She had been depressed since the beginning of class – it was a rather down casting sight.
Draco couldn't wrap his mind around it nor did he have much else in his thoughts but the witch's look of anguish. Did most do this because he can't recall anyone in Slytherin performing such a charade. Why something so simple (or at least in his mind) could cause an individual to spiral into a cataclysm of depression, he would never know. It was unfathomable – preposterous. Ludicrous! Weird. A bit frightening, actually. Or was it saddening? A mix? Maybe she was on "lady time" (and Lord knew how scary Pansy was during those). Whatever it may be, the blonde was beginning to find too much pity and confusion ebbing his way in. She was his girlfriend after all. Weren't regular boys supposed to give them chocolate? His mother would be so ashamed. . .
Hermione merely continued her morphing of pained expressions as if she had just been hit by a nasty jinx. The paper in her hands, slashed with red marks right to left was being crumpled with every passing second and Malfoy took his time to intervene. Carefully lifting himself off his own chair and making his way to her desk (thankfully Potter and Weasely had ditched), the fifth year pulled back the seat beside her and sat. So far, he was safe.
His next words had all but nailed his own coffin shut. "Granger, must you cry over a failed paper?"
The brunette jolted as if she had just realized she was still in class, still in public and oh, still breathing. Her eyes glanced up to meet his and as the words registered, so did the fury growing and dilating her pupils. He found himself actually inching back but the stubborn pride would refuse to let him move.
"Yes," Hermione all but snarled. "It is. It really is Malfoy and if you'd mind terribly," She was beginning to reach for her books. "I would appreciate you leaving me the hell alone."
Draco blinked. Once – twice. His hand had slapped down on the book instinctively but his eyes were still on her, surprise etched all over. "You haven't answered the question."
The witch was beginning to radiate her anger and her fingers were already twitching towards the wand delicately hidden in her cloak. Half the students had already left the room seeing as class had been dismissed and nobody seemed to want to intervene between the couple – or more so, dared to. "This was important! Don't you understand? I might fail the class and," She picked up the book, smashing his fingers with it every other word. "it's – all – your – fault!"
Every hidden context with that statement clicked in all of two seconds.
The blonde tried to hide his smug satisfaction, really, he tried. But the grin was on his face before he could wipe it off and Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. She stormed out on him before his could control his groans of pain, for she had thrown the textbook straight in his groin.
He didn't intervene with her studying night hours after that.
a/n: this was written for nellchan who was having a very off day. seeing as I can't write for any of her other parings because I'm not familiar with them, I thought this would be the best choice. of course this isn't what I think of your situation darling, but I thought it would make you laugh. Just pretend that you are throwing a book at #5's groin and maybe you'll feel just a tad better. if not, just pretend you are in San Francisco surrounded by lovely people and lack of family – except for maybe me – and seven millions dogs.