It was the warmest September Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had seen for decades. In the vast grounds surrounding Hogwarts, the infamous Womping Willow wilted tiredly in the relentless sunlight and the giant squid, which lived in Hogwarts' lake, had not been seen since the school returned from their summer holiday a week beforehand, apparently preferring to stay below the surface of the cool water. Students stumbled from class to class, bleary eyed and drowsy from the heat, only to reach their destination, take their seat and gratefully fall asleep all over again. Some of the less efficient teachers on the Hogwarts staff, too, found themselves dropping off mid-lesson, much to the groggy delight of everyone present except, it would seem, Hermione Granger.
Despite all this, Draco Malfoy was irritable. Although this was a well known fact around Hogwarts – and, no doubt, the world – lately he was even more irritable than usual. For a whole week (that's seven entire days and nights) he hadn't slept at all. His friends all told him that he was exaggerating, that he must be falling asleep at some point during the night without realising it, but if this was true then he certainly wasn't feeling the benefit of it. He was unsure how his body was even still functioning. He snapped in response to everything he was asked, his temper now so short that it even made him wince, and he had no energy left, not even enough to lift his head from the desk in class, never mind pay attention or take notes. He dreaded going to bed each night, only to lie, sweating and furious, in the suffocating darkness for eight excruciating hours until it was time to get up again. He hadn't dared to look in the mirror for two or three days now, already quite aware of how horrific the dark circles under his eyes would look in comparison to his pale skin. Instead, he averted his eyes as he brushed his teeth, ran a hand through his messy, white blonde hair and stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
The seventh year Ancient Runes class had been queuing outside Professor Babbling's classroom for a good twenty minutes first thing on Monday morning, when Hermione Granger – who was standing next to him in line, but not too close – sighed impatiently in a way that made Draco's lip curl, and happened to turn her head in his direction.
'God,' she exclaimed, apparently before she could stop herself, 'You look awful! I mean… tired.'
She caught herself, but not quite quickly enough. He slid his gaze to her with the minimum of effort, his mouth set in an unimpressed line and muttered, 'Thanks a lot.'
He found himself unable to retaliate in his usual hateful manner because he was just too damn tired, and, anyway, he knew she was right. He hoped that they could mercifully allow this poor excuse for a conversation to die quietly there, but the mudblood just kept on flogging.
'I take it you haven't been sleeping?' She asked.
'What do you think?' He replied dryly.
'Yeah… sorry,' she mumbled. She looked down at her pile of books clutched in the crook of one arm and chewed her thumbnail while Draco let his head fall back against the hard, cool wall behind him and wished that he could just sink back into it and disappear. He wouldn't mind being a brick, he thought. He wondered if he'd done enough bad things in his life yet to constitute his future reincarnation as a brick. He didn't think he'd done anything that bad yet. Maybe if he murdered Granger he'd come back as a brick. Granger who, by the way, was still talking.
Draco resurfaced from his thoughts and tuned back in to her inane drone, but he thankfully realised that she was no longer talking to him.
'Oh, yes,' she was saying to Padma Patil, 'Justin's very enthusiastic, he just isn't all that…'
'Good?' Padma suggested bluntly.
'No! It's not that. I just don't think he's exactly who Shakespeare had in mind when he wrote the part of Romeo…' Hermione replied carefully.
Draco rolled his eyes skyward and gratefully tuned out again. Hogwarts was putting on a production of Romeo and Juliet before Christmas, and it seemed that it was all that anybody could talk about. It was an idea that smacked of Professor McGonagall, and one which Draco had been convinced would immediately be shot down in flames by the entire student body. Half of the pupils from Hogwarts had been brought up in wizarding families and hadn't even heard of William Shakespeare before and, yet, Draco had been proved utterly wrong. Even Slytherins had auditioned and were now taking part in this embarrassment, but not Draco: not a chance.
It wasn't that Malfoy himself didn't know who Shakespeare was, or even that he didn't like his plays. In fact, he had read Romeo and Juliet quite a few more times than he'd be comfortable letting anybody know about. However, in his experience, school productions of anything were generally hugely upsetting affairs, and he saw no reason why this one would be any different. For a start, McGonagall had cast Justin Finch Fletchley as Romeo, and Hermione Granger as Juliet. Granger might be all right, he supposed grudgingly. At least, he reasoned, she could speak coherent English when she put some effort into it. However, they didn't come much more bumbling and pompous than Justin Finch Fletchley. He was – if anything – straight out of a PG Wodehouse novel. And, yes, Draco Malfoy also knew who PG Wodehouse was.
'Finch Fletchley will murder that part,' a voice said, interrupting Hermione and Padma's conversation.
Both girls turned instantly to look at Draco, and, as they did, his exhausted brain caught up with his big mouth and he realised that the voice had belonged to him.
'Like you would know, Malfoy,' Padma retorted loyally.
Hermione gave no instant response, suggesting to Draco that she agreed.
'You didn't audition,' she said slowly, 'If you thought you could have done better, you should have proved it.'
Draco smirked as cruelly as he could muster, 'I wouldn't have done better,' he replied, 'I would have done best.'
Hermione made no attempt to hide an exaggerated yawn as she rolled her eyes.
Over her shoulder, Draco saw Professor Babbling finally appear and unlock the door to her classroom. Slowly, the class began to sleepily make their way inside, one by one.
'Don't worry,' Draco said to Hermione, levelly meeting her gaze and still smirking, 'I'm sure it'll be fine.'
With that, he skirted briskly round her and slipped through the door to find his seat.
'Don't listen to him, Hermione,' Padma said, making a face at Draco's back, 'It will be fine. Justin will do great. Come on, let's hurry up.'
Hermione said nothing.
