Chapter 28:
Devotion, Not Obsession, Thank You Very Much
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They really weren't very good at scheming, Pansy decided with a resolute nod. They were Slytherins for God's sake- they were supposed to be! But, alas…they just couldn't sit still long enough to think of anything remotely diabolical.
Draco was off on another monologue about his "utterly delicious Gryffindor Weasley King-", Crabbe and Goyle were having a serious discussion over…something. What, Pansy couldn't tell, though if the licking of their lips and the random bursts of mutterings like "So good!" and "Simply delectable!" were anything to go by, they were talking about food…or shagging.
Pansy shook the horrifying image out of her head and turned to her last hope of sanity in the Slytherin Commons- Terrence Higgs. Eh, who was staring at her?
"Uh-"she blushed furiously and cleared her throat, looking away from the tempting sight. Sadly, this did not stop her from squealing loudly like a fangirl- but she couldn't help it! After all, he was wearing his mussed Quiddich robes thrown open, revealing a nearly skin-tight shirt and precariously low trousers. What self-respecting girl could resist?
'Stay true to Colin…Colin…Colin…Ah, just another inch and- NO! Naughty, naughty Pansy! Mmm, I think I need to be spanked- Ack! No no no no nonononononono…'
Terrence watched in amusement as Pansy blushed and muttered to herself- honestly, she was just too easy to fluster.
He leaned back into the couch and then arched his back in a stretch, making sure to expose another half-inch of his mid-drift. At her poorly covered gasp, he looked back to her face, using his patented 'Smoldering-Stare-Of-Smut', smirking in satisfaction as her face turned an interesting shade of purple.
Barely still breathing, Pansy stared at the edge of his trousers, silently willing then to slip another half-inch, and vainly restraining a frustrated growl when they stayed stationary.
'Wait, think about Colin…Rhymes with Bolin…Which looks like Balin…Root of which is Ball…s. Oh dear God! Think, think! What would Granger do? Ah…'
She attempted to fight down the blush and faced him, feeling as if she was staring Satan in the face, "Good Arithmancy lesson today, eh?"
Terrence regarded her with something akin to pity- "Pansy, you don't take Arithmancy."
"Ah- I…erm. I heard about the lesson." She exhaled shakily and offered him a sheepish smile, which on her pug-like face, really resembled more of a grimace.
He smile patronizingly at her, "Yes, it was a good lesson." A chuckle then: "I'm not taking Arithmancy."
"Oh," she blinked, "Muggle Studies was fascinating as well."
An exasperated sigh was his only response.
"So, it's decided then."
A nod.
"Right- Irving the Irritable is out."
A grunt.
"Urg the Unagreeable?"
Grunt.
"Out then."
Mumble.
"What's that you say?"
Mumble mumble.
"Eh- I think that one's been taken."
Grumble.
"Ah, me too."
Grunt.
"So…"
Grunt.
"Meet back here tomorrow, maybe? Same time?"
Grunt- and then a nod. An odd combination, Terrence decided, one that Harry hadn't yet used to ignore him with yet.
'Oh joy…' was the only thought that came to mind, as the Slytherin left the library and anticipated their next meeting.
"Zabini, I don't see why you find this all that amusing."
He turned to glance at her- taking in her pouting lips, her flushed cheeks, the fire that seemed to burn in her eyes-... Shaking his head, he turned back to the couple he-they- were spying on.
"Come now, Granger, where's your sense of adventure?"
"Back with my sanity," she replied wryly, looking back longingly at the Great Hall, "And with my lovely Pork Roast."
"Oh come now," he smiled and motioned for her to keep it down, "I heard it was dry- dreadful stuff it is, your arteries will clog."
Just a bit irritated- bordering on homicidal, actually-, she 'sshh'ed him, and scooted closer to the couple.
"'Zabini,' he mocked in a falsetto, 'I don't see why you find this all that amusing.'"
She scowled at him, throwing a hand over his mouth, muttering a fond "Bastard…" under her breath.
Smirking, he pushed away the hand, ignoring her outraged exclamation at him having pushed it away with his tongue. Instead, he treated her to a "Hush," and darted across the aisle to hide behind a disgruntled fourth year attempting to study for O.W.L.S.
"I don't bloody care- can't you see I love-"
"No, I won't hear of it-"
"NO! You must listen- ever since you saved me…from myself. I wanted to end it. This whole damned life of study study study!"
"Ahem…well this is awkward."
"Awkward? I love you and you find this awkward?"
"Just a smidge."
"You-you-"
"I'm sorry, but another has already captured my heart." He then proceeded to ramble on about chestnut locks and clear cinnamon eyes, intelligence that knew no bounds and talent to make Merlin turn over in his grave.
The girl opposite him, with her own dull dark brown hair and murky hazel eyes, fumed as her rivals attributes escaped the lips of her obsession.
"Hermione Granger- you will pay for this blasphemy!"
A couple shelves over, the one-and-only Hermione Granger whimpered and clung to Blaise's sleeve like a lifeline.
"Oh Merlin," she wheezed, "There's a psycho wanting to off me."
Blaise glanced at the still fuming brunette across the library- Mandy Brocklehurst was obsessive, yes. But frightening?
Seeing her stab a book she had hastily labeled 'Hermione', and then growl off a flustered Madame Pince- he decided that now would be a good time to escape while they still had their lives.
Of course, Terry Boot remained blissfully oblivious during the entire encounter, glad to have finally found someone to share his own deep and tragic love with.
"Oh that's lovely Mandy! You've made a portable 'Hermione' for me- now I can bring her with me wherever I go…Erm. I don't think the holes quite do her lovely freckles justice though."
"They're pocks."
"Ah…Perfect Hermione doesn't have pocks, Mandy."
"No, she does. They're dreadful. She has to wear gallons of makeup to conceal them."
Blaise choked as Hermione clawed out of his grip to get to the "thieving, conniving little bitch, that Brocklehurst…"
He bit his lip and yanked her back out into the hall, leaving Mandy to exult her own smooth clear skin and wouldn't Terry like to stroke it?
Terry replied that no, he wouldn't, for her skin could never compare the milky soft texture of his Hermione's- as once, during Arithmancy he had brushed her hand and it was simply divine, all skin-like and he bet it would taste like vanilla or cocoa-
Mandy just sat there and every once in a while interjected a comment about Hermione's arthritis and rheumatism…and didn't she have the frizziest hair he had ever seen?
To which Terry's reply was outraged and quite devoted…and of course, much too dull to display here. Tsk, tsk. He should be more like Hermione- divine, lovely, oh so quick-witted Hermione…
Mandy kicked the table, barely comprehending the stinging pain in her foot as it was overshadowed by a greater pain in her heart. With God as her witness, Hermione Granger would pay for stealing Terry away from her! The Brocklehurst family did not give up easily- her own Uncle Francis spent weeks stalking his own son's prospective wife, saying he had to make sure she was good enough for his little boy. Granted, a month before the wedding, he had run off with the girl to an odd place called 'Ve-Gas' to marry her and then ditch her for a showgirl from a local casino…but at least he was steadfast about the whole thing!
Ah…did she mention that mental instability also ran in the family? Oh, no worries, it only appeared in seventy-five percent of the women as opposed to ninety-eight percent in the men. That was bloody optimistic, when she considered it seriously. No, it most certainly wasn't the fire-whiskey she was sneaking under the table talking. It was her, Mand-ee Brocckkleeeehuurssssssst! Whee…
With a sound 'plop!', she dropped to the ground in a dead faint, leaving Terry to discuss the wonders of Hermione's new socks with his newly-named 'mini-Hermione'- the aptly labeled 'Hermione' book Mandy had so kindly bestowed upon him. He should really get that girl a Christmas present this year considering she was so thoughtful…
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