AN: Hey, devoted readers! (that was a joke because I have none) This is the next chapter, obviously. Enjoy! And if you do enjoy it, review! And if you don't enjoy it, review!
Disclaimer: Yes, that's right! I am J. K. Rowling! I read fanfiction, so I know what you all think will happen! And then I laugh! Mwhahaha! Just joking, people. I'm not. I don't own Draco, or Hermione, or Ron, or the trophy room. I do think that I own the bathroom that attaches to the trophy room, but if it was needed for the next book, I won't have a fit about owning it.
Ron
"What the hell?" I exclaimed. This was not what I expected to find when I walked in here. I was expecting to see Hermione crying and Malfoy making rude comments. I was NOT expecting Hermione to be doing a strip tease for Malfoy.
Quickly, I pulled out my wand. "Rusemu!" I cried. I remembered that spell because we had used it on Harry after someone had spiked his pumpkin juice at dinner. The spell made a drunk person somber.
Hermione looked dazed for a moment, then focused. She looked down, looked at Malfoy, looked at me, and screamed. She quickly grabbed her robes from the ground and wrapped them around her chest.
"What the hell were you just doing, Hermione?"
With a quick glance at Malfoy, she started speaking. "I got really drunk. I don't remember what I was thinking, but I remember doing it. Malfoy brought the picnic basket in here," she said, gesturing to the floor, which was littered with butterbeer bottles.
I glared at Malfoy, who was grinning like a man lost in the desert who had just found a spring. He caught my glance and started to talk. "Yeah. No more butterbeer for you, Granger," he said, unenthusiastically.
"You don't sound particularly unhappy about that," I said, glaring.
"What if I'm not?" he shot back. Hermione pulled out her wand, and muttered a few words. Malfoy and I went flying backwards out of the room.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
"I guess we're sleeping out here tonight," I said.
"Unfortunately."
I gave him a very icy glare. "Now listen here, Malfoy. I love Hermione, and, deep down, she loves me. You will not do anything to stop her from figuring this out. For the rest of this week, you will stay as far away from her as possible. Got that?"
He gave me an icier glare. "I don't think that I will. I don't have to take any of your shit, Weasley. If I want Hermione, you're not going to be the reason why I don't have her. Oh, and if she loves you so much, why was she crying on the floor just a few minuets ago." Malfoy spun around, and stormed to the other side of the room. When he did this I saw something I hadn't seen before.
A dark colored bruise on Malfoy's neck.
Hermione
My watch told me it was midnight when I creped out of the small bathroom. I hadn't been able to sleep, and decided that I might was well open the file cabinet in the room. It held records of everyone who had a trophy. It was rumored that some of the information would be on the NEWTS.
The room was dark, but I remembered where the file cabinet was. I felt my way there, fast. I hated the dark. I always felt that someone could be there, and I not know about it in the dark. I knew that its stupid, but I just like knowing what's going on.
When one of my hands touched the cold metal, I rejoiced. I felt for the handle, opened the drawer, and randomly pulled out a file. I turned around and started to run back the bathroom, when my foot hit something. I went tumbling to the ground.
I felt my hand brush something, and then the something moving!
A hand clamped over my mouth, a body covered mine, and I could feel a wand at my throat. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a whimper.
"Hermione?" Oh, I thought.
"Get off of me, Malfoy," I tried to say, but all that came out was, "hem omm om mo, Mamoy."
"Oh." He moved his hand and I was able to talk again. But he was still on top of me.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, hoping we didn't wake Ron.
"Sorry. When people step on me when I'm asleep, I panic. Forgive me," I told me, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I just wanted something to read. I wasn't counting on someone sleeping in the middle of the goddamn floor." It's not often that I curse, but I was feeling kind of nervous, because he was still on top of me.
"Sorry. If you must know, my father sent people to attack me while I was sleeping when I was younger. He thought it would make me more careful or something."
"Get off of me, Draco," I said, but not sounding as rude as I had tried to before. He did.
"Hermione, we need to talk."
"God! Did you know that that's the second time someone has said that to me today?"
"But we do."
"What about? About what happened before. I was drunk, Draco."
"I wasn't."
"What? Of course you were. Don't be stupid."
"I was perfectly somber. I knew what I was doing."
"I'm sorry then. I don't know what that meant, but whatever it did, I just want to forget about it."
"It meant that I like you. I want to be with you," he had a pleading tone in his voice just then. He sounded like a little boy.
"I don't want to be with you." I got up and made my way back to the bathroom.
"Yes, you do," he said from behind me.
I turned back to him. "No, I don't."
"Then why have you been calling me 'Draco?'"
Draco
I sat up abruptly. I went to the door and tried it again, but it was still locked. "Damn."
I looked around the room that we were imprisoned in. Ron was sprawled out on the floor, his long limbs spread in every direction. The door to the bathroom was still closed, like it had been after my conversation with Hermione.
I went to the picnic basket and opened it up. I noticed that there was much more food then I expected and seen last night. Hermione had gotten about fifty sandwiches from the kitchen, along with ten more butterbeers. I guessed that she was nervous about something to allow the house elves to make all this food.
It only took me a few minuets before I had placed everything into three different piles. I gave the extra butterbeer to myself, of course.
"Poisoning our food, are you Malfoy?"
I nearly jumped at the sound of Weasley's voice in my ear. Nearly.
"What are you two doing?" Hermione asked as she exited the bathroom, looking amazingly beautiful. "You separated the food. I'm so glad that you guys set aside your differences to do something that helpful." I smiled evilly at Weasley, who blushed because he didn't do a darn thing.
"Well, you know, we had some time on our hands," I said, shooting a look at Weasley, who turned even redder. He looked away from my gaze, and Hermione's happy look.
"The window!" he exclaimed, suddenly.
"What?" Hermione followed is gaze.
"There's a window over there," he pointed to a corner of the room. Sure enough, there was a window. "We could get out that way."
All three of us ran over to look, but were disappointed to see that we were more then three stories up. "Damn," I said.
Weasley punched the wall and bellowed. Then he kicked the same wall and growled. He punched again, and this time left a hole in the wall.
"Great. Let's punch holes and make the room colder then it already is," I said sarcastically. "Or we could throw Weasley out the window and build up body fat from his food." Hermione laughed, but Weasley never did get my sense of humor.
"Why don't we throw you out, and then we won't have to look at your ugly face!" His face turned a very red color, even though I had hardly said anything to be mad about. "Come on, Hermione. Let's leave this prick to make his jokes in peace." He grabbed her hand and tried to lead her into the bathroom, but she obviously didn't want to go.
"Ron, I'm not just going to follow you around."
"What? Would you rather stay here with Malfoy?"
Maybe I would." Hermione glared. I decided that I would not have any part in this fight, so I kept my mouth shut.
"You hate his as much as I do, Hermione. You wouldn't stay with him."
"If I wanted to --"
"But you don't want to."
"Who are you to tell me what I want?"
"I'm your… best friend."
"Oh, yeah!"
"Yeah. I know you better then anyone. And I know that you hate Malfoy."
Hermione spun around to face me. Before I knew what was going on, she had grabbed my face and pulled my lips to hers.
