I own nothing but the plot.
May 26th, 1999
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, MALFOY, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" Ginny Weasley pounded on the portrait frame, the disgruntled occupants shaking their fists at her. "Shut it, you," she groused at the portrait, fist hammering at the edge again.
Inside the Head Common Room, Hermione yawned as she made her way down the stairs from her bedroom, a scarlet silk robe wrapped around her body. Stifling a yawn, she wondered what the problem was. Ginny's thumping had roused her from sleep, and she had no clue what the redhead wanted at five in the morning.
"I SWAER TO FUCKING CHRIST OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW!" Ginny's voice floated through again, followed by the sounds of more thumping. Hermione was almost glad that the password had changed last night since that was the only thing that had stopped Ginny from storming in.
"What's her problem?" Draco gave a yawn of his own as he made his way down the last few stairs, a pair of loose sleep pants the only thing he wore, the black ink dragon that covered his arm and shoulder clearly visible. Hermione swallowed as she took him in, imagining running her fingers through his tousled blonde hair, imagining what it would be like to kiss her way down his rather toned chest and abdomen. "I know, Granger, I'm irresistible, but the she-weasel is ruining my morning," he smirked, knowing full well that the brunette witch had been shamelessly checking him out.
Blushing bright red, Hermione tore her gaze from the wizard, doing her best to distract herself by answering Ginny. Reaching the portrait, she grabbed the handle and twisted it, opening the entrance for the irate redhead.
"Ginny, what the fuck happened to your hair?" Hermione couldn't help but stare, her jaw dropping at the sight in front of her.
"HIM! HE HAPPENED!" Ginny pointed an accusing finger at Draco as she stormed in, her usually bright red hair now a vibrant emerald green.
"I was sleeping, Weasley," Draco smirked as he leaned against the bannister of his staircase, arms folded over his chest.
"THE CURSE CAME WITH A MEMO YOU ABSOLUTE TWAT!" Ginny seethed, her wand out threateningly. Coming to her senses, Hermione finally managed to close her mouth and moved to intercept the irate witch before they had to witness her infamous bat-bogey hex.
"Woah, woah! Gin, calm down! Go have a shower, wash your hair, use some sleekeazy's potion and let the colour fade. Use finite incantatem. It'll be fine by breakfast, I'm sure!" Hermione placed her hands on the young woman's shoulders, gently nudging her back. Ginny was still furious, but Hermione's suggestion was making sense. Huffing, Ginny allowed herself to be guided back to the portrait, but not without making a particularly vulgar hand gesture at the smirking blonde.
"Yeah, it'll fade – in 24 hours," Draco couldn't help himself, calling out the second before Hermione closed the portrait, catching Ginny's snarling face and screech of rage, his own laughter escaping.
"Honestly Draco, it's not funny! Three weeks ago we were united as a school and now we're in an all-out feud over a stupid quidditch match?" Hermione gave her own huff. The increasing level of pranks and mischief in the castle was running her off her feet, trying to put out spot scuffles and curses where she could. True to form, most of the issues were coming from Gryffindor and Slytherin, both houses to face each other the upcoming weekend for the quidditch cup – whichever team was victorious would be taking home the cup, and apparently even the Second Wizarding War wasn't enough to stop some rivalries from showing.
"You're supposed to be Head Boy, not starting half the damn problems, too!" she scowled at him, her words just making him laugh harder, the sound following her up her spiral staircase as she decided to try and reclaim a few hours of sleep before breakfast.
The Great Hall erupted into hoots of laughter as the seven members of the Gryffindor quidditch team skulked in, each one sporting the same shade of bright emerald green hair and the matching scowls to go with it. Slamming her bag down on the table, Ginny dropped into the seat besides Hermione, Dean Thomas taking the seat opposite with a beanie yanked down over his head to try and disguise the colour.
"Oh sure, just use some sleekeazy's and finite incantatem and it'll come out…" Ginny mimicked Hermione as she reached for a slice of toast, the Head Girl mostly ignoring her.
"Well, I tried!" Hermione wasn't that fussed with the comment – rivalries between the two houses had been going on for centuries and as Draco had pointed out to her this morning, they wanted things to get back to normal in the castle and this was normal to them. She did put her book down however, looking up to check out the rest of the team. "You know, that colour actually really suits Demelza…"
"This colour suits no one," Ginny huffed, shovelling eggs into her mouth now. "Fucking Draco… just he wait…"
"Wait for what? Ginny, what have you done?" Hermione sighed, the former redhead saved from answering as the beating of hundreds of wings filled the Great Hall, owls swooping in from the open upper windows to deliver mail, letters and parcels deposited in front of students. Hermione reached out and shifted her goblet of juice just in time, her usual morning copy of the Prophet landing a moment later.
Polishing off her eggs and starting on her bacon, Ginny just pointed towards the Slytherin table with her fork, a devious glint in her eyes.
"Nice work, Malfoy," Theodore Nott leaned over the table to bump his fist against Draco's as the Head Boy sat down at last.
"How'd you think Red reacted? Blaise Zabini asked as he sipped his morning coffee.
"By screaming the corridors down and pounding on my door at five in the bloody morning," Draco smirked, looking over to the Gryffindor table where the disgruntled Quidditch team were seated, each player clearly visible by their Slytherin green hair.
"Bet Granger was pissed at you, she seems like she's always got a stick shoved right up her- "
"Finish that sentence and I'll shove your broom so far up your arse that you'll be shitting splinters for a week, Vaisley," Draco snapped his head towards the younger Slytherin, the boy wisely closing his mouth and turning back to his breakfast.
"What's going on with you and Granger anyway?" Theo leaned in, his voice lowered as he asked the question that had been on his mind for a few weeks now, Blaise setting his cup down to listen.
"She's not as bad as she seems," Draco rolled his eyes.
"I heard she dumped that ginger twat," Blaise stared intently at Draco, waiting to gauge his reaction.
"Did she actually? Maybe I'll go have a chat with her. I bet she's wild in bed," Theo grinned as ire flickered on Draco's face. He didn't actually want to sleep with the Gryffindor witch, but he and Blaise had discussed more than once what was going on between their friend and the woman, having deduced months ago that she could be the only thing that had changed enough to stop Draco brooding every time he ventured down to the dungeons.
Draco was saved from answering as the post arrived, owls swooping down and passing over the tables, dropping their mail in front of the intended targets. He hadn't expected to receive anything today and reached for his juice instead, about to raise the goblet and take a sip when a pair of barn owls swooped over him, the first dropping a parcel above his head. Similar parcels fell above Blaise, Theo and Vaisley, three more falling further up the table. A foot above them, each parcel exploded in a show of red and gold fireworks, gallons of scarlet red ink falling the rest of the way and drenching all seven wizards, staining their shirts instantly, Draco's light coloured hair showing the worst of the splotched, inky damage. Without giving them a chance to react, the second owl over each boy swept down and released a tube, more fireworks exploding in the hall as golden glitter rained down, settling into the ink and covering each of the seven Slytherin quidditch players in shining red and gold, laughter ringing out from the three other tables.
Draco rose from his seat after a moment, rage written clearly over his face, hands clenched into fists tight enough that the fork he held in his left hand bent. A hushed silence settled over the Great Hall as every student and more than a few of the staff watched with baited breaths as Draco opened his mouth.
"WEASLEY!"
