A/N: Sorry, sorry, I should have updated way, way sooner. You may throw things at me if you feel it necessary.
Chapter 10: If you fight with walls, you will lose, period
The nerve of that boy, Hermione stormed in her head. How dare he have the audacity to disturb her musings and daydreamings with his stupid, blonde, handsome, intelligent face? She mentally slapped herself. Bad brain, very bad brain, she raged in her mind as she beat herself some more through thought. Slamming her books down on the table in her favorite section of the library, she threw herself into a chair and fumed over his stupid, stupid face. The curios faces of Harry and Ron appeared across the table from her as they plopped down in chairs, ready for the study session she had forgotten she had agreed to. She slammed open a book, aware of their wary glances, and began to furiously write, her quill flashing back and forth across the page. Why was she so angry?
"Uh, Hermione, I think you need a break. If you write any harder I think the paper might begin to scream," Ron quipped.
"Oh, do shut up, Ron. As if you would understand anything that goes on in my life that does not revolve around you and this little world we live in at Hogwarts. So, just shut up and leave me alone, unless your penis happens to have fallen off during the night and you are now a proclaimed girl, I doubt very much whether or not you would ever understand my deep-seeded hatred of boys in general at the moment or the fact that you are a twit." She seethed. The boys sat, shocked, wide-eyed across the table from her.
"Uh," Harry managed.
Hermione threw her things into her bag and stormed from the library, students staring at her as she went by. Head down, breathing harsh, she walked quickly down the plethora of halls, not exactly knowing where she was going. Her progress was impeded, however, when she ran smack into a stone wall. Falling backwards with a small yell, her head made an audible crack against the solid floor.
"Darling, as much as I love to play knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress, we have to stop meeting like this." Drestin knelt above her, the shadows of a handful of other students behind him, gathering her scattered things.
Hermione laughed, stopping quickly when the pain in her head surged and her vision swam. Everything hurt, she decided. Like a baby, Drestin lifted her and began to walk with her to the infirmary, calling orders to his friends over his shoulder. They followed behind him with Hermione's belongings in their hands. She rested her aching, pain-filled head on his chest, hearing his heart beat throb in time with her own. Although pained, she was content, she decided, although she really should have been watching where she was going in the first place, she mentally scolded herself. Madame Pomphrey raised an eyebrow as Drestin and his entourage entered the infirmary.
"Put her on a bed, Mr. McConnell, and then clean yourself off in the basin by he door, you're coated in blood," said Madame Pomphrey, rummaging through the medical supplies in her cupboards.
Hermione groaned as he set her down on the nearest bed, her head throbbing, the blood that was flowing down her face finding escape into her mouth through her moaning lips. Madame Pomphrey, tapped her want to the girl's nose, said a few words, and covered her ears, wincing as Hermione screamed at the top of her voice as he nose popped back into it's original, correct position. The older, matronly woman gave her a drink of potion and told her to stay lying down until she gave her permission to leave. Hermione didn't need to be told twice. The large bump on the back of her skull attested to the fact that she did indeed not have a concussion. Drestin pulled a chair up to her bedside, looking down at her as he mindlessly shoved the hair back out of his eyes. His following put Hermione's things at her feet on the bed, mumbling about essays and homework as they left.
"If I may be so bold as to ask, why did you run into a wall?" Drestin asked her, looking at her with curiosity.
"I didn't mean to," Hermione answered. "It just sort of got in my way, I guess."
He laughed at her words, smiling as she gave him a weak smile in return, pleased to have made him laugh. "Do you want me to go get one of those people you hang out with to come up here and sit with you or walk you back? Really, I don't mind doing it. I'm sure I can find them somewhere around here."
"No, it's alright, I can make it back by myself."
"Oh, no, I don't think so, little missy. There's no way I'm going to let you go anywhere by yourself tonight. For all I know, the walls might bite you this time, and where would you be without me to help keep you out of more painful trouble?" She smiled at him.
"Miss Granger, you may go now, but if you feel sick at any time during the night, please send someone to get me, I don't want to have a braindead student in the morning."
Drestin slung her bag over his shoulder, amid a shower of protests, then grabbed her arm and held it to help her keep her tentative balance as they began the walk to Griffindor Tower and her rooms.
"Hermione, are you as much as klutz as you seem, or is this whole show for the benefit of others?" He smiled.
"Oh, do, shut up, Drestin. Maybe I do do it for the pleasure of others." She smiled sheepishly.
The walk ended and all too soon she was staring at the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Miss Granger, may I ask you a rather delicate question?" He was still holding her hand.
"I suppose you may, but you do know I need that hand back before you leave? It's the one I write with."
"Would you be interested in spending some time with me, you know getting to know me and such? Maybe one thing would lead to another and you would find you fall madly in love with me." He smiled, hopefully.
"Actually, I think I'd like that."
His smile was genuine as he turned and left her for the safety and comfort of his own common room, the pleasure of triumph on his face.