Detentions

Written by Jami Ruggeri

July 25th, 2006

Chapter One: Dead Weight

Head Girl, Hermione Granger drifted down the staircases, reluctant to even try to have a normal conversation with Head Boy, Draco Malfoy. With a look of disgust Hermione made her way to the dungeons, hopeful that Malfoy would be cooperative. The night air sifted through the corridors, dank and cold. She shivered as she came to the portrait that would lead to the Slytherin common room. Since she was Head Girl, Hermione was able to proceed into any of the House's common rooms, if only to discuss official duties. Sighing, Hermione gave the proper password and held her breath as the portrait swung open to reveal the dark, and stonewalled Slytherin common room. Candles and torches flickered violently on the walls and tables.

There were hardly any Slytherins out and about, only a few students were studying at a desk, two of which she recognized as Millicent Bullstrode and Blaise Zabini, and Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Greggory Goyle were sitting on a couch, whispering intently with amused expressions. Malfoy laughed out loud, and Pansy giggled. Goyle rolled his eyes. That's when Pansy spotted Hermione.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" She spewed, her dark eyes sparkling with loathing. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I have to speak with Malfoy. So if you would excuse us, we need to discuss important matters." Hermione told her, gesturing for Malfoy to follow her out of the portrait hole. Malfoy sniggered, but followed.

Once out of the common room, Malfoy turned on Hermione. "What's so important, Mudblood?" Hermione clenched her teeth, but let it go.

"We need to discuss our next meeting. You know, to figure out whose doing what and where for the Christmas Ball in two weeks." Malfoy yawned. Hermione sighed. "Look, I don't want to do this either. I could be studying for Transfiguration, but I knew I had to get this out of the way. The meeting is tomorrow night."

"Okay, Granger, don't get your panties in a bunch. Let's go sit down in a classroom or something." He grabbed her arm and led her into a spare classroom that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages. "I'll go get some paper and a quill."

Hermione was indeed surprised at his well-behaved manners this night, and quite relieved that he was being so cooperative. He sat down across from her, giving her a weird look. "What are you staring at?" He asked her. Hermione blushed and looked away.

"Nothing at all. Now, who should take care of the decorations? I suggest Padma Patil and Hannah Abbot. What do you think?" Hermione said, twirling her hair, watching his expressions.

"Whatever. Does it matter?"

"Of course it does! Well, maybe not to you, anyway. Okay, so who should be in charge of music and catering?"

Malfoy leaned back in his chair, lifting his feet up onto the table and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lifted one to his mouth and lit it with his wand. He took a deep drag and after a few seconds, let the smoke spill from his mouth, creating a perfect circle. "That sounds like a job for Pansy and yourself." He said, a smirk plastered onto his handsome face.

Hermione looked insulted. "Are you kidding? Me, working with that complete cow? You must be joking."

"Now, now, be nice. She isn't that bad."

"She's positively dreadful." Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms. "And when did you start smoking?" She asked, wanting him to forget his suggestion.

He chuckled. "Fourth year."

"Oh." She peered around the empty, dusty, dark classroom. "Why?"

"I was bored, and I just sort of stuck with it one day."

"I think you should put it out. Snape or Filch could bust in at any moment and give you a detention for smoking on school premises." He smirked.

"Relax, Granger. I know you're concerned for my well-being, but Snape already knows of my little habit. Although he doesn't necessarily approve, he's not my father, and he's caught me on several occasions lighting one up and doesn't give me detention or anything like that." He chuckled at her astonished expression and he took a few more drags. "What one?"

"Um… no thanks. I'd rather not kill myself with cancer-sticks." He shrugged and took another puff. "Anyway, I'm not working with Pansy Parkinson. I doubt she would even want to work with me as well."

"Give it a try. You could become best friends!" He cried, imitating an annoying teenage girl.

"Sod off. You're ridiculous." She told him.

"Well, if you're so scared of Pansy, you could team up with me." He told her, smirking and showing some pearly white teeth.

"I am not scared of stupid Pansy, but I would honestly rather work with you than her. I can at least stand being in the same room with you for more than five minutes." She said through clenched teeth, a blush on her face.

"Ah. I see…" He trailed off, a look of curiosity on his features.

"What is that look for? It's not what you think!" She sputtered, waving her hands in front of her.

"You fancy me, don't you, Granger?" He said, putting his cigarette out on the hardwood table. Smoke drifted upwards, clouding the area around them.

"Ugh! No! I was just saying that you're much more tolerable than Pansy! I swear!"

"It's alright to have a crush on someone, Granger. And honestly, I'm proud of you. You fancy only the most handsome, pureblooded Slytherin there is yet. But don't worry, you're not the only one, I assure you." Hermione slammed a fist onto the table.

"I don't fancy you! I could never fancy someone whose a downright foul git!" Hermione stood.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." He stood as well, and crossed his arms, smirking wickedly. Hermione let out a frustrated groan. "You know, Granger, you're kind of sexy when you're angry. Now I finally know why I love to pester you to no end." She let out another groan and smacked him across his face, the sound echoing off of the stonewalls, leaving small vibrations in the floor. Malfoy reached up and touched his face where a faint red mark was beginning to appear on his tender, pale skin. He reached out and grabbed one of her arms, pulling her forward. Her knees hit the table with a loud thud and she cried out in pain. "Now, now. I was complimenting you. That was uncalled for."

"Get off me! You're hurting my arm!" She wailed, and he pulled her closer, breathing down at her face. He smelled like smoke and spice, and she nearly swooned at the strong, musty scent. He took a hold of her shoulders and she was sitting on the table. "I said get off!"

"That's not a bad look for you, Granger. Your hair all frizzy and knotty, sweat beading off of your face and down your neck into the little nook of your breasts. Looks like you've just had a quickie."

"Shut up, you perverted prat!" And she began punching him hard into his chest, knocking him forward. He brought her with him, and then they were both standing. She wouldn't stop and he ended up getting frustrated and his ego was falling, so he took a hold of her firmly and threw her down and she collapsed in a heap onto the stone cold floor, hitting her head. "Ow…" She cried, holding the back of her head and trying to sit up.

"Well, that's what you get for punching the living daylights out of my chest and stomach. You've sure got the nerve." Malfoy sneered. Hermione got up shakily, and once she got a good hold of herself, she ran towards him, knocking him to the ground, landing on his ass. "You'll pay for that one, Granger."

"No! Now we're even, Malfoy." She reached to the back of her head and looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. "Malfoy, I'm bleeding."

"Shit. That's just great. Now you're going to go run off to McGonagall and tattle on me. Perfect." He said, getting up. Hermione's eyes rolled around and she stumbled forward, landing right into Malfoy's arms. "What's the matter with you now?"

"I can't… I feel… Malfoy…" And she became unconscious, a dead weight in Malfoy's arms.