Disclaimer: I just enjoy living in the amazing world J. K. R. creates :)
A/N ~ You guys make me enjoy writing! We even broke the 3 reviews a chapter habit – we got 4! :D Each review you guys submit makes my day just that much brighter – thank you all so much, this one goes out again to all you reviewers, alerters and favouriters! 3.
"Blaise. Goyle. Girls." Malfoy sat down at his normal place, between Pansy and Astoria with Blaise, Goyle and Nicky, the daughter of one his mother's close work friends, opposite. His attention, however, was on the curly-haired girl laughing too loudly over at the Gryffindor table. Hermione'd rushed out this morning before he'd had time to so much lift his head up from his pillow and wrench his sleep-glued eyes open.
"Who you lookin' at?" Blaise asked sullenly, stabbing his bacon with his fork vigorously. Malfoy hardly noticed, rolling his eyes as Hermione gave Hermione's Horse Snort ©, and earned a slightly scared look from that other Weasel girl sat with her.
"Hm? None of your business." he replied sharply when he noticed the other boy watching him. He shovelled a sausage in his mouth to prevent further questioning. Astoria wrapped her arms around his neck.
"We've got a free period first..." she pressed herself against him suggestively, contorting herself quite impressively. Tempting as he found her not-so-subtle hints...
"I have plans," he told her coldly, watching her face fall dispassionately.
"Oh... Um, okay." She stood up suddenly, almost knocking her plate off her table. "Pansy, Nicky, coming? I want to freshen up before Viktor gets here... Bye."
Draco nodded, barely paying attention: Astoria having several boyfriends at a time wasn't new to him. In fact, it was a surprise when he was the only one, but that had only ever been once, and for an hour. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't have his own friends... with benefits.
Although, Jenna had texted him last night, and, whereas he'd normally jump at the opportunity, he'd declined as impolitely as he was famous for. His mind was too full of that... girl to even attempt a night with somebody else.
"What world are you living in?" Blaise was strangely bold today with all these questions. Goyle was silent as ever, the Human Food Annihilator. Draco gave him his second best scowl, the one he reserved for when someone was interrupting his mind just enough to be worthy of his fleeting attention. His number one scowl, the one he liked to practice in the mirror just because it made him feel scary, was only ever flashed when someone was being particularly annoying, and normally they pushed off to go knit, or whatever they did in their spare time when they received it. Which, of course, was the goal.
"A world you can't even dream of with your limited imagination," he eventually replied, before standing up carefully, making sure the little package he was holding in his hand was full obscured by his cloak. "I'm going to... enjoy myself."
He didn't let himself ponder what the boys would make of that, smirking and striding off before Blaise could comment in his annoyingly confident mood. They wouldn't, though, guess where he was really going.
It smelled... like books. Eurgh, why would anyone in their right mind go to the library in their free period? He'd been acting weird all morning, even for him, as Hermione would put it. He pulled his cloak around him self-conciously: if anyone saw him here, he'd be forced to hex them into next week. And he was far too tired for that, after such a sleepless night. Surreptitiously, he scurried as swiftly and quietly as he could to the far corner of the room, where he was sure no one would see him. There was a small desk pushed right up against the wall with bookcases surrounding it, so he decided that it would do.
It was plastered in various graffitti, hearts and that sort of shit. One statement caught his eye though: Property of H.G., stay away! So this was her recluse. Well, her old recluse it seemed, seeing how she'd taken over 'their' balcony. Funny. He'd never pegged her as the type to go around denouncing property.
He drew his attention back to his secret fetish; he pulled his hands out from within his cloak, along with the black novel he'd taken to secreting around constantly. Twilight.
It was purely for educational reasons, though, of course. Now, instead of just cynically dissecting the writing, he was going to search it for ideas on how to sweep a particular girl off her feet. Hermione seemed like the, uh, romantic type... not that he'd know.
It wasn't like he was reading it because he wanted to.
Of course not.
It was like slow torture.
Right.
"I got your runaway smile in my piggy-bank baby, gonna cash it right in for a new Mercedes, you were worth the hundred thousand miles..." Hermione sang her heart out as she rubbed shampoo through her horrible curls, resisting the urge to dance along to her tuneless voice. It'd been a long day, especially seeing as Harry was off competing at another school in the Quidditch Nationals. Ron'd gone with him, of course, but with his current attitude, it hardly made a difference. The water was nice, warm, but not too hot. Iy felt it was cleansing her, washing all her troubles away.
And, who doesn't sing in the shower?
She was working her way up to an amazing chorus of Misery Business by Paramore (rock music was her extremely secret passion, not that anyone ever knew what she was singing anyway. One, no one ever heard her, and two, they were muggle bands) when she heard someone shouting.
"I didn't know you liked rock, Granger. And I'm not talking about the hard substance people like to throw at Weasel's head." Hermione gave one of those snorts that'd been plaguing her recently. Completely against her will, of course, because it was not funny in the slightest. Plus, she was still mad at Malfoy for everything he'd said before. One not-funny-at-all comment wasn't going to fix all the insults he'd thrown at her without a second thought. So she ignored him, and continued on with her Paramore tribute.
She was just humming the opening riff to Ignorance when Malfoy interrupted her.
"Granger, much as you wish, the shower is not a stage, and the sound of the toilet flushing is not a clapping audience begging for more. Hurry up, I need to pee."
Hermione shook her head, trying not to smile and failing. She burst into Go Away by Delain, hoping Draco would get the message.
"Oh, ha ha Granger, I'm just about dying of laughter. How childish?" Hermione giggled. She didn't feel like herself, almost like she was high off the hot steam wrapping it's warm, wet fingers around her in the small enclosed space.
After a few more minutes, just to torture him that much more, she emerged from the en suite bathroom, wrapped in her soft dressing gown with her lavender pyjamas underneath. Her hair hung in sodden rat-tails around her face; her brown eyes looked huge without the curls obscuring them as usual.
Draco just stared at her for a moment, taking it all in. She looked strangely... beautiful. Not fit, like he was always calling Astoria, or Nicky or someone, but... beautiful.
Then he remembered his plan.
He gazed at her as intently as he could, trying to make his eyes smoulder.
Yes, he was going for the dazzling technique. What else? If a hundred year-old pervert vampire could manage it, why shouldn't he be able to? Hermione stared back for a moment, her eyebrows twisting in confusion. Then she looked a little alarmed.
"Are you okay?" She moved very quickly away from the bathroom door, as if to clear the way. "I didn't realise, I'm so sorry!" Draco just stared at her for a moment, puzzled.
"What?" He finally said.
"You look... well... You aren't..."
"What? Spit it out already!"
"You just..."
"WHAT?"
"Constipated! Happy?" She dissolved into laughter at Malfoy's horrified expression, forgetting her momentary annoyance.
Malfoy shook his head, slightly amazed. Epic fail, he thought irritatedly to himself. Still, she looked... happy. She wasn't acting like the Hermione he knew, she was acting more like she had on the train, in the carriage that time... For once she wasn't surrounded by a million textbooks, or dragged down by Weasel's temperamental mood... She was just laughing freely.
Who knew a shower could have that effect on one of the world's biggest tight-arses?
That night, he slept with a smile on his face: plan number two was a real winner.
A/N ~ Can anyone guess the first song Hermione was singing? Shout-out/dedication if you can! I LOVE the band that sings it! :) Hope you enjoyed that!
If you feel like really making my day, review!
~Hayley xx