Hermione came into the bathroom to find Draco with his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on the sink. As she moved closer, his face came into view in the mirror, streaked with tears.
"Hi Malfoy." She walked up behind him and ruffled his hair in a friendly manner.
He spun around in shock and then, realising who it was, glowered angrily.
He then realised that she had seen him crying and he possibly needed to make her forget this. Shrieking wrathfully was always a good tactic.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he yelled, angrily wiping tears off his face.
"Well Malfoy, it is the girl's bathroom after all." said Hermione calmly.
She went over to the mirror next to his and began plucking her eyebrows.
Malfoy watched her for a moment, looking disgusted, and then he wailed, "But no-one is meant to use this bathroom! It's off limits! That's why I can come in here and talk about my feelings and cry as much as I like!"
He started sobbing into the sink and Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"It's not off-limits darling, its just that no-one wants to be in here because of Moaning Myrtle. She's terribly annoying you know."
"But, but…Myrtle said..."
"Oh, do shut up Malfoy, dear." Hermione interrupted cheerfully. "You're being horrendously boring."
She started rubbing hand lotion in and then asked, as Draco was obviously not about to tell her of his own free will, "So, Malfoy, why were you crying?"
"Well, it IS canon." said Draco grumpily, wiping away the remaining tears. "And anyway, I can cry if I want to! I'm terribly macho really, and very good looking, so it doesn't matter."
"No, you can't." said Hermione, now leaning back up against the sink and painting her nails. "Not unless the author says you can. You should know that by now."
Draco grumbled miserably and then he began to wail again.
"I HATE that! Fanficcers control my life! I mean, if they wanted to, I might actually find YOU attractive, and then, they could like, make us...MAKE OUT!"
"Oh?" said Hermione nonchalantly, applying lip gloss to lips that, Draco now realised, were incredibly soft.
"Yes." Said Draco, watching her intently. "And it would not be my fault at all."
"Hmmm? Oh, yes. Not your fault. Right-oh. As you wish it. Draco, I CAN tell that you want to snog me, so let's just get on with it, shall we?"
She leaned over and wrapped an arm around his waist.
Draco hesitated for a moment and then said, "and really, I mean, I can't do anything about it, can I? I mean, it's all the authors fault, right?"
"Yes, yes, whatever you say." said Hermione impatiently, pushing him up against the sink.
Draco burst into tears again.
"Oh for GODS SAKE!" Hermione yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.
"What?!?" protested Draco. "You impaled me on the tap."
"You are such a cry-baby! Geez. You'd think the author actually DOESN'T want us to have a good snog session!" she grumbled to herself next to the sink while Draco mussed his hair in the mirror innocently.
"It looks nice like that." She said suddenly, advancing on him steadily.
Draco looked at her.
"What?" he asked, running a hand nervously through his hair.
"Your hair. It looks nicer than when you had it all slicked back like some 50's gangster."
She mussed it up herself.
"Hey!" yelled Draco, nearly bursting into tears again. "I'm in angst goddammit! You have to be really sensitive! Just, don't touch me."
"Oh god. You are so dramatic. You and Harry should get together some time."
She put her head in her hands.
"I cannot believe it. The one time I am actually alone with you, and you start going off like a bloody hosepipe. MEN!"
She stalked off to find Ginny, muttering about becoming a lesbian.
Draco sat down on the sink and started to howl stridently.
A few hours later Harry walked in to find Draco banging his head against the wall and muttering "angst, angst, angst" monotonously.
Harry walked up behind him and gingerly put a hand on his shoulder.
Draco spun around and then, seeing who it was, leapt on him.
"I could crucio you." he purred, forgetting his previous angst and wrapping his legs around Harry's waist.
"But I won't, because I realise now, that everything I do is because of the author. I actually have no say in it at all. Honestly. I don't know why I ever thought otherwise. SO, I have finally accepted that. And I feel so much happier! Join me in celebration!"
He unwrapped himself from Harry and they proceeded to dance happily around the bathroom, singing Texas, Oh Texas! For some reason, which thankfully I am not privy to and has nothing to do with the fact that the author decided to randomly Google™ (is it a ™? I'm not entirely sure. Oh well.). Anyway, to randomly Google a song on the web and use it. Nothing to do with that. Et al.
So there they were, prancing around in between the toilet cubicles (ah, the memories they shall have!) while Moaning Myrtle threw toilet rolls at their heads and joined in with the chorus.
"GOD BLEEEESSSS YOU TEEEXAAAAAASSSSS! AND KEEEEEEP YOU BRAVE AND STRONG, THAT YOU MAY GROOOOOOOWWWW…OW! HARRY!"
"OH, DRACO!"
"OW! HARRY!"
"OH, DRACO!"
"NO, NO, I MEAN, OW! Seriously. Pain. Ooh. That feels nice. Yes. Don't stop that. Aaahhh. Lovely. Ohhh. Dear GOD! You have AMAZING HANDS, HARRY!!"
"Yes. So I have been told. That the spot? Aah yes; don't stop making that noise Draco. Truly. Don't. Mmmm. Yes."
"Oh MY DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN! I think I just had my first head massage induced orgasm."
"Oh. Me too. And I wasn't even the one receiving it. Man. I haven't had sex in ages."
And there we shall leave them. As it is entirely possible that readers may become scarred for life if they continue to examine this particular scene. But I shall hint at it for the dirtier minded amongst you. (Yes. I know you exist.)
The next scene would have, if I had written it, involved jelly, grapes, and exorbitant amounts of leather.