{This chapter is dedicated to Sarah (mc_shizzle_leo on Instagram!) Martha and I have converted her to the wonders of Dramione! There is a poll on our profile; who do you guys think Harry should end up with? Martha thinks Ron or Pansy... What do you think? Vote to get your opinion into the story! Also, Steps now has 27 reviews! Can we get it to 30, pretty please? Love you guys, on with the story! Maia xx}
Harry was exhausted.
He was supposed to be focusing on the clue to the first task, not obsessing over his best friend! Yet his mind still disobeyed, straying to crazy thoughts of Hermione, Hermione, Hermione...
How her hair smelt, all dark and wonderful, like woodsmoke...
How her eyes would twinkle when she'd got full marks, yet again...
Even the crinkle between her brows as she told him and Ron off for being irresponsible was suddenly oddly... Hot...
Damn it! He strode into the prefects' bathroom, towel in hand, glaring at the limpid water sparkling annoyingly. Cedric had told him to try the bath... Why? How?!
He got out of his robes and left them on the marble bench, cut smoothly into the wall like a slide for gnomes. Harry turned around, shrieking in not-so-manly terror as he saw Moaning Myrtle perving on him from through the changing cubicle door. She giggled coyly, beckoning with her little finger. "Aren't you comiiing~?" The ghost sang, leering at him quite disturbingly. "The water's nice and waaaarm..."
Horrified (and hoping desperately that Myrtle wasn't attempting to seduce him), Harry gulped, walking through to the pool, careful to let his hands cover everything of importance. Behind him, the teenage spirit pouted, zigzagging through the air, complaining at the lack of a "view".
That alone was enough to make him consider whether this clue was really important enough to risk his sanity (and perhaps virginity, depending on how much of a creeper Myrtle was, the darker part of his mind reminded him). He shuddered at the thought. Stay calm, stay calm... Think of 'Mione...
Harry took a deep breath and took the plunge...
THEN HE AND RON GOT IT AAAWWN IN THE PREFECTS BATHROOM *insert John laugh*
...
{Right. Sorry. That was Martha. I apologise for her atrocious behaviour... Carry on?}
Hermione dashed up the stairs, cursing in as many tongues as she knew. Something was definitely wrong if Hermione Granger was swearing in any language, but in Troll? That was usually the signal to run...
A bright white flash blinded her momentarily and she staggered, crashing headlong into something - someone. The light burst into her tired vision again and she winced, clutching onto the other person dizzily. They, whoever they were, seemed to be as unused to the light as her, perhaps worse, clinging to her tightly.
Suddenly, a laugh cut into the air, followed by a long wolfwhistle.
Peeves. Hermione angrily tried to blink the white out of her eyes, glaring around her.
"Aww, sweet... Mangy Grangy has a lickle Ferret boyfriend..." The poltergeist howled with laughter, swooping away. "PEEVES!" Roared the person who's arms were currently tight around her middle. Damn! Hermione's mind cleared; eyes shooting wide open with horror.
Malfoy. That's who she was holding. Another laugh; female this time, high and giggly, oddly menacing. Hermione felt him twist violently in her arms to face the intruder.
When the flash came this time, she was prepared. She ignored it with no trouble, instead focusing her attention on the person beside the camera. "Beautiful! Such forbidden, dangerous love... Won't your father be cross, dear? Tomorrow's Daily Prophet will be our most read edition, I'll make sure of it! Ciao, sweeties!" Shaking with rage, Draco gripped Hermione's waist so hard she was sure she'd have bruises by lunch as they both watched the platinum blonde curls of Rita Skeeter bobbing away down the corridor.
{Review? Those that don't will be creeped on by Myrtle... Muahahahaha...}