This was quite possibly the best bath she'd had in her lifetime. The overflowing bubbles were an iridescent pink, and though Hermione detested pink and all its categories, their effect against the giant bathtub, not to mention the way they felt against her skin was positively intoxicating.
She sighed happily as she settled deeper into the bathtub, closing her eyes. This was one of the many perks of being a prefect, and Hermione intended to abuse this one to its maximum capacity. The location itself was perfect as well…there being quite a bit of distance between all the four house's commons and fifth floor. Not everyone seemed too keen on the prospect of walking a mile early morning just to get a shower. Neither was she, to be honest. She would reserve this for special days, to catch a break from her friends, her studies and the odious Umbridge.
Having had sat in a pool of jasmine scented water for so long that her palms began to prune, she grudgingly rose. She had barely finished patting herself dry when she heard the door's magical click. She only had the time to cover as much as she could with her towel because her wand lay on top of the folded pile of her uniform on the other side of the pool.
She had a split second of a thought to jump back into the pool…but the bubbles were all gone. There was nothing she could do but brace herself.
Then came the most obnoxious whistle she'd heard in her life, followed by a tall frame and the unmistakable flash of white blond hair. He opened the doors wide with arms braced over their sides, undoubtedly thinking he owned the place but when their eyes met, his whistle died at his lips and his lips froze in its formation.
She couldn't scream, she could hardly move…because she half expected her joints and muscles to betray herself, botch everything and somehow drop the shield clinging precariously to her modestly. If that happened she'd have no option but to curl up and die somewhere.
Meanwhile, Malfoy hadn't seemed to have moved a muscle either. His arms were still braced at the at doors, his mouth was still open and his feet were frozen mid step…but his eyes, his eyes were taking in every inch of her. He could only see the top of her chest and shoulders, plus pretty much the entirety of her legs but her front was appropriately covered. And yet…yet he stared like he'd be able to see through if could just do it long enough.
His face was nearly unrecognizable from the lack of the snooty smirk he always carried; that and the utter disdain which dripped from his features every time he looked at her and her friends.
She must have made some kind of noise at this point because he finally met her eyes.
It was horribly awkward. Not because of the situation itself, but because he was Draco Malfoy, the least likely person she would've ever expected to see her in such state. He continued to stare at her, motionless, like a snake gauging its prey.
When over a minute had passed, she realized he wasn't going to do anything but stand there, and she would have to make the first move.
She cleared her throat, "Mind giving me some privacy to dress?" Her voice came out much more carefree than she would have expected.
His eyes finally blinked.
He stood ruminating for a while there, probably searching for some smartass reply, or turn the situation in his favour somehow…but apparently buried somewhere deep inside of his vile personality were manners which he displayed by sluggishly about facing and walking away outside.
Her breath came out in a staggering gush. "Sweet baby Jesus."
She realized that she was hot and cold all over. Her face felt on fire and her knees were about to give out. She magicked herself dry and dressed in all of thirty seconds. Muttering a spell to drain the pool, she walked towards the door, taking in one last breath of the jasmine scented air.
She had expected him to have left entirely, but he hadn't. He was leaning against the wall not two feet away with his arms crossed.
She hazarded a glance at him as she walked past, but he wasn't looking at her anymore.
She wanted to say something, shout at him, wanted to diffuse the tension somehow…like she obviously would have, had it been some other guy that had walked in. But it was just so completely bizarre. He was the pureblood bully who had made fun of her at every chance, who was so religiously bent on making their lives hell and she was the muggleborn butt of his jokes. It was all completely preposterous.
As she turned the corner, she thought she heard, "Bloody fuck."
He no longer called her mudblood.
She hadn't noticed at first. She was way too fixated on the apparent apathy in his manners since the incident. He acted like it had never happened. He and his Inquisitorial Squad would zero in on them, exchange the standard insults, she would unsuccessfully request the boys to ignore him and he would mimic her voice, directly his nastiest sneer in her direction.
He continued docking off unnecessary points, spying after them, snitching about their activities to Umbridge and being a general pain in the ass. If she didn't know any better, it seemed like nothing whatsoever had changed at all.
As she walked towards the Owlery, she absently wondered if she could ever step foot in that bathroom again, ever experience its breathtaking collection of bathing salts, oils and perfumes without the embarrassing incident blotting her mind. She would of course, she wasn't a coward, thought she had been momentarily silly. Password protected doors do need to be locked from inside as well, she'd been so stupid to have forgotten that.
Dusting off the snow from her shoes as she reached the last step, she felt him before she saw him.
He was standing with his back to her, stroking his falcon's neck with a single gloved finger. With a final pat on the head, the bird spread its elegant wings and took flight towards the East.
Deciding that ignoring him was probably for the best, she busied herself with her letter.
"What are you doing here?"
She'd been examining the cages of the school owls, noting the filth and the rodent bones when she felt him come up behind her.
"Sending a letter, Malfoy. That's what people use this place for."
She felt his arm at her elbow, as he turned her to face him with surprising strength, but she was more taken aback by the fact that he had touched her.
"Is that right? I can think of a couple of other uses."
She looked into his arctic grey eyes as he looked down at her, their pupils blown wide, and realized that everything had changed after all.
And he proved that by pulling her close and covering her lips with his.
