Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this story. Wish I did though.
Chapter Three Modeling Career
'Go away Malfoy,' Hermione yelled through the closed portrait hole.
'No,' he replied coolly, making Hermione even angrier.
'You prat!' she shrieked. 'You slimy, mangy, git, son of a b'-
'Shut up for once, Granger, and just listen to me,' he snapped. Hermione was taken aback. She'd never known Malfoy to lose his cool before. Draco was fairly shocked too, because the know-it-all had actually done what he told her to. He threw back his shoulders smugly, with a new air of authority. Even Hermione could sense it through the portrait hole.
'Look, I...' he thought for a minute about what he would say. One wrong word and the girl might blow a gasket. She listened, silently, to his spluttering. This had better be good. She was about ready to rampage out of the bathroom and smack him upside the head like she had in third year. Ah, sweet memories.
'Granger, I like your body,' Draco finally decided to say. That was the only way he could put it, even if it wasn't the best choice. He heard and angry snort from the other side of the painting and hurried to continue before she could interrupt. He groaned softly, and wondered what his father would say if he caught his only son sucking up to a mudblood.
He continued. 'Granger, I realize that the picture I drew does look...a little like you, its true, but honestly, I was looking at a wooden drawing model.' He paused, waiting for a reaction, but none came. 'Yeah. And for some time now, I've been needing a...a real model. Like, an actual person. And even if you are a mudblood, you're still...' he wondered if he should add what he was about to say. Well, if there was any damage caused by all this, it was already done, so there was no hurt in trying.
'You're hot granger, and I wasn't you to model for my drawings,' Draco muttered in a rush. Hermione flushed with pleasure and hid herself behind her matted hair, even though she knew perfectly well Malfoy couldn't see her. So he was slightly attracted to her! She grinned evilly, surprised at herself, wanting more of that honeyed flattery. It wasn't every day Malfoy sucked up to a muggle, and she knew it must be pure torture for him. So she called to him, sweet and innocently, 'What's that Malfoy? I couldn't hear you.'
'You're hot so just model for me, okay?' he almost shouted. Draco's voice cracked as he realized anyone could have heard that. He nervously glanced through the hallways. No one was there, but that didn't mean no one had heard. Biting his lip, he decided to be thankful that if anyone had, they wouldn't know it was Granger he was taking to.
Hermione thought about it for a minute. Let's be logical about the situation, shall we? What could Malfoy do to use this to his own advantage? Well for one, he could take advantage of her when they were alone, but she doubted that would happen anytime soon. He could draw something naughty and post it up all over the school, but then people might find out about his girly little secret. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of anything wrong with saying yes. Her lust might have just been getting in the way of her better judgment, but when that thought crossed her mind she told her brain to shut it.
'Yes,' she said happily. 'Yes, I will.'
'Good,' Malfoy said, once again in his trademark drawl. 'I'll meet you in the Room of Requirement tonight, ten sharp. Bring no one, say nothing, or else the deal is off.'
'Why should I care if the deal is off?' Hermione asked, slightly incensed. 'It was you who wanted me to model in the first place!'
'Sure it was, Granger,' Malfoy smirked, strutting off down the hall. Hermione poked her head out of the portrait hole and waited till he was gone. Then, seething, she climbed out and thundered off. How dare he? Selfish, cocky, bloody jerk. She barely knew where he feet were taking her, but somehow she ended up staring at the Fat Lady's wobbling double chin.
'Pixie dust,' she snapped, scrambling into the common room as the portrait hole swung open.
'Whoa, Hermione, what's your problem?' Ron shouted as Hermione stormed towards the girl's dormitories, knocking over he and Harry's chess game along the way.
She was seriously considering not going, setting Malfoy up. She grinned at the thought of him sitting there for hours, wondering where the hell Hermione was. And then, doodling to pass the time, getting a paper cut, a very bad one, a fatal one...
She was also shocked when it hit her that he could set her up as well. She could go and find him absent. She bet that was what he planned, to make her lose sleep. To humiliate her. But he had sounded sincere when he asked her... She flopped down onto her bed and shrieked into her pillow. Why did Malfoy have to be so impossible? She glanced over at her watch...not that she actually planned to go, she was just curious as to how long she had kept him waiting.
It wasn't even eight yet. She rolled over and slid her bookbag from underneath her, and poked around in it. Hermione figured if she was going to loiter around, she might as well do something constructive. She pulled out her Arithmacy textbook, since it looked like she had more homework of that than anything else. It was, in fact, just about ten by the time she finished. She stared at her watch, willing it to go faster. Five past...ten past...No! not fast enough! This was so boring. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself opening the door to the softly lit Room of Requirement.
'You're late,' Malfoy sneered as she stumbled in.