Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any aspect of Rowling's brilliant creation. Please forgive me for trampling so randomly on her beloved characters.
Chapter 3: Confrontation
Hermione was peeved. Why should she be the one to feel humiliated, when, obviously, Malfoy was the one all over some girl in the middle of the school grounds? It was none of her fault that she happened upon them, and it certainly wasn't her fault for being curious. No, no, this was all Malfoy's doing, and she would have none of his winks or suggestive looks. She would confront him, as Head Girl, and do what her duty was – penalize him for flagrantly disobeying school rules. Creating a potential public disturbance, doing much more than snogging, which would be penalized severely already…these were her duties to prohibit. She would.
So, our bookish head girl headed up to her room after classes, and tied up her hair, attempting to look like someone of authority, a girl who would demand respect. (I suppose she was trying to mimic Professor McGonagall) Without the very distracting nature of her bushy hair, there was a noticeable natural prettiness in her inquisitive brown eyes, her small pouty lips, and her delicate face. She headed out of her room, shining up her head girl badge, on a mission to find Draco Malfoy, and to put him in his place.
Hermione sneaked toward the dungeons, rounding corners with serpentine precision and sly looks over her shoulder. After all, it helped to be a snake in order to catch one. She was hoping her scarlet-and-gold Gryffindor uniform wouldn't be too noticeably out-of-place in the dismal, dark, oddly damp and cold place. The dungeons were revealed by torchlight, each huge grey brick etched out, flickering with shadow. Involuntarily, she shivered. This was hardly a comfortable place to be snooping around in. Her search had been uninterrupted thus far, but as soon as the thought occurred, Hermione noticed a black figure at the next corner.
"Shit," she whispered, mind searching rapidly for a cover story.
Before Hermione could formulate a single thought, Blaise Zabini, renowned Slytherin jerk and one of Draco's right hand men, stood before her. All 6-feet-tall-blazing-blue-eyes of him. His very inescapable good looks were intimidating, and Hermione was ill-experienced with boys, so she was crossing her fingers that she wouldn't studder and make a fool of herself.
"Hello…what is your name again? Manger?" Before Hermione could correct his very intentional blunder, Blaise continued.
"What might you, an obvious Gryffindor, be doing in the dungeons with such a suspiciously guilty look on your face?"
She looked guilty? Oh, bother. Hermione never was very good at acting.
"I'm sure you've mistaken that look with one of complete irritation. Get out of my way before I take points from Slytherin!" Hermione was even surprised at her own insistence.
"Oh, no!" He was grinning. "Not points from Slytherin!" Now he was positively beaming. Apparently he found the situation quite amusing.
Exasperated and blushing, Hermione resorted, at last, to physical violence and shoved him aside with a show of force that caught Blaise off-guard and sent him tumbling to the ground, to land very ungracefully on his ass. Now Hermione was beaming.
For the elusive Mr. Malfoy… Hermione decided to ask around. She didn't need justification to be down here. She was head girl, after all, and she could very likely just be monitoring the halls. If anyone was unwilling to divulge information, she could just threaten the poor, deluded thing with a detention…or two. Hermione was feeling very venomous. Perhaps the environment down in the dungeons just brought out the natural Slytherin in everyone.
Who to ask first? Erm…well, there was an indifferent-looking Slytherin girl, wandering around looking thoroughly bored. Perhaps Hermione could whittle some information out of her.
"Um, yes, girl. Yes, you there. No, not that kid. You! Yes, yes, come here. As head girl of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, I demand to know the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy, for he has broken various rules and must be suitably…disciplined," Hermione finished, awkwardly.
After a bit of giggling (this girl was certainly a first-year), she divulged.
"Well, Miss Granger," the first-year replied, quite sarcastically, "I happened to see Draco near the Slytherin common room, brooding by the fire. He's quite good at that, you know," and added, as a sort of afterthought, "My name is Mag. I'd prefer not to be addressed as 'girl'." With that, and a defiant look from her green eyes, she turned and stalked away in the opposite direction.
"Well!" Hermione was genuinely surprised. She'd rarely encountered such petulance toward her authority. Well, she supposed it was to be expected from a Slytherin.
Aha. A gleaming head of bird turd hair. Unmistakably Draco Malfoy, greased up and sauntering around the corner. Perhaps she didn't need to interrogate any more students after all.
"Malfoy! Here, now." Yes. Way to address him like a pet dog. Let him know his place.
Malfoy's eyebrow cocked so high that she wondered whether it had disappeared into this hair. He seemed to size her up, keeping his distance. After determining…what, she didn't know, he sauntered, cocky as ever, toward her set, stern, figure.
"Yes, muddie?" Well, at least he hadn't used the full deragatory term of 'mudblood.' Though 'muddie' wasn't much better. "Do you need something from me?"
"Could you show some manners toward me? Yes, perhaps you are headboy, and you feel no inclination to respect my authority, but do remember that I can just as easily order you to detention, or refer you to the headmaster, as you can me. Let us speak civilly." Hermione was feeling good. No stuttering so far.
More eyebrow-raising. Pretty soon it was going to be completely lost in his locks.
"Well. What, my fellow head student, do you inquire after today?" Completely mocking, but at least he was complying.
"I must tell you that, the other night, I happened upon you and another Slytherin, I presume, indulging in, erm…some questionable activity. I came to inform you that such violation of public decency breaks about 22 Hogwarts school rules. I should know, I have the Hogwarts Headstudent Handbook in my pocket." Hermione was now quite confident. She naturally was when spouting her knowledge, whether or not others really wanted to hear it.
"Your hair is different." Draco was very intently concentrating on Hermione's ponytail, which, even as they spoke, was unraveling, stray strands coming loose and dangling near her face.
Hermione was caught completely off-guard. He hadn't answered her accusation at all!
"Yes, I suppose it is," Hermione replied, unconsciously fingering her stray locks, trying in vain to put them in place.
And then the conversation was abruptly cut off, and they stood there, staring at one another. Hermione had absolutely no idea what was going on, and didn't really know what was appropriate to say at the moment. Had Malfoy just pseudo-complimented her? "Different" was a compliment, coming from Draco Malfoy. Her purpose seemed completely forgotten at the moment, and she was feeling very fidgety and uncomfortable under Malfoy's very close scrutiny. There was that jasmine smell again.
"Do you wear cologne?" Oh. Goodness. She really did not mean to say that out loud.
Eyebrow raising. She had become accustomed to it.
"No." Malfoy seemed content as ever to continue staring her down. Perhaps this was like a game of chicken. Who ever backed off first would lose. And Hermione would not be a loser. So she got to staring, relieved that no student had yet come upon them. Surely, their staring contest would have drawn many interested spectators.
His eyes were really quite pretty. She didn't feel like a traitor thinking that. It was merely an observation. There were swirls of blue and lavender dispersed in the cold grey, and his lashes extended gracefully above them, framing those lovely eyes with white. She wondered what he thought of her eyes. They couldn't possibly be as lovely. Yes, so he was nice to gaze at. That didn't say anything for his very venemous personality.
After some more prolonged staring, and ceaseless fidgeting from Hermione, a very obviously staged "ahem" broke their intensity. Who knew whether Draco or Hermione had stared away first? They were both very suddenly aware of a third presence that, even before they turned from one another, were all too certain was bad news.
"Mister Malfoy. Miss Granger. As head boy and girl, I do wish you two would promote some interhouse cooperation. Staring each other down in the middle of a highly-trafficked hallway will not do. Five points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Please, if you would, insure that the next time I come upon you two, you will be the picture of friendly unity."
Draco and Hermione stared at one another, equally appalled. Friendly unity? Disgusting thought.
Hoo. I am grateful very very much for reviews of Chap 2. Jane, Forever Felton, and Inari get my happily-given hugs.
Note: I have changed the rating to PG-13. Initially, I thought that the language might be somewhat offensive, but really, it doesn't seem bad enough to deserve an R rating.