I will not wear my 'Deatheater and Proud of it' shirt to school.
Draco Malfoy was if nothing else, creative in his ideas for getting attention.
First the execution of that horrible bird, then the 'Potter Stinks' badges, and lets not forget his favorite 'Weasley is our king' anthem. It was in this line of thinking that Draco came to the conclusion that if he were to out stubborn Hermione Granger, he was going to have to play dirty.
That would explain the pureblood pride shirt he was currently wearing, sitting in the Head common room feet propped up on the Head girl's desk waiting for her to come down for breakfast. He made sure to position himself so the logo on his back was at its best advantage to read from Hermione's morning routine.
Draco was irrefutably convinced that if this 'Deatheater and Proud of it' shirt failed to get a rise out of Granger nothing would.
---
At ten past nine Hermione emerged from her room with a bright smile. She had forgiven her friends some weeks ago and though she was still ignoring her counter part in Head duties, as soon as he apologized she was ready to forgive him as well.
It had been a surprise to see Draco waiting for her. Perhaps he had finally came to his sense and was ready to supply that cold, and insincere apology that she had been waiting three weeks to hear.
But alas, if one thing was certain Draco Malfoy never disappointed.
One look at the back of his black tee told her as much.
Fine, Hermione thought, if he was going to resort to being an arse then she would have to teach him an important lesson in wardrobe edict.
Continuing to ignore him, Hermione walked the length of the room in determined strides.
Draco could feel his heart in his throat, not daring to turn around at her approaching figure. He had known this would work. She was walking so purposely toward him that he was sure a lecture was about to explode from her.
Hermione did not tell Draco off for his choice in clothes or break her on going act of ignoring him. In a very simple and hurried motion Hermione leaned over the back of the Malfoy heir and collected her books from the desk before turning and rushing out of the room for a spot of breakfast.
She touched me. Was the first logical thought in Draco's head after the incident. He had been so desperate for some kind of recognition from Hermione that he was now stunned and at a lost for he had truly wanted.
It was not a simple innocent touch that implied he could just as well of been a bloody chair, no Draco had wanted passion. He had wanted his ears blistered for the cheek in claiming such a bigotry stance, a stance that she knew he did not support.
It had been a truly thought out plan, that backfired and Draco was now faced with two options;
Option number one: He could go up to his room, change, go down to breakfast and come up with a new plan to elevate Granger's temper.
Option number two: He could go out in this stupid shirt, be subjected to the masses anger and possible expulsion just to get the rise he needed out of Granger.
Perhaps, she had not thought he would venture beyond the Head Common Room with such a shirt. Maybe she didn't get a proper look at what his shirt proclaimed. Yes, it was to Draco's undoing shame that he picked option number two.
---
Hermione sat at her house table between her two best friends. Ron was shoveling his face full of egg to her left, while Harry chatted her up on her right. She had made the pair move to the opposite side of the table when she arrived, wanting a front row set to Malfoy's demise. No one crossed Hermione Granger and got away unscratched, no one.
"Are you going to the pitch with us today, 'Mione?" Harry asked standing. Ron grabbed a piece of toast before he too rose, ready to follow Harry out. That was when Hermione took hold of both boy's sleeves yanking them back down.
Just then the large double doors to the Great Hall opened, a lanky blond with a pointed chin strutting in.
"No yet. You won't want to miss this." She told her friends as they settled back down in their seats.
"What did you do?" Ron asked following her eye line to the ferret.
Hermione grinned unmercifully as she watched Justin Finch-Fletchley pitch Draco's derriere.
Harry just about chocked on his laughter, while Ron looked mildly disturbed.
---
Draco, did not act as polite. He jumped in surprise turning around to come face to face with a sultry smiling Huffenpuff bloke. "What the hell, Fletchley? What are you a fag?" The Slytherin Head boy yelled in disgust. Justin licked his lips. "Yes, Draco. Your not alone." He proclaimed lunging at the Head boy. Draco's eyes widened in fear as he spun out of reach pulling out his wand and stunning the Huffenpuff. Justin fell to the floor, the whole room fell silent watching.
Draco was confused. He was not gay, and as far as he was aware had never insinuated such a thing. He stood looking around as the student population watched him, facial reactions ranging from shock, disappointment, horror, lust, and smug…wait. His eyes landed on Hermione's haughtily mouth. Thinking back to this morning Draco realized his mistake.
Quickly and uncaring Draco pulled his shirt off revealing his tone and pasty muscled chest. Untangling the fabric Draco read the silver letters on the back, 'Homosexual and Proud of it'. His lips curled in a most frightening sneer as he threw the offensive garment to the floor. His silver eyes clouding over as he looked up to once more find Granger.
But, she along with her boys had disappeared.
Hermione Granger had touched him this morning, on purpose. He had to hand it to her she was a opportunist little bint.
"Listen Draco if your free tonight, I would love to cook you dinner." a very male Ravenclaw asked. The Ravenclaw lad's nerve was somewhat admirable as a low growl erupted from Draco's lips before punching the boy in the face.
"I am not a Homosexual. The next block that hits on me will be 'Avaed' got it?" Draco yelled while looking around to witness many students nodding in understanding. "Good! Now, who saw which way the Head girl went?" He asked in a very intimidating sexing drawl. Every index finger in the hall pointed to the trophy room door. Draco grinned wickedly strutting purposely and shirtless towards the exit.