Chapter 8
Draco dashed down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, the festively- adorned gift stuffed securely under his robes. With any luck, everyone else would still be at Hogsmeade, or at least on their way back, and he could hide this damn package quickly and without notice. He turned the corner down into the last corridor quickly, and slammed directly into none other than Pansy Parkinson.
Dammit...
Pansy fell back, landing with a thump on the stone floor. "Oof!" She sat up and fixed her gaze immediately onto Draco- so much for slipping away unnoticed while the girl was still dazed.
"Draco!" she squealed, grinning like a madwoman. "You're back!" She sat there for a moment, blank-faced. Then- "Aren't you going to help me up?" she pouted.
"Oh- right.." Draco extended one hand, using the other to keep the gift- wrapped bag hidden under his robe, grabbed Pansy by the wrist and yanked her up. "Sorry."
"What've you got under there?" asked Pansy coyly, pointing to his chest. "What are you hiding, Draco?" she teased in a sing-song sort of voice.
Ten more seconds of this and I'm going to kill myself, he thought.
"A new book I had to buy for one of my classes. I didn't want it to get wet," he lied. Pansy was stupid, but surprisingly tricky when it came to matters of romance. If she suspected anything...
"But it's not raining outside, Draco, I was just out there on my way back from Hogsmeade, I had such a great time, too, we saw Crabbe and Goyle at the Three Broomsticks but you weren't there and I was really surprised, but I guess you must've been in the bookshop because-"
"Pansy," he said slowly, "do me a favor."
"Ooh, what?"
"Shut the hell up."
He turned sharply and left her standing in the corridor, looking as though she'd been slapped. Draco felt quite pleased, actually, smiling self- assuredly as he strolled into the empty common room.
Then he remembered what he was doing, shut the door, and bolted down to they boys' dormitory to stash the ridiculous gift somewhere until he could figure out how to get it to Hermione without anyone else noticing.
***
Draco woke up early Monday morning. Waking up in general usually made him feel irritated, and the fact that it was only 6:00 A.M. and a Monday, a day on which he had to be in Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors in three hours, and the day on which he had chosen to somehow sneak Hermione her new bracelet, only made him feel decidedly more cranky.
He stuck his head under the covers for a moment. The present was sitting on the pillow next to him, the only place where, feeling paranoid, he had deemed it safe from discovery. The bow was a little crumpled from where he had rolled over on top of it, but otherwise it appeared to be fine.
He shoved the bag into some sort of black, leather-covered satchel-backpack thing that his mother had bought for him over the summer as a back-to- school gift. It was dusty and still stuffed with the green tissue paper the store had provided to help the bag keep its shape while out of use. It was admittedly rather nice-looking, actually, but Draco had always felt silly when he imagined himself toting it around school. Now, however, he had no choice.
Draco skipped breakfast, choosing instead to spend the time brooding in the common room. He was sick of having to look at Pansy's sad-puppy faces across the table and had to finish up a reading assignment for Astronomy, anyway. Aside from all that, he wanted to be sure the rest of the school was at breakfast before he carried out his ridiculous plan.
It involved him slipping into Professor Nightshade's classroom unnoticed and before she arrived that morning. Draco personally thought she never left the dusty room, and quite possibly slept under the desk, but he had seen her in the Great Hall for breakfast most mornings- around 7 o'clock. Another 15 minutes and he would head up to her room.
He would carefully hide a note under the chair where he knew Hermione sat. He'd already written it, on fine parchment and in inconspicuous black ink.
Dear Hermione,
If you come by the Astronomy Tower after this class, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. You don't by any chance fancy diamonds and rubies, do you? I thought you might.
Best regards, A Secret Admirer
It was contrived, silly, stupid, and cliche, which was what he had been hoping for, really. He had balked at signing it "With love", but "Sincerely" sounded too business-like. And girls loved that Astronomy Tower, lovey-dovey crap, didn't they?
Checking the time once more, he grabbed his bag- satchel- whatever the hell it was, books, and the note, and ran out to plant the gift and note before the halls began filling with students.
*** The package went into position without any problems. He wasn't seen, and it looked splendid sitting in the east window of the tower in the early morning sun. Any normal woman would love it. Whether or not that included Hermione, of course, remained to be seen.
He had just set the note under Hermione's desk (right where she would have to set her books down before being seated) and had nonchalantly begun to leave when he heard the door to Nightshade's classroom creak open. His stomach actually lurched, and he froze for a second.
In walked none other than Professor Nightshade.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She had a large stack of books which she dropped heavily onto her desk, sending up little poofs of dust into the air. "Class doesn't begin for almost another hour. I've never known you to consider punctuality a top priority."
Needanexcuseneedanexcuseneedanex-
"I was just looking for my notes from last Friday, Professor," he responded calmly, pulling out a roll of parchment from his bag. "I wanted to- to review them before class today. I remembered you saying something about a quiz."
Nightshade raised an eyebrow. "How good of you to remember, Mr. Malfoy." She paused, and smiled. "In the meantime, while you're here, you can help me sort these papers."
"Er- well, I was really planning on grabbing some breakfast first. If I have time, I'll be sure to stop by afterwards-"
Well, that was stupid. He really should be doing a bit of buttering up to Nightshade, he needed to pull a decent grade in the class and for whatever reason, Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather important as far as O.W.L.S. were concerned. Too late now. Nightshade fixed her gaze on him rather irritatedly, then nodded.
"Right, Mr. Malfoy, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all..." She glanced down at the papers scattered across her desk. "I'd get going, if I were you, anyway, considering I'm about to grade your essay test from last week. I have the strangest feeling that I won't be too pleas- "
Draco didn't need a second warning. He was out the door and headed downstairs before she ever finished the sentence.
Please don't let anyone see me carrying this bloody bag, please-
Why had he bothered to take it? He could have managed to fit the bag under his robe, couldn't he? Stupid plan... It looked like a purse, he was carrying a purse.. if anyone saw him-
"What've you got there, Malfoy?"
Draco turned around. Bloody hell, it was Potter and Weasley. "I don't have time for this, Weasley," he spat as he whisked past them.
"What's that- a purse?"
"NO, Weasel, it's not a purse, it's a dragonhide bookbag. I suppose you're not used to seeing one patched up and full of holes."
It was actually made of plain old boring leather- but hopefully Weasley couldn't tell the difference. He was all the way downstairs and in the Slytherin dungeons before Weasley bothered
Of course, dear little Potty and the Weasel would be having a field day with all of this. Well, it simply wasn't fair. Draco was supposed to be tormenting them, and not the other way around.
The things he did for lo-
NOT love, more like... a strange attraction, he reminded himself furiously.
He slumped down in a green and silver armchair near the fireplace of the common room after shoving the satchel-thing back under his bed where it belonged. He didn't feel like eating, and there was nothing to do but wait, anyway.
Chapter 9
After what seemed like two hours' wait, Draco finally cracked and allowed himself to peek at his watch, something he had been avoiding, knowing it would make the agonizing hour he had left until Defense Against the Dark Arts even more unbearable.
Ten minutes past the hour.
Damn it.
He tried pacing around the common room, he tried watching the clock, he even tried reading, but all to no avail. Finally he just sat back down and stared sullenly at his shoes, which, he noticed, could do with a good polish. Not that he'd bother with it himself. He'd leave them out later on for one of the house elves that he knew came to clean the common room every night.
Oh, bet Hermione'd love to hear that, he thought with a small smirk.
He checked his watch again. Only ten more minutes had passed.
This was getting ridiculous.
The common room was still empty. Figuring he'd better leave now, before anyone who'd forgotten a book or quill (or anyone named Pansy Parkinson, for that matter) came in. Draco was not in a mood to deal with people today. He scowled, grabbed his books and last week's homework, and dashed up the stairs, happily unseen. His plan was to head for the library. Pansy wouldn't be caught dead in there unless physically forced to (or unless she thought she might be able to share a little study session of sorts with Draco- but even someone as thick as Pansy ought to have figured out that he wanted nothing to do with her at all...), so he figured he was safe. He shoved his way past a group of tittering first years and arrived in the library rather noisily and rather out of breath, earning him a decidedly perturbed glance from Madame Pince.
Scowling at her, he dropped his books loudly on a small rickety table and sat down with a thud. The clock on the wall informed him that he had taken precisely four minutes to make it to the library. Which meant he had thirty- six minutes to go before Defense Against the Dark Arts. He would have to get there at least a few minutes early- before Hermione did, anyway. If he waited in the library for ten more minutes he should be alright.
Madam Pince was still glaring at him. Draco smiled at her, then proceeded to tap his fingers upon the table, drumming steadily. Thirty seconds later he added a bit of humming and foot-tapping.
Draco's amusement lasted only for about fifteen seconds. Madam Pince jumped out of her seat, glaring at him. The noise he'd made had been minimal, true, but in the dead silence of the library (he was the only student present, after all) you could've heard a flea drop from someone's head (someone like Weasley, Draco thought, suppressing a smirk) as clearly as you'd hear a cave troll bellowing in your ear.
Speaking of a cave troll bellowing in your ear-
"EXCUSE ME, Mr. Malfoy, but I will NOT tolerate this kind of nonsense in MY library. So I'm going to have to ask you to take Draco Malfoy's Amazing One- Man Band elsewhere before I pencil you in for detention this evening!"
Draco Malfoy's One-Man Band had a nice ring to it, he thought, collecting his bags and making his way purposefully downstairs. He'd never seen Pince get quite so.. violent. But, he supposed, everyone must snap at some point.
As he approached Nightshade's door, he began to have serious second thoughts. It was obviously too late for those, but that didn't stop his stomach from becoming all squirmy and flittery. Squirmy and flittery were not words Draco had ever used to describe any feelings he'd ever had, and he rather wished he hadn't had to start now. Perhaps he should have eaten some breakfast.
The room was nearly empty. Nightshade had apparently run off to go kill some baby bunny rabbits or whatever vile things she did in her spare time, and the only other students in the room were Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan, chatting boredly; just three Gryffindors Draco couldn't have cared less about, seated toward the middle. Draco slipped in to his usual desk- back of the room, left-hand corner.
His eyes kept darting nervously toward the door. A few Slytherins wandered in, as well as the two other Gryffindor girls, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.
Where the hell was Hermione? Less than ten minutes to go and she still hadn't shown up. Draco began to wonder if he ought to have planned something flashier than a simple note. Then he started worrying that Nightshade had seen him stick it under Hermione's desk, and had taken it or intended to use it to make a bigger fool out of Draco than he'd already managed to do to himself this past week or so.
Then Hermione strolled in, arguing with that moron Weasley, while Potter stood behind them, looking amused. At that instant Draco would have sworn on his mother's life that his stomach had just performed a back flip. Just nerves, you just don't want anyone to find out it's you that wrote the note, he told himself.
And there she was, sitting at her desk, bending forward to slide her books onto the bookrack underneath- she had spotted the note. She read it, a faint frown creasing her forehead. She looked up, scanned the room, then sat back down, slipping the note into her bag. She was still frowning slightly. She hadn't noticed him, and Potter and Weasley had no idea what had even just occured. Words couldn't describe the enormous sense of relief he felt, which was soon replaced by a knot in his stomach. Hermione might not go for it. She might think it was a trick, or be otherwise suspicious in anyway. And then, of course, the little problem that she might not like his first gift, that she would never, ever fall for him, and that his plan would fail miserably in the end after all.
Nightshade walked in, shouting as usual and brandishing an enormous pile of paperwork. "Terrible- absolutely dreadful- never seen anything like it in my ENTIRE career as a TEACHER..."
Draco scowled again, sighed, and leaned boredly against the wall, eyes half- closed. The entire situation was proving to be much more complex than he'd ever thought.
Draco dashed down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, the festively- adorned gift stuffed securely under his robes. With any luck, everyone else would still be at Hogsmeade, or at least on their way back, and he could hide this damn package quickly and without notice. He turned the corner down into the last corridor quickly, and slammed directly into none other than Pansy Parkinson.
Dammit...
Pansy fell back, landing with a thump on the stone floor. "Oof!" She sat up and fixed her gaze immediately onto Draco- so much for slipping away unnoticed while the girl was still dazed.
"Draco!" she squealed, grinning like a madwoman. "You're back!" She sat there for a moment, blank-faced. Then- "Aren't you going to help me up?" she pouted.
"Oh- right.." Draco extended one hand, using the other to keep the gift- wrapped bag hidden under his robe, grabbed Pansy by the wrist and yanked her up. "Sorry."
"What've you got under there?" asked Pansy coyly, pointing to his chest. "What are you hiding, Draco?" she teased in a sing-song sort of voice.
Ten more seconds of this and I'm going to kill myself, he thought.
"A new book I had to buy for one of my classes. I didn't want it to get wet," he lied. Pansy was stupid, but surprisingly tricky when it came to matters of romance. If she suspected anything...
"But it's not raining outside, Draco, I was just out there on my way back from Hogsmeade, I had such a great time, too, we saw Crabbe and Goyle at the Three Broomsticks but you weren't there and I was really surprised, but I guess you must've been in the bookshop because-"
"Pansy," he said slowly, "do me a favor."
"Ooh, what?"
"Shut the hell up."
He turned sharply and left her standing in the corridor, looking as though she'd been slapped. Draco felt quite pleased, actually, smiling self- assuredly as he strolled into the empty common room.
Then he remembered what he was doing, shut the door, and bolted down to they boys' dormitory to stash the ridiculous gift somewhere until he could figure out how to get it to Hermione without anyone else noticing.
***
Draco woke up early Monday morning. Waking up in general usually made him feel irritated, and the fact that it was only 6:00 A.M. and a Monday, a day on which he had to be in Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors in three hours, and the day on which he had chosen to somehow sneak Hermione her new bracelet, only made him feel decidedly more cranky.
He stuck his head under the covers for a moment. The present was sitting on the pillow next to him, the only place where, feeling paranoid, he had deemed it safe from discovery. The bow was a little crumpled from where he had rolled over on top of it, but otherwise it appeared to be fine.
He shoved the bag into some sort of black, leather-covered satchel-backpack thing that his mother had bought for him over the summer as a back-to- school gift. It was dusty and still stuffed with the green tissue paper the store had provided to help the bag keep its shape while out of use. It was admittedly rather nice-looking, actually, but Draco had always felt silly when he imagined himself toting it around school. Now, however, he had no choice.
Draco skipped breakfast, choosing instead to spend the time brooding in the common room. He was sick of having to look at Pansy's sad-puppy faces across the table and had to finish up a reading assignment for Astronomy, anyway. Aside from all that, he wanted to be sure the rest of the school was at breakfast before he carried out his ridiculous plan.
It involved him slipping into Professor Nightshade's classroom unnoticed and before she arrived that morning. Draco personally thought she never left the dusty room, and quite possibly slept under the desk, but he had seen her in the Great Hall for breakfast most mornings- around 7 o'clock. Another 15 minutes and he would head up to her room.
He would carefully hide a note under the chair where he knew Hermione sat. He'd already written it, on fine parchment and in inconspicuous black ink.
Dear Hermione,
If you come by the Astronomy Tower after this class, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. You don't by any chance fancy diamonds and rubies, do you? I thought you might.
Best regards, A Secret Admirer
It was contrived, silly, stupid, and cliche, which was what he had been hoping for, really. He had balked at signing it "With love", but "Sincerely" sounded too business-like. And girls loved that Astronomy Tower, lovey-dovey crap, didn't they?
Checking the time once more, he grabbed his bag- satchel- whatever the hell it was, books, and the note, and ran out to plant the gift and note before the halls began filling with students.
*** The package went into position without any problems. He wasn't seen, and it looked splendid sitting in the east window of the tower in the early morning sun. Any normal woman would love it. Whether or not that included Hermione, of course, remained to be seen.
He had just set the note under Hermione's desk (right where she would have to set her books down before being seated) and had nonchalantly begun to leave when he heard the door to Nightshade's classroom creak open. His stomach actually lurched, and he froze for a second.
In walked none other than Professor Nightshade.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She had a large stack of books which she dropped heavily onto her desk, sending up little poofs of dust into the air. "Class doesn't begin for almost another hour. I've never known you to consider punctuality a top priority."
Needanexcuseneedanexcuseneedanex-
"I was just looking for my notes from last Friday, Professor," he responded calmly, pulling out a roll of parchment from his bag. "I wanted to- to review them before class today. I remembered you saying something about a quiz."
Nightshade raised an eyebrow. "How good of you to remember, Mr. Malfoy." She paused, and smiled. "In the meantime, while you're here, you can help me sort these papers."
"Er- well, I was really planning on grabbing some breakfast first. If I have time, I'll be sure to stop by afterwards-"
Well, that was stupid. He really should be doing a bit of buttering up to Nightshade, he needed to pull a decent grade in the class and for whatever reason, Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather important as far as O.W.L.S. were concerned. Too late now. Nightshade fixed her gaze on him rather irritatedly, then nodded.
"Right, Mr. Malfoy, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all..." She glanced down at the papers scattered across her desk. "I'd get going, if I were you, anyway, considering I'm about to grade your essay test from last week. I have the strangest feeling that I won't be too pleas- "
Draco didn't need a second warning. He was out the door and headed downstairs before she ever finished the sentence.
Please don't let anyone see me carrying this bloody bag, please-
Why had he bothered to take it? He could have managed to fit the bag under his robe, couldn't he? Stupid plan... It looked like a purse, he was carrying a purse.. if anyone saw him-
"What've you got there, Malfoy?"
Draco turned around. Bloody hell, it was Potter and Weasley. "I don't have time for this, Weasley," he spat as he whisked past them.
"What's that- a purse?"
"NO, Weasel, it's not a purse, it's a dragonhide bookbag. I suppose you're not used to seeing one patched up and full of holes."
It was actually made of plain old boring leather- but hopefully Weasley couldn't tell the difference. He was all the way downstairs and in the Slytherin dungeons before Weasley bothered
Of course, dear little Potty and the Weasel would be having a field day with all of this. Well, it simply wasn't fair. Draco was supposed to be tormenting them, and not the other way around.
The things he did for lo-
NOT love, more like... a strange attraction, he reminded himself furiously.
He slumped down in a green and silver armchair near the fireplace of the common room after shoving the satchel-thing back under his bed where it belonged. He didn't feel like eating, and there was nothing to do but wait, anyway.
Chapter 9
After what seemed like two hours' wait, Draco finally cracked and allowed himself to peek at his watch, something he had been avoiding, knowing it would make the agonizing hour he had left until Defense Against the Dark Arts even more unbearable.
Ten minutes past the hour.
Damn it.
He tried pacing around the common room, he tried watching the clock, he even tried reading, but all to no avail. Finally he just sat back down and stared sullenly at his shoes, which, he noticed, could do with a good polish. Not that he'd bother with it himself. He'd leave them out later on for one of the house elves that he knew came to clean the common room every night.
Oh, bet Hermione'd love to hear that, he thought with a small smirk.
He checked his watch again. Only ten more minutes had passed.
This was getting ridiculous.
The common room was still empty. Figuring he'd better leave now, before anyone who'd forgotten a book or quill (or anyone named Pansy Parkinson, for that matter) came in. Draco was not in a mood to deal with people today. He scowled, grabbed his books and last week's homework, and dashed up the stairs, happily unseen. His plan was to head for the library. Pansy wouldn't be caught dead in there unless physically forced to (or unless she thought she might be able to share a little study session of sorts with Draco- but even someone as thick as Pansy ought to have figured out that he wanted nothing to do with her at all...), so he figured he was safe. He shoved his way past a group of tittering first years and arrived in the library rather noisily and rather out of breath, earning him a decidedly perturbed glance from Madame Pince.
Scowling at her, he dropped his books loudly on a small rickety table and sat down with a thud. The clock on the wall informed him that he had taken precisely four minutes to make it to the library. Which meant he had thirty- six minutes to go before Defense Against the Dark Arts. He would have to get there at least a few minutes early- before Hermione did, anyway. If he waited in the library for ten more minutes he should be alright.
Madam Pince was still glaring at him. Draco smiled at her, then proceeded to tap his fingers upon the table, drumming steadily. Thirty seconds later he added a bit of humming and foot-tapping.
Draco's amusement lasted only for about fifteen seconds. Madam Pince jumped out of her seat, glaring at him. The noise he'd made had been minimal, true, but in the dead silence of the library (he was the only student present, after all) you could've heard a flea drop from someone's head (someone like Weasley, Draco thought, suppressing a smirk) as clearly as you'd hear a cave troll bellowing in your ear.
Speaking of a cave troll bellowing in your ear-
"EXCUSE ME, Mr. Malfoy, but I will NOT tolerate this kind of nonsense in MY library. So I'm going to have to ask you to take Draco Malfoy's Amazing One- Man Band elsewhere before I pencil you in for detention this evening!"
Draco Malfoy's One-Man Band had a nice ring to it, he thought, collecting his bags and making his way purposefully downstairs. He'd never seen Pince get quite so.. violent. But, he supposed, everyone must snap at some point.
As he approached Nightshade's door, he began to have serious second thoughts. It was obviously too late for those, but that didn't stop his stomach from becoming all squirmy and flittery. Squirmy and flittery were not words Draco had ever used to describe any feelings he'd ever had, and he rather wished he hadn't had to start now. Perhaps he should have eaten some breakfast.
The room was nearly empty. Nightshade had apparently run off to go kill some baby bunny rabbits or whatever vile things she did in her spare time, and the only other students in the room were Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan, chatting boredly; just three Gryffindors Draco couldn't have cared less about, seated toward the middle. Draco slipped in to his usual desk- back of the room, left-hand corner.
His eyes kept darting nervously toward the door. A few Slytherins wandered in, as well as the two other Gryffindor girls, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.
Where the hell was Hermione? Less than ten minutes to go and she still hadn't shown up. Draco began to wonder if he ought to have planned something flashier than a simple note. Then he started worrying that Nightshade had seen him stick it under Hermione's desk, and had taken it or intended to use it to make a bigger fool out of Draco than he'd already managed to do to himself this past week or so.
Then Hermione strolled in, arguing with that moron Weasley, while Potter stood behind them, looking amused. At that instant Draco would have sworn on his mother's life that his stomach had just performed a back flip. Just nerves, you just don't want anyone to find out it's you that wrote the note, he told himself.
And there she was, sitting at her desk, bending forward to slide her books onto the bookrack underneath- she had spotted the note. She read it, a faint frown creasing her forehead. She looked up, scanned the room, then sat back down, slipping the note into her bag. She was still frowning slightly. She hadn't noticed him, and Potter and Weasley had no idea what had even just occured. Words couldn't describe the enormous sense of relief he felt, which was soon replaced by a knot in his stomach. Hermione might not go for it. She might think it was a trick, or be otherwise suspicious in anyway. And then, of course, the little problem that she might not like his first gift, that she would never, ever fall for him, and that his plan would fail miserably in the end after all.
Nightshade walked in, shouting as usual and brandishing an enormous pile of paperwork. "Terrible- absolutely dreadful- never seen anything like it in my ENTIRE career as a TEACHER..."
Draco scowled again, sighed, and leaned boredly against the wall, eyes half- closed. The entire situation was proving to be much more complex than he'd ever thought.