"Explain to me again why this has to be done in your Slytherin dormitory? Hermione asked pointedly , scowling at a hostile looking Blaise. She was following the Head Boy, Malfoy to be specific, through the Slytherin Common rooms, and to his room. They had to work on heads related planning duties.
"We could have done this somewhere more neutral. Like the library." Hermione continued sourly, following him up a steep staircase, which presumably led to his private dormitory.
"I dont have the time it would take to make someone like you fathom the idea of having an image to upkeep." He drawled without looking back at her.
"The library is a respectable location!" She replied indignantly. She did too have an image. What was he smoking?
Hermione bumped into him when he suddenly turned around sharply halfway up the staircase. "Listen. I have my reasons. And I'm certainly not in the mood to put up with your conceited attitude in my usual cheerful and patient manner. So shut the hell up, and lets get this done with." Even though their noses were almost touching, Hermione didn't back down, or back off.
"No, you listen here Malfoy. Your daddy may be able to buy off your Quidditch team, and Snape, but he will never buy me off. So you will have to cooperate with my demands once in a while if you wish to remain Head boy." She hissed heatedly.
Neither Head moved an inch; they both didn't want to risk seeming as if they were giving in. Finally, the portrait leading to the common room slammed loudly and they were both forced to look away. Internally, they both heaved a sigh of relief. Their infamous fights never did end well.
Meanwhile, Pansy Parkinson fumed as she slammed the Slytherin dormitory portrait behind her. She had gone out of her way to make a stop at the library and give her boyfriend a welcome relief from the monotony of working with that bushy-haired, long-molared witch Granger. But he hadn't been there. What type of boyfriend was he? When he said he would be somewhere, he should be there. Or he would meet the wrong end of her wrath. He was spending an awfully abnormal amount of time with Granger. Perhaps it was time to let her mother and father know that Draco wasn't treating her well in favor for the mudblood. Her parents could then proceed to socially annihilate the Malfoys. That could work...but then she'd lose him, right?
Perhaps he was just avoiding her because of their spat last night. What a baby.
"Ivanovich will work on Thursday, setting up. From 6pm to 8pm. We'll need someone to assist him."
"How about a Slytherin? I don't see any Slytherin prefects signing up on this list."
"I don't believe putting a Slytherin to work with a Gryffindor is the best idea you've come up with Granger."
"And why not?" her eyes shone with a tinge of anger. They had been working for hours and were nowhere near finished. Because Malfoy couldn't get off his bloody high horse and compromise without extreme amounts of sneaky cajoling from her part. And she was fed up with that! "Why can't you Slytherins work with anyone besides yourselves? If you don't put them on the list, I will." She spat.
"This is exactly why we Slytherins refuse to work with Gryffindors. You self-righteous pricks are downright annoying." He snapped back at her. He ran his fingers through his hair exasperated. Two hours of this nonsense, and they hadn't gotten anywhere. Bloody Gryffindor had to accommodate everyone's schedule, ("you can't put him in that slot, he's got quidditch practice!") The two of them were sitting on his bed as neither wanted to sit on the floor, and the desk wasn't big enough to accommodate two. Draco turned around to glare at the brown haired girl sitting Indian-style next to him. "I'm done for today."
"I'm not coming back to work on this. So if you want to stop now, you'll have to finish it up yourself later. I've got other things I'd like to work on tomorrow and the day after."
"And you think I've all the time in the world to do this? I have a Potions examination I need to study for tomorrow!" He retorted.
"Then lets finish right now! So we'll never have to worry about it again!"
"You finish it." He hastily got up off his bed just as Hermione picked up the ink bottle. The sudden movement of the bed caused her to move as well. As a result, the ink bottle turned in her hand, and its black contents spilled out onto Malfoy's once immaculate white t- shirt.
"Damn it, Granger." He growled his eyes flashing.
She stood up and met him at the foot of his bed. "Sorry." The word slipped out of her mouth as she dabbed at his shirt with a handkerchief. She only succeeded in spreading the stain.
In a flash of a movement, he reached down, taking hold of the bottom ends of his shirt, and raised his arms above his head, thereby ridding himself of the dirty garment. Tossing it to the side, he took a step closer to the girl in front of him.
"I have a proposition for you."
Elsewhere, Ron pinched his new girlfriend on the side, and she giggled. So he tickled her, which by and by, led to the two of them rolling around on the ground laughing.
If the rest of the common room noticed this intoxicating behavior, which the majority did, not one person said a word.
Ronald Weasley had never been the brightest bulb. But his trading in Hermione for the "new and improved" Lavender Brown? Biggest mistake ever.
"It wont work. Not one person at this school would believe it for a second."
"I'm not daft. We'll make it believable."
"Well, believe it or not, I'm not stupid either. And if you think, for a second, that I'm going to let you pretend to court me, just so you can break up with me, and laugh in my face, think again. I will never let that happen to me again. Do you understand me?" She jabbed his chest with her index finger.
"I already told you I don't care about the conditions, as long as I'm allowed to publicize this relationship as I wish." He shook his head. When would this witch listen for a minute and realize that the world didn't revolve around her?
"And what does that mean? Whats in this for you?" she questioned, truly suspicious of his "proposal."
"It isn't necessary for you to know."
"The hell it isn't! If I'm going to do this, we'll have to be forthcoming about information like this. Do you understand? You aren't calling the shots." She angrily spouted.
The blond boy glared at her for a few seconds. "My father would not approve of this relationship, and I seek to gain his disapproval." He spoke in a distantly cold tone as if he truly didn't wish this was the way he had to be. "I am not a stupid man, and I know my family name is in the rubbish bin." He continued more softly this time. He began pacing. Then raising his voice, he said vehemently, "And I won't stand for it!" Suddenly, he turned to Hermione, pointing his finger in her face, "My father is a great bumbling buffoon!"
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "I get to call off the relationship when I have what I want."
"When you get the redheaded rheumatic rhino back, you mean?"
"Where did that even come from? Running out of insults are we? Resorting to 'bumbling buffoon' and 'redheaded rheumatic rhino'? "
He ignored her comment, and she smirked in true Slytherin fashion. "Are we agreed?" He asked impatient now.
"Agreed. Now put your shirt back on. You didn't need to take off your shirt to make me agree with you, you know. "
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