Right. Go away for months with no explanation and then update the one story nobody has reviewed. Brilliant plan.
"Hey Granger! Wait up!" She turned and waited. He'd skulked in the shadows until she'd shaken off her lackeys, of course.
"What is it now, Malfoy?"
"I need to learn how to be a library-dwelling know-it-all for tomorrow."
She slapped his hand off her shoulder, but he ignored this.
"You don't need to be all that offended. It's true. Besides, you have no compunctions about pointing my faults."
"Maybe I'm practicing being a complete bitch today, did you think of that?" she snarled, turning and beginning to walk away.
"That time of the month?"
"Bastard."
"Come on, there isn't anyone else I could ask. The rest are just posers. They don't actually know anything."
"Fine, but you owe me."
Three teachers asked him if he was feeling all right. Snape said he himself had gone through a goth phase. Draco, despite Hermione's advice to question the teacher at every opportunity, did not point out that nobody would notice the difference. He did after all place some value on his life.
"Malfoy, I suggest you explain yourself." She was scowling at him from her chair, which looked sinfully comfortable. He'd have tried harder to be Head Boy if he'd known there were going to be chairs like that.
"Well?"
"Um. Can I have your chair?"
"Is that supposed to be some kind of stupid innuendo? Because after today I really wouldn't be surprised. Do you know how many complaints I've fielded? Did you proposition every female in Hogwarts?"
"Some of them said yes. And don't worry, I wouldn't seduce you," he protested, shuffling a bit.
She assigned him three detentions for no good reason. Females were so temperamental.
To prepare for his Innocent Nice Guy day, Draco acquired some glasses that looked suspiciously like Harry Potter's. Clad in jeans and plaid, he sallied forth to face the wizarding world, Hogwarts, and Hermione Granger.
Sitting on a desk in the Potions classroom, waiting for Hermione to show up and supervise his detention, he decided that there was absolutely no way his real identity would wear plaid and there was therefore no need for him to suffer anymore. Setting his wand on the table, he began to wriggle out of the shirt.
"Hey, Mal - oh holy hell what are you doing?"
"Not wearing plaid," he replied, slightly muffled.
"Put your shirt back on, Malfoy."
"Just let me -"
"Shirt, Malfoy."
"Plaid -"
"No, Malfoy."
"But -"
"Malfoy! Shirt! On!"
He wriggled back into the shirt and glared at her reproachfully.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm not the one who was stripping."
"Plaid."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Why can't you just have normal crises like everybody else?"
Draco paused dramatically. "Because I am Draco Malfoy."
More to come, unfortunately.