grounds," Hermione snapped, not directing it at Neville, but he showed signs that he thought it was. "Let me grab my umbrella, and we'll head off."
Neville nodded and sighed when she came back as she clearly didn't give him enough time to agree when she had stormed off in the first place. Now she was storming off towards the soppy grounds, completely ignoring Neville's pleas to do it another day.
"No, Neville, the Fantendagio Ecryptalgium Smoosast only comes out with rain, and it's the perfect time to learn, get with it," she snapped, again, much unlike herself as she stormed out the school doors and down the sloping lawn to the fountain separating the meeting of four paths.
Neville stood and listened as Hermione listed off points that he could write about as she angrily surveyed the fountain, sometimes with disgust, sometimes with an awfully creepy fascination. She would literally get so close to the fungi it looked like she was trying to smell it, or worse, eat it.
"Are you really that desperate, Granger, are you really that hungry?" a snapping voice made it self known from the direction of the school.
"Neville..." Hermione whispered to the frozen boy beside her, "Neville is that who I think it is?"
"Malfoy," Neville mumbled, shaking furiously.
"Now, now, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione sighed regaining her composure, "We do not want to hand out another detention for verbal arseault, I mean, you wouldn't want to miss the game all together."
"You're enjoying your duties a little too much, in my personal opinion," he smirked, causing Neville to go completely frigid with fear and Hermione's fist to clench and unclench in anger.
"Nobody asked for you're opinion, you snivelling ferret," she growled. Using that insult again after so long was rather unusual, but it seemed to have taken the effect she was after as she watched the smug smirk slip off of his face, and glares replace it.
"It seems to me..." Malfoy started.
"Why must you keep talking, Malfoy, no body here really wants to listen to you blow yourself," Hermione snapped loudly, shocking herself as she gaped and looked at her hands. She had had no idea where that came from, but it was the first thing that had popped into her head, so she had said it.
"Now, now, Granger, saying things like that could be clarseed as sexual arseault, and god knows you would not want the whole school to know that you wanted to..." he had paused, knowing that he didn't need to finish, the desired effects that his words were bound to have, had began to appear on both Hermione's and Neville's faces.
"Listen here," Hermione stated drawing herself up to his size, "I am Hermione Granger, I am head girl here at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. You, Mr. Draco Malfoy, are nothing but a bug that I accidentally stepped on, on my way into the school. Be careful what you say and who you say it too while you are inside these grounds, because before you can say the words 'Pumpkin Pasties', I will have your arse thrown in so many detentions it will make you're head spin."
He could not even twitch once Hermione had taken a step back and began to breathe again. He was stunned and unsure as to whether this really could be the weedy little Mudblood that he had first seen on the steps leading to the great hall. That weedy Mudblood had to psyche herself up just to sit on a stool with a hat on her head.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, make your way back to your dorm, before I decide to give you an all day detention on Saturday," Hermione snapped as Malfoy just shook his head and jogged it back up to the school.
"Hermione..." Neville managed to squeak out as Hermione began smiling to herself.
"Neville, I think I need to go lay down, you'll be fine out here by yourself, won't you?" she didn't wait for an answer as she slowly made her way back into the school and up to the oversized portrait of 'The Fat Lady', smiling from ear to ear. She had never felt so liberated, so lively, she, Hermione Granger, had stood up to someone that had made her and her friends so frustrated, and he had been noticeably surprised.
But again, that niggling feeling was back. She had not been herself, let alone acted like herself. She had yet again said the first thing that came to mind, and once again, did not falter when voicing it. What on earth was going on?
Sighing again she made her way up into the common room and up the stairs to her dorm. It wasn't until she reached the door that she heard shouts of her name coming from the bottom of the stairs she had absentmindedly climbed.
"Yes?" she cheered as she jogged her way down the stairs to find Ron and Harry looking very guilty.
"We're sorry, 'Mione," Ron choked out with a rather painful nudge from Harry.
"Its fine, Ron," she smiled, shocking the red head so that he turned a rather sickly pale colour.
"Are you all right, Hermione? You seem rather happy for someone who was just out in the rain," Harry noted, staring curiously at the far off look in her eyes.
"Fine, Harry dear, just fine," she sighed girlishly, reaching both her hands out and messing up the hair on the heads of her companions. Turning around; she headed back up the stairs, not even taking note that their conversation hadn't finished yet.
"So, what did Malfoy want with you?" a rather snappy voice growled from inside the room somewhere as she stepped inside. Looking around she noticed a rather disgruntled Ginny sitting on Hermione's bed.
"Ginny, you would not believe what I just did, even if I told you," Hermione smiled. She was acting much unlike herself and Ginny didn't miss a heartbeat off it. Ginny knew her best friend and this was not like her at all.
"What did Malfoy want with you, Hermione?' Ginny snapped, causing the smile on Hermione's face to slip away.
"Why would he want something from me, Gin?" she asked, rather confused and showing it.
"I watched you and Neville leave the school and head for the fountain, but before I went to walk away from the window, I watched him step out of the school, by himself," Ginny stated, standing up and placing a hand on each of her own hips.
"Why would that ensue that he was after me? He could have been going for a walk, Gin," Hermione reasoned, taking the seat that Ginny had vacated on the bed.
"If he didn't want you, 'Mione, why did he look around first and then follow you?" Ginny questioned, staring Hermione in the face, seeing that questioning look fall in place of her previously happy look.
"I'm not sure, Gin, honestly, I do not know," she sighed, the happiness about her shocking Malfoy disappearing.
Meanwhile on the other side of the castle, and down several floors, Draco was sighing dramatically as he flopped around on his bed. He was trying to get some sleep so that he was wide awake by morning, but for some strange and terrible reason, Hermione Granger was on his mind.
How had she suddenly changed from the shy buffoon that he had met in first year, to a fiery, understated, snappy bitch? How was she able to say a few simple things and get so far up his nose she could pop out of his arse? The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he got, but he couldn't help himself.
He hadn't seen her in any different light when they were in their first year, but when news spread that she and her horrendous friends fought a three headed dog, he started to think differently. Of all things she could've done, she'd done that, and even he had to admit, he wouldn't have done it, even if he was forced to.
Draco wasn't sure how he knew all this about her, about her years at Hogwarts, but the more he thought about it…her, the more he found he knew. For example, in their second year, when all the mishaps were happening, he managed to work out that it was only half bloods that were being hurt. He thought back to the snarky remark he had made when everybody had gathered. 'You'll be next, Mudbloods'. Why had he said it? To be smart? To be the centre of attention? Or, to warn one certain half blood in the school of the dangers she'd face?
He had figured out in his third year that it may have been a courteous gesture on his part, but only after she had slapped him. When he saw the fury in her facial features, he realised that she could possibly be someone he might not make a fuss about spending time with.
In her fourth year had she not tried to help Pothead with his trials? Had she not offered help to Victor Krum, when he had faced the trials? After all, Krum had chosen her as his most sacred object, had he not?
Her fifth year, seemed to be a little more memorable for him, he was not sure why, however. His father had relayed the message of what had happened at the ministry, and he did not hear the end of it, and still wasn't. Hermione... and her friends had fought for their life, not once surrendering to the awe-inspiring efforts of the death-eaters. Spells were thrown every which way, and they…she still did not fear for herself.
"Yo, Draco?" a rather slender voice purred from the doorway to his bedroom.
"What now, Pansy?" he sighed, hoping his snappy reply would discourage her.
"Dude, you really think she'd come back after you threw her into the common room…naked?" the gruff voice of Blaise Zabini chuckled as he leaped onto the bed beside Draco's.
"What do you want, Blaise?" he snapped, staring the auburn haired man in the eye.
"Just seeing what's got you all…pensive," Blaise sighed, getting up of the bed quickly, knowing his best friend all to well. "S'later, man."
Draco sighed, staring away from the door to the silk drapes over top his head. Had he really just thought about the five years of Granger?