Author's Note: Not all that to say, to be honest. Quite tired with all doing nothing all day, you know? Love the reviews you awesome people have left. You make me smiilleee. Uh, this chapter get's rubbish near the end, but bare with me, I'm making this up as I go along. Btw, the Dramione couple-ness will be gradual. I mean, they can't just jump eachother after two chapters, can they?
Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.
Word Count: 1, 691.
Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?
Chapter: (2) Seduction Fail.
Thank you in advance to everyone who takes their time to leave a (more than one-worded) review. I appreciate it, a lot.
Yours truly,
- LiveLoveLaugh.
"No way in hell, Zabini. No fucking way in hell."
Blaise sipped his water.
"This isn't what I agreed to, you Italian loon. I can't even stand talking to the Mudblood!"
The Italian loon buttered his bread. Damn, could he use some jam right about now. It'd go oh-so-well with his breakfast.
"Listen Zabini, I am not going through with this rigged bet."
Blaise froze. He just realised; he had forgotten to Owl his mother last week. Crap. This meant a Howler was on the way. A loud one, probably.
"Should I just claim my winnings now?"
Malfoy growled. "You know what? Screw it."
"You haven't screwed it already?" He asked innocently.
"Just watch and learn, Zabini. This is how you win a bet." He challenged as he made his way up and towards the Gryffindor table.
Blaise had to admit. The guy had balls.
Too bad that after this bet, he would have had them paralyzed by Granger's knee.
Mwahaha.
"Gosh, 'Mione. Do you do anything but homework all day long?"
Hermione's head snapped up to effectively glare at the Weasley. She stuck her chin out haughtily, before speaking in a defensive tone. "I dont hear you complaining when I'm practically doing your homework for you, Ronald."
Ron wavered, cast his eyes down and continued eating without another word.
Harry spoke up next, breaking the awkward silence which hung in the air. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
He was standing behind Hermione, his hands in his pockets, his shirt untucked, the first two buttons unbuttoned, and his tie loose and thin. Ron looked up at the handsome blonde. "Leave us alone, Ferret, before I make you regret walking over here."
Hermione turned around in time to watch him chuckle mockingly and retort effortlessly. "And how will you do that, Weasley Wanker? Be so stupid that I resort to killing myself? Well, you're halfway there, I can tell you that."
The Great Hall burst into laughter. Ron reddened and stood up.
Draco looked at Hermione, and tried very - very, - hard not to glare or narrow his eyes at her. She was a Mudblood, afterall. She didn't deserve his eye contact. "Granger." He drawled, biting his tongue to keep himself from calling her Mudblood.
Hermione glared at Draco. "Go shag Pansy or something, Ferret Boy." She collected her books and quills and stood up. "Better yet, find a way to stop using up our air. I have a few suggestions, if you need any."
And she made her way past him and down the hall, past the gaping students.
See, this is why he hated her. She actually thought she was better than him, the bitch.
But after glancing at Blaise's smug-arse smile, he called after her, despite his pride. "If I didn't know any better, Granger; after than Parkinson comment, I'd say you're jealous."
That made her freeze. Heck, it made the whole Great Hall freeze, if they weren't watching already. She turned around, a scowl on her face. "Oh, but Malfoy - you do know better, don't you? Because if you don't, you're stupider than I'd thought."
With that, she stomped out.
Draco muttered under his breath, "Son of a bitch."
Blaise was waiting for him, his mouth turned up in a smile, his eyes sparkling with the sight of near victory. "Tell me, Draco, how does it feel losing a bet so bloody quickly?"
Draco sat down on the bench, his hands balled up into fists. "That Mudblood bitch. Why does it have to be the Mudblood bitch, Zabini?"
"You said any girl of my choice, Malfoy. And my choice is Granger." Blaise grinned. "Unless, of course, you want to back out now?"
"Not a chance, Blaise. Not a damn chance."
He chugged down a glass of pumpkin juice and stormed out, his robes billowing in his wake.
Hermione sat in her favourite seat in her favourite place in Hogwarts - the library.
On the rectangular table were dozens of hardbacks, from DADA textbooks to History of Magic books. She liked surrounding herself with books, liked immersing herself in her work; it was much better than the real world, with her unappreciative friends and social life - or lack therof. Come to think about it, it wasn't as if she cared about social lives. She was fine being an unapproachable bookworm Gryffindor. Well, unapproachable unless you're a stupid little Harry Potter lover who would just die if she hooked you up with a date with the Boy-who-lived.
Her day would have continued on being perfectly fine if he hadn't come in and sat across her.
Draco Malfoy. The slimy, pure blooded, cocky git. He just lived to make her life a living hell, didn't he?
"Ugh, are you not done torturing me with your company yet, Ferret?" She said, not looking up from her book.
"Actually, Mud-Granger." He hated not being able to call her a Mudblood. She looked up at him at this change of words, her eyebrows raised. He carried on smoothly."I just wanted to spend some time in the Library, reading and all that, you know."
She wasn't even close to that stupid. "Right. And I want to go fly around the Quidditch pitch for a bit, you know, almost dying and all that."
He had to admit; she was one of the very few girls - alright, maybe the ONLY girl - who could keep up an intelligent conversation with him. Maybe sometimes even out-wit him. Maybe. Sometimes. He smirked his best seductive smirk, though it was slightly pinched at the corners. "If you want, I could give you some private lessons."
She scoffed. "In what? Being a prat?" And then, as if she just realised what he had meant, she narrowed her eyes. "Wait, did-did you just...are you flirting with me, Ferret?"
He gave her his classic smoldering look, "I don't know; do you want me to?"
She stuttered for a response.
"Because if you do;" He leaned over, and plucked the quill from her hand. "I haven't even started yet."
Merlin, did everything seem to be going his way, or what? Malfoy, now that he thought about it, was almost certain that he'd hear those three words from the Mudblood in no time...
She started laughing. At his flirting. Well, that never happened. "God, Malfoy, whoever said you don't have a sense of humour could not have been more wrong." She started closing her books. "Now that, right there, was hilarious. The way you actually thought that Malfoy smirk and that eye-thing you did would have an affect on me." She laughed again, stacking her books up. "And-and, the way you came over here, thinking that I'd actually enjoy your company instead of want to rip my own head off in it, really makes my day."
She looked him dead in the eye. "Let's get something straight, Ferret. I hate you, and you hate me. That's the way the World works. Let's learn to accept it, shall we?"
And she was about to walk off, when he got up and retorted, having enough of her nonsense. "Woah, Mudblood, you really think you can out-insult me, don't you?"
Hermione smiled, without an ounce of humour. "There we go. The M word. That's what I like to hear."
Draco was getting pissed. "Of course it is, Mudblood. It's what you are. A filthy, dirty, little mongruel."
"Then why are you spending your time talking to me, instead of doing what Pureblooded arses like you do."
"You're right. I'm wasting my valuable, precious time talking to someone so much below me."
Why did he have to be such a JERK? "Leave me alone, then."
"Why? So you can do dirty little things to your dirty little self?" He was now in front of her, staring her down.
"You're a sicko." She stepped forward.
"Just to you, baby." He glared as he invaded her personal space.
"Go fuck yourself."
"Oooh, bad words for little miss Prissy Pants."
"I hate you." They were extremely close now, close enough to feel eachother's heat.
"The feeling's mutual, Mudblood."
"Is that the only insult you know?"
"Your face is an insult."
"Ooh, BURN."
This bet was definately going to screw him over.
"So you talked to her?"
Draco, Theo and Blaise were lounging in the Slytherin Common Room, ditching Muggle Studies. Malfoy's feet rested on the coffee table as he played with a miniature snitch in his hand. "I did."
Blaise looked way too smug, so Draco threw his snitch at him. It hit him in that stupid forehead of his.
Theo grinned, and flipped through the pages of some random book. "What happened? Did your Malfoy charm unclasp her bra, or something?"
"Or something." He rolled his eyes. "The bitch started arguing."
"So you snogged her to stop her talking?"
"No, you fucktard." Draco snapped. "We were seriously arguing. Salazar, I hate that Mudblood."
Theo sat up, his chin in his hand. "Tell me what you've tried. You know, to win her over."
"Hey! He gets no help in this!" Blaise cut in.
They ignored him. Draco thought for a bit. "I gave her my best Malfoy smirk and sex eyes. I even flirted. What more could she want?"
Theo rolled his eyes. "Look; here's what you do."
"SCREW YOU THEO." Blaise complained.
Theo continued. "You get to know her. Find out her likes, do the things she enjoys doing-"
"-I don't see that happening."
"Atleast start with a truce. Get her to stop hating you."
"You mean...become friends?" He said with disgust.
"Precisely, Sex God."
"But...I hate her so bloody much."
"Well maybe you should work on that." Theo said, knowing that his best friend didn't hate her as much as he thought he did.
"Don't see that happening either." He stood up and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.
Blaise looked at Theo. "How long do you think it's going to take him?"
"Not sure." Theo replied, before sitting back in his seat. "How long do you think it's going to take her to make him fall in love?"
"Two months, max."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
