It was a very humid and steamy, June day. The end of Draco's sixth school year was near, and he couldn't wait for his class, with the Gryffindors, to be over. It was, without a doubt, not the perfect season to be wearing a uniform.
Draco wiped away a droplet of sweat from his forehead, when he felt a pair of eyes watching him. He swiftly glanced around the classroom, searching for a guilty face, but the only one he'd found belonged to that mudblood, Granger. "What's her problem?" he thought to himself, shrugging. Draco rolled his eyes, and began to loosen his tie, groaning softly. Then, there it was again, the sense of Hermione's chocolate, brown eyes upon his face. Draco turned around in his seat, facing Hermione with an expression of disdain.
"Got a problem, there, Granger?" he exclaimed curtly, breaking the silence and 'concentration' of the classroom.
"I beg your pardon, Malfoy?" she shot back, though not looking the least bit offended.
"You heard me, you M-" he started, interrupted by Professor McGonagall's alarmed tone.
"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, … what's seems to be the problem?" she inquired.
"The problem, Professor, is that, that-woman continues to gape at me, and it's bloody annoying!" he exclaimed.
"Professor, I've done nothing of the sort!" said Hermione, defending herself. The class no longer looked jaded, but fired up.
"Enough, the pair of you. And that's ten points from Slytherin for such language, Mr. Malfoy," she started, as several Slytherin students moaned, "The two of you will see me after class, understood?"
"Crystal clear," mumbled Draco.
"Yes, Professor," nodded Hermione.
Professor McGonagall went on with her lesson, the students a bit rowdy now. Hermione looked to Harry and Ron's blank faces. She saw Harry mouth the words, "What was that all about," but just turned away, and tried very hard to pay attention, but her mind wandered elsewhere…
"I'll tell you everything, later," promised Hermione, as Harry and Ron headed to their next, and last class of the day.
"You'd better," exclaimed Ron, eagerly.
Hermione watched as the rest of the class left, until it was only she, Professor McGonagall, and Malfoy. She began walking towards Professor McGonagall's desk, slowly, dreading the time where'd she be shoulder to shoulder next to Malfoy, attempting to explain why she had, indeed, been staring at Malfoy. But the truth was, she herself hadn't known. It was just something about him that fascinated her so it was scary. "I guess I could always just lie," she thought, biting her lip. Hermione had reached her destination. Professor McGonagall wore a large frown.
"Explain yourselves," she demanded, her arms folded. Both Hermione and Draco opened their mouths to speak, but were silenced by Professor McGonagall's hand waving in the air, indicating for them to be quiet.
"One at a time-"
"Well, Granger here, continually stared at me, so I asked what her problem was, is all," explained Draco, casting a glare at Hermione, as he said her name.
"And as I said before, I'd done nothing of the sort," she lied, putting much emphasis on the word 'nothing.'
"You liar!" yelled Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy…please, contain yourself," commanded Professor McGonagall, "You will each receive detention, for disturbing my class-"
"But Professor-" started Hermione, "Couldn't I write a paper instead?"
"I'm afraid not, Ms. Granger," she replied, now watching as Draco's frown grew to a wide grin, "Have a comment you'd like to share with us, Mr. Malfoy?" she said.
"Not at all, Professor…I must say this is a suitable punishment," he replied.
"It is not!" protested Hermione, "Detention? For how long?"
"Until the end of the school year," replied Professor McGonagall, with no emotion.
"That's three weeks!"
"Nothing gets past you, does it Granger?" laughed Malfoy.
"But for something I didn't even do, I'm getting detention for-"
"That's enough. Now get to your last class," commanded Professor McGonagall.
Rage bubbled up inside of Hermione. She just couldn't see how Professor McGonagall could be so cold-hearted. Was it really that much of a problem, that she had received detention for it? All she'd done was watch Malfoy, a very intriguing and captivating young man. Hermione shook her head in fury, and gathered her scroll of parchment paper, inkbottle, and quill, shoving it into the backpack her parents had given her, last Christmas. She watched Professor McGonagall disappear out of the room for a moment. On her way out, she'd heard Malfoy mumbling and swearing under his breath. He shot her another glare, his steel, cold, gray eyes, glinting. His expression changed and he was now smirking, making him look like a madman.
"Hey woman," he whispered, for she had indeed, transformed into a beautiful young lady over the summer.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"See you in detention, he grinned.
Hermione stepped up to him, and slapped her hand across his very pale, but perfect, porcelain face. Then, turned on her heel and stormed out the door, leaving a very astonished Malfoy behind.