Chapter Synopsis: Things that happen at prefect meetings.
Beta: Mama2HPBabies and MrBenzedrine
Notes: It's just going to get more meta from here.
Chapter 2
Hermione can't contain her giggling. Draco's breath tickles her neck and sends shivers down her spine.
"Shh!" Madame Pince reprimands the young couple.
"Alright, Draco. We need to finish this. We haven't even gotten to the part where we went from—"
"—wanting to kill each other to wanting to shag each other?"
"Real eloquent," she says sarcastically, "but yes."
"Alright, on with the show..."
—xoxox—
All the prefects were gathered in their lounge for their weekly meeting, awaiting the heads of house. The room was a comfortable space, not too large. It only ever needed to accommodate around thirty people at most. It was filled with comfortable seating in all the house colors and a large Hogwarts insignia over the fireplace. One wall was dedicated to the prefects' patrol schedule and division of duties and another wall showed the awarding and deduction of house points in real time.
Hermione Granger looked dead sexy as her uniform skirt seemed shorter than usual, exposing those long, toned legs. Her jumper also looked much tighter as the woolen fabric practically suffocated her perky tits. The house elves must have used hot water by accident. Who could have ever convinced them to do that…
On the other side of the room, Draco Malfoy looked like an arrogant prick as he let that slag Pansy Parkinson run her fat little fingers through his beautiful hair. What is it with her hands? How can she be rail thin with no tits, and have weird chubby hands. I guess that happens when you're busy giving hand jobs to every boy in school.
When the heads of house walked in, the prefects gathered closely to await instructions.
"Good afternoon, prefects," Professor McGonagall said.
"Good afternoon, professor," they replied in unison.
"I'll be brief. Please continue your confiscation of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," she said sternly.
"I almost regret teaching those little bastards charms," said Professor Flitwick.
"And potions. Much to my dismay, they were two of my best students," Professor Snape interjected.
"Yes, yes. They are very talented indeed. Nonetheless, their products are disruptive and far too effective," Minerva said with a mix of pride and exasperation, "We'll have to hire Madame Pomfrey an assistant at this rate."
"Slytherin House," Snape said as he stared daggers into his prefects, "'He looked at me funny' is not grounds for deduction of points. If you are clearly irritated by a student, do use a bit more imagination on how you report them."
"Severus!" Professor Sprout exclaimed. The head of Hufflepuff was astounded at the Slytherin head's suggestion.
Snape rolls his eyes and added, "What I am implying is find a better reason. Do not deduct points because you are in the mood to do so."
After a series of grumbles, they eventually agreed and said, "Yes, professor."
"Hufflepuff House," Professor Sprout says with a warm sunny smile, "My dears, you issue far too many warnings. You need to start deducting. You can't keep letting the little scamps run all over you. Please try to be a bit more disciplinarian."
The Hufflepuffs, eager to please, immediately responded with, "Yes, professor."
"Ravenclaw House," Professor Flitwick looked downright perturbed, "Your responsibilities as prefects take the same precedence as your studies. You cannot patrol the halls with your noses stuck in books or doodling in sketchpads and strike offending students with silencing and petrification charms. You must handle miscreants in a diplomatic manner."
The Ravenclaws don't understand what the big deal is but also agreed to their head's request and responded, "Yes, professor."
"Gryffindor House," Professor McGongall rubs her temples not knowing where to start, "Everything Professor Snape said applies to you as well. Also, you haven't been silencing students or petrifying them, but you've been threatening to do so, and that is just as bad— Mr. Weasley ."
The Gryffindors sat there shuffling their feet as the Slytherins chuckled at their being scolded like children—But it didn't stop the Gryffindors from sneering at the snakes. The gryffindor prefects all agreed in unison and also replied with, "Yes, professor."
"Very well," Professor McGonagall said, "Last order of business. Professor Flitwick will be directing a production of William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and I will be the producer."
"Producer?" Filius sounded alarmed, not knowing how his production was just hijacked.
"Did I get your your auditorium or not?" she bent down and asked him quietly.
"Oh, well. Yes…" the little wizard said at a loss for words.
The crowd of students murmured excitedly.
"There are plenty of roles to fill, actors, costume designers, set designers, and lighting and sound technicians," Minerva said excitedly. Her tone shocked the students. With exception to quidditch matches, they have only ever seen her either stern or stoic—and there really isn't much variation in those two states.
"And there will be a twist to the tale!" Flitwick said sounding even more thrilled, "We are retelling the tale set in the Wizarding World! Instead of muggle dueling, we will be working in stage wand work with modified spells!"
The boys in the room nod thinking that putting on a stuffy old play might not be too terrible. The girls are total mush thinking who will play the leads in the most romantic tragedy in all of literature.
Professor McGonagall hands out a sign-up sheet to each house, "Hang these up in your common rooms and return them to Professor Flitwick on Friday. Auditions will begin one week from today."
The students nodded in acknowledgment.
"You may be dismissed," said Professor Snape, "Mister Malfoy, can you please hold back a moment."
"I'll see you back in the common room," Parkinson said suggestively. Draco shrugs as his eyes flitted over to see Granger bent over as she picked her rucksack off the ground.
"Yes, professor?" the handsome heir asked
"Your father wants you involved in the play," Snape said directly.
"Oh, does he? Well, I'll tell him that I already intended on it," Draco said, surprised that he even needed to be told.
"Really? Have you read the play? Do you already know what role you would like to audition for?" Snape said with an air of condescension.
"Definitely not Romeo. The whole 'star-crossed lovers' thing isn't really my bag. Most likely Tybalt — risking death to protect family honor — I can really identify with that, wouldn't you agree? Also, he has great dueling scenes."
Snape was impressed that Draco Malfoy, not only read this play before, but actually had a grasp on character development. "Very well. Good luck to you."
"Thanks, professor."
That is where the professor made his error. It's bad luck to say 'good luck' in the theatre. Snape had sent Draco on an unexpected path.
—xoxox—
Meanwhile in the Gryffindor common room, Ginny squirmed in her jumper and grew irritable, eventually pulling it off, to reveal her white uniform shirt. The material was stretched so tightly across her chest, it appeared as though buttons could pop off at any moment.
"Why is my uniform so tight?!" the redhead exclaimed.
"You too?" Hermione returned the frustration. "I thought it was just me. I was blaming it on Christmas weight."
"No, I think the laundry was tampered with. Christmas goodies would explain the shirts and jumpers, but it won't explain how our skirts are now four inches shorter," Ginny said as she pulled down her skirt.
"Do you know if any girls from the other houses have this problem?" Hermione asked.
"Just Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. I have a theory," Ginny said and grabbed Hermione's attention, "Apparently, our houses have the best legs and arses in the school because we live in the towers. I'll take it as a form of flattery."
"Great. One more thing for me to deal with. Fucking prefect duties," Hermione took her jumper off, too, as they sat on the rug in front of the fire. "So I'm thinking about going after the role of the Nurse or the Friar,"
"Why not go for the lead?" Ginny asked while stuffing her face full of crisps.
"Because I'm refuse to play a female character who would just off themselves because of some man or boy or whatever. You know what I mean?" Hermione said, getting heated as her feminist ideals make their way forward.
"Well, rumor has it, Cormac McLaggen, Blaise Zabini, and Dean are all going out for Romeo. As someone who has kissed Dean, it would be quite enjoyable for any Juliet. Also, have you seen both Zabini and McClaggen without their shirts off? God bless Quidditch." Ginny puts her hands together in mock prayer.
"Blaise, no. Cormac on the other hand…"
"Hermione Granger! Spill it!" Ginny demanded.
"Well, he was far more tolerable after a few glasses of champagne at Slughorn's Christmas party. Especially when his mouth was too busy to talk…"
—xoxox—
"No! No! No! I don't want to hear this!" Draco exclaims as takes the quill from Hermione.
"What Draco? Don't want to hear me talk about Cormac?" Hermione says playfully.
"Why would I want to hear about that?" Draco says, getting jealous and frustrated.
"Oh, come off it. I know all about your exploits. The whole school does. You don't want me to write about how Cormac snuck me behind the drapes and reached under my—"
"Stop!" he says as he puts his hand over her mouth. She retaliates by licking the inside of his palm, sending his senses wild and releasing his grip, "Fuck, Granger."
"You know, it's not fair that I know everything about your past and you know nothing of mine," she says matter-of-factly.
"Can't I keep the illusion that I'm the one corrupting you?"
"Malfoy, you assume I haven't been corrupted?" She has the most mischievous look in her eye and it drives Draco crazy. He has no idea how to read it. "Oh, speak of the devil. Look who's coming this way. Hi, Cormac."
"Hermione," he says with a wink. Cormac then turns to Draco and says with a more curt voice, "Malfoy."
"Dick-laggen."
"I'm sorry. What did you say?" the burly seventh year says as he stops in his tracks.
"McLaggen. What do you think I said?" Draco says trying to be cool.
Cormac looks Draco up and down and walks away in a huff.
Hermione touches Draco on the arm and says, "I have an idea..."
Draco, still cranky about the situation, pouts, "What?"
"You make me forget all about what's-his-mouth," Hermione says while running her finger across his bottom lip.
"Yeah, the story can wait. We have another couple of days until the deadline. Let's go." With a flick of the wrist he waves his wand and quickly packs all of their belongings in his school bag. He grabs Hermione by the hand and drags her out of the library to give her new—no—better memories.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. I'm also on tumblr: harrypotterandthegobletofwine and Facebook: saintdionysuswriter.