How to Kill a Bookworm: Ruin her Concentration

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Humor

Summary: Draco's changing. He's flailing about, his thoughts are turning into garbage, and he can't even control his own words. Why? It's her. (Read "How to Kill a Malfoy" first. It'll make more sense.)

"Ugh! I … ugh! That stinking git! Always thinking he's so superior. I hate him! That bloody… just wait 'til I get my hands on him!" I exclaimed.

I was shaking, filled to the brim with feelings of anger and spite. I tossed my book bag down in the general area of my seat at the Gryffindor table. It made a loud thud as I huffed, seething. I mouthed several more insults about Malfoy under my breath and made vicious movements with my hands, finally leaving them to rest with a thud onto the hardwood table. I breathed out an apology to those around me and sighed into my seat, tethering my anger to a tree in my mind that was to be re-visited once when I was alone.

"But… Hermione! You forgave me ages ago! Whatever it was, I'm sorry! Really!" said Ron, trying to hide himself behind his dinner (which was, in fact, possible, with the heapings of food he had on there).

"You didn't do anything, Ron. Don't worry. It was that ugly ferret of a Slytherin, bloody prat…" I said, grinding my teeth.

Ron, who now returned to eating his plate of chicken with glee, nodded in agreement.

"He is a git, isn't he? Oi, Harry, pass those potatoes over here!"

"Malfoy? What did he do this time?" Harry asked.

"The usual. Bloody git. I don't want to talk about it."

"But Hermione-"

"No, Ron. It's alright."

First, there was the whole incident in Potions earlier, and now, he was going to berate me about my parents. It's not my fault I'm Muggleborn! No one gets to decide who their parents are.

"The bloody prick," I muttered.

"Here, here!" chimed in Ron, raising his cup for a toast.

"But Hermione, if he hurt you-"

"Forget about it Harry." Besides, if anyone's going to swipe that disgusting smirk off that ferret, it's going to be me.

"Well, it's high time I began studying for those exams, as they're not too far off anymore." I propped up my Transfiguration textbook from my bag onto a pitcher of pumpkin juice and began to read. Harry and Ron groaned and muttered something about Quidditch and leaving. I absentmindedly waved them off and continued to soak up my textbook.

As of right now, I, Draco Malfoy, heirto the Malfoy millions, am hiding in a closet. Not a dignified place to be for someone like a Malfoy, most certainly, but I didn't exactly do a dignified thing back there in the Great Hall…

I waved some spiders away that were hanging around by my face and decided that I was actually really, really stupid…

"Drake! Hey, Drake!"

Merlin help me. It's Blaise.

"Blaise, Blaise, Blaise. I told you to NEVER call me 'Drake'. It's DRACO. D-R-A-C-O."

"What? Whatever. Anyway, the guys have some alcohol up in the dorms. It's Muggle stuff, but, hey, it's just as great as that firewhiskey. What a great buzz…"

He kept describing the Muggle alcohol and its qualities and, as I usually do when Blaise is talking, I let my mind wander.

"…So, you up for it, Drake?"

I thought it over for a moment. Muggle alcohol…

"I'll consider it."

"Alright! I'll see you there, Drake!" Blaise then left.

Rolling my eyes, I continued to eat my dinner. I took a small, casual glance towards the Gryffindor table. I sighed. There she was. But where were Pothead and the Weasel? Ah, who cares… finally, I could speak to her all alone. Wait. What in hell am I going on about?

I put the last spoonful of mashed potato in my mouth as most of the students were leaving. She was still there, and all who were left in the Great Hall were a few scattered first and second years. I gulped down the rest of the contents of my goblet and for reasons I'll probably never truly know, I walked to the Gryffindor table.

Faster, my feet were moving. Even faster still, my heart was beating. I don't need any alcohol for a "buzz" as Blaise called it. I just have to think of her, be in her presence…

Just behind her now…

Still don't know what I'm doing...

I took a peek at what she was reading; Transfiguration text book. She was writing some notes about Animagi. My mouth opened. What came out? Some garbage. It undoubtedly didn't sound like something I'd say yesterday.

"Animagi, turning from a human into an animal and back at will. Well. That'd be bloody useful. I'd like to be a bird. What about you?"

She's about to respond when she suddenly stops and turns to me with a glare.

"A bird, eh? I think a rat would be more fitting, Malfoy."

A bird? Did I just say I wanted to be a BIRD?

"What are you doing here? This is the GRYFFINDOR table!"

I ignored her and smiled. I actually smiled.

"What are you smiling about? Get away!"

Wait. I'm smiling? What? I'm going soft. First this bird business and now I'm smiling. What'll be next?

She just kept going and going. And then she stopped.

Oh yes. I did something. What else could I do to shut up a bookworm? Ruin her concentration? I did that already. And she's still blathering on. So what else was needed? Kiss her? That'd help as well, I suppose. So I did. And then I ran.

Thus, here I am, in this closet. It might just be safe to come out now, because judging by my pocket watch, it's well past dinner time.

I hope there's still some alcohol left up in the dorms. Merlin knows I need a good stiff drink tonight.

Not sure whether i want to continue this. cause this actually seems like a good place to stop and then write a tagalong to this one... make it a 3 part type thing. or even 4, if i'm up to it. we'll have to see, i guess...

so. thanks for reading, review, all that good stuff.

--tds.