Chapter 3
Draco Malfoy
A few seconds after I left the classroom, and went outside, I heard an annoying, squealing voice from behind me shout "Drakie-Poooo!" Daaaamn! I felt my high-spirits drain away. There is only one person in the entire school, correction, the entire world, who would ever dare to call me any of those absurdly humiliating... things. Pansy Parkinson. I turned around slowly. "How are you, my little snookums shortcake?" she cooed. Oh Merlin. What the HELL is that? Snookums shortcake??? The bitch makes them up!!
"Don't call me that," I muttered.
"What's that, my darrrling honeybuns?" Hence the hair stroking. It only got worse. "I said not to use those damned stupid nicknames!" I yelled at her, while shaking myself free of her grasp. Pansy pouted. "But they're cute. And when I use little nicknames people know that we're going out."
I practically choked on my own tongue. "We WHAT???" I spluttered angrily. "I have never been out with you in my entire life, and I never intend to."
Pansy's face darkened with rage, then her eyes lit up. "I'll make you a deal. If you call out to everyone that we're dating, and then kiss me, RIGHT NOW, then I'll stop with the nicknames... for a week" Right, now I was really bloody angry. What did she think I meant by 'never'?
"I'd rather kiss the filthy mudblood GRANGER than you!!" I snapped, then turned around to walk off. I stopped in my tracks. Bloody hell. Granger was standing there, holding her books, and sporting a shocked, wide-eyed expression. Damn. She'd definitely heard. Damn. Damn. Damn. How many people had heard? My reputation was ruined!! Damn. I glared at her, then stalked off to my next class.
*
Hermione Granger
"I'd rather kiss the filthy mudblood GRANGER than you!!" I heard Malfoy shout. I stood there, feeling shocked for a second. What a liar. I bet he wouldn't even touch a 'filthy mudblood' like me. I scowled. Bloody Slytherin. He turned around, and looked right at me. He looked even more shocked than I felt, and not at all like the muggleborn-hating Malfoy that I was used to. But a second later, he glared at me, and I wondered if I had imagined the wide-eyed look of fright on his face. But no, it had definitely been there.
I walked to Charms. I got to the classroom early, and Harry and Ron arrived five minutes later. By the look on his face, I could see that Ron was still annoyed with me. For Merlin's sake! I had only told him not to talk back to Snape. Bloody Ronald. Bloody Malfoy. Bloody everything. We sat down, with Harry in the middle. Why did Ron have to be so bloody stubborn?
