~.~.~.~.~
The piece of paper fell out of my Charms textbook into my lap.
With caution, I opened it.
Have you seen McLaggen today? He's a bit blue. Or rather, his balls are.
The lettering disappeared as soon as I'd read it.
I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips, but immediately slapped my hand over my mouth, as we were in the middle of class. Fortunately, no one paid any attention to me as Flitwick was talking again about the day's lesson.
I shoved the note under my book, but there was enough of it peeking out that I could see if my mysterious new friend—Malfoy, I suspected, as he was the only one who knew what had happened yesterday to my stalker—wrote more. Then, I turned back to the day's lesson.
By the end of class, I noted there was more scribbling on the blank piece of parchment. Apparently, it had a Concealing and Revealing Charm on it that was attuned only to me, for the moment I brushed my fingers across the paper, writing appeared on it.
I'm bored. Entertain me, Granger.
Yes, it was definitely Malfoy writing to me.
After our bizarre bonding moment last night, I'll admit to being curious as to what he was really after here. Slytherins never did anything without ulterior motive. Was this all a game invented by Parkinson in an attempt to lure me in and humiliate me further using her boyfriend, or was this just Draco out for a laugh at my expense?
I decided to play along and find out.
I hurried out of the room and into an empty side classroom, got out my quill and ink, and scribbled a response.
Malfoy? Is that you?
A few moments later, the reply came back, and I could just hear that snarky arsehole's voice saying what was being written before my eyes.
No, it's the Lord of Nightmares. Yes, it's me, Granger. Who else would charm paper to get your attention around here?
It was difficult to resist a smile as he attempted to be charming.
Why aren't you in class? I asked.
Break until 1pm. Until then, it's up to you to make sure my brain doesn't melt.
I chuckled. He was quite the cheeky monkey, wasn't he?
I've never heard of a spell that can cause your grey matter to spontaneously liquefy, so I'm assuming your problem is environmental?
His reply was immediate, and I could almost feel his irritation.
I'm forced to watch Blaise obsessively mope over the She-Weasel. You know that redheaded Gryffindor Chaser? He's completely arse over kettle for her. It's nauseating.
I snorted.
No more nauseating than watching you and Parkinson hang all over each other.
His response was predictable.
Jealous?
Keep dreaming.
Keep giving me things to dream about.
That made me frown.
What does that even mean?
It means, my sexy little snakette, that since the first time we met, thoughts of you have given my hand quite the work-out at night.
"Ew."
I threw the quill down.
Immediately, I picked it back up.
Pig.
He was quick to reply again.
It's perverted to admit I find you attractive?
Alright, he had a point. Still, thinking that he was masturbating to thoughts of me, a complete stranger really, was crossing the line.
We don't even know each other!
Isn't that rather the point of this note play? We talk, we learn.
Being lecherous is not talking, I argued.
It's not? Alright then, how has your day been so far? Is that better?
Now I was even more uncomfortable. It almost seemed too personal to tell him even the most mundane of my private thoughts.
Why aren't you studying? I asked, attempting to distract the conversation away from me. We have N.E.W.T.s this year. You should be preparing for those.
I'd much rather hear about your day.
Your life must be quite dull.
Did you miss the part where I said I was watching Zabini mope for fun?
Now I did laugh out loud. Malfoy was amusing, despite being a twit. And he was a horrible flirt.
"It's all a game, Hermione…"
Perhaps I could play this game with him, at least until I knew what he really wanted from me. Dipping my quill into my ink pot, I pressed its tip to the charmed parchment and began to write.
My day's been interesting so far…
TO BE CONTINUED...