A/N: Well that's kind of a hard chapter to follow, eh? I was stumped for a while as to how I can go from something emotional like that to something else, but it's a new day and a new mood for me! I'll try to keep updating as soon as humanly possible, but you must understand my situation stated several times before while I was whining. Well, I'm actually shocked that most of you haven't tried to chug a gallon of ammonia thus far, and you probably will after this chapter and send me hate mail about how bad of an author I am. I'm rather in a toss up as to make this dark or lighthearted, so any input would be lovely. Oh, and the title is the album title for My Chemical Romance, not belonging to me… sadly.
Chapter Three: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
Hermione had heard it said that revenge isn't the right thing to do; that it just makes you feel worse; that it just complicates things. But she had thought this through, and decided that revenge was exactly what she needed to repay Draco Malfoy for what he'd done to her.
It just isn't right and it just isn't fair, she thought furiously, stalking the halls like a malicious phantom, knocking anyone in her way into the nearest wall.
What I need, she told herself, slowly pivoting on the spot, is revenge.
With that, she raced back to their dormitory, a huge smile spreading across her face. She rushed though the portrait hole and stopped inside the entryway, catching her breath.
What to do, what to do, she wondered evilly. She strode into Malfoy's room and gazed around, the wheels turning in her head. His large, four-poster bed caught her eye, and she gave a smirk worthy of Malfoy himself.
This will do perfectly, she thought, totally abandoning all of the rational cautions that usually ran constantly through her head.
Hermione was laying on the couch reading with the fire crackling ominously when Malfoy walked through the portrait hole late that night. He self-consciously wiped the faint smears of pink lipstick from his face and neck before entering Hermione's field of vision.
He had been with Pansy, trying to get Hermione off his mind, but it didn't work in the slightest. Every time she touched him, Draco could only think about Hermione's soft lips on his, her gentle hands encircling his neck. Pansy was aggressive, almost to the point of overpowering. Even looking at Pansy made him think of Hermione, if only for the fact that they were polar opposites. Pansy had blonde, product-laden hair that hung stick-straight to her shoulders where the ends flipped up in uniform, framing her square face. She had a large and wide jaw, a nose that started out skinny and rapidly widened into a monstrous thing on her face, and close-set, pale blue eyes. She was by no means 'pretty,' but she was one of the few pureblood girls at Hogwarts. The fact that she came from a Death Eater family was also a plus; they were expected to marry after school by everyone. The thought of being with someone else had never crossed Draco's mind until last night, which is why he'd been with Pansy tonight; trying to get back into his old train of thought.
It didn't work, nothing is ever going to work, he thought in despair. But what we started last night couldn't continue, it was wrong.
He swaggered across the room and Hermione glanced at him indifferently. He gave a huge yawn and said, "Well, I'm exhausted. I think I'm going to turn in." She shrugged and returned to her book. Slightly put out, he walked away, and heard her murmur, "Sweet dreams," and he replied, "I will."
They'll be of you, he thought sadly. Draco walked into his room, shut the door securely behind him, and changed into a tee shirt and shorts. He lumbered into bed and drew the covers up over his head, which was how he had always slept. Surprisingly enough, sleep hit him as soon as he closed his eyes.
Out in their common room, Hermione giggled hysterically as her plan set itself in motion. She went into her room and got ready for bed, still having to pause at her current activities every once in a while to laugh.
Come now, she told herself sternly. This won't be near as funny unless I'm in bed as if I have no idea what's going on. With that, she climbed into bed and lay there for exactly two hours.
Two hours after he had gone to bed, Draco Malfoy awoke to a most unpleasant sensation. Everything around him was wet, squirmy, moving?
What the hell? He opened his eyes to a horrifying sight that gave weight to his most morbid suspicions.
"WORMS!" He bellowed, at which point Hermione giggled insanely, unable to keep up her unconscious pretense.
Draco happened to be covered in worms at that certain point in time. When one thinks of the word 'covered,' they usually think about a bucket full of worms dumped on them is quite enough to be 'covered' in worms. Hermione didn't think that was enough. She had transfigured his sheets, comforter, mattress, even his bed framing and posts into worms. It takes quite a complex spell to have it set off exactly two hours after being touched by its victim, but Hermione was more than capable to pull it off. After all, she was one of the seven in the NEWT Transfiguration class.
Now, there were two types of boys—well, men, in this world. There are the ones that don't mind being dirty and have an appreciation for everything disgusting and revolting, the more the better. And then there are the men who are the exact opposite of the first group. Draco Malfoy happened to fall into the second category, and was nothing short of horrified and sickened at the very thought of being in the midst of a huge pile of worms, let alone actually being in a huge pile of worms. He shrieked and writhed in vain to dislodge himself from the stinking, wriggling mound of worms. Hermione rushed into his room, looking concerned. Once she saw him she broke into hysterical laughter. It was quite a sight to behold, the perfect Draco Malfoy screaming in fear at being in the middle of a pile of worms as they crawled into his ears, down his shirt and shorts, up his nostrils and into his mouth. Hermione dropped to the floor, laughing so hard that she actually peed a little.
This is almost as good as him being turned into a ferret, she thought as tears of mirth streamed down her cheeks. Maybe even better! She laughed for another minute until his screaming was sure to wake up the entire school, so she decided that revenge had been nice and all, but if he reported her then she could get in quite a bit of trouble
Sighing, she walked over to the writhing pile of worms with a Malfoy embedded somewhere in its midst and tentatively reached her arm into the pile which Malfoy had disappeared under. Suddenly, a hand grabbed hers and yanked her into the gigantic pile of stink and slime. She gave a high-pitched scream as they enveloped her, and she struggled to surface, dragging with her the arm that was firmly enclosed around hers. Hermione's head slowly broke the surface of unspeakable filth. She gasped for breath as Malfoy came up next to her and broke into a truly evil grin.
"I bet you wish you hadn't overestimated yourself, eh Granger?" he sneered triumphantly.
Hermione replied haughtily, "Actually no. As disgusting as this is, it was worth it to see you shriek in such a high pitch that most opera singers can't equal." He stared blankly and she said irritably, "Never mind, you scream like a girl." She worked her way out of the worm pile with Malfoy still gripping her wrist. Once they were free, Draco looked at Hermione and Hermione looked at Draco. Before they could control themselves, they began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation and how each other looked, with worms still clinging to their skin and clothes. They laughed until they both had tears leaving shining tracks on their slimy faces.
After they had both gotten themselves under control, they cleaned up the mass of invertebrates. Hermione looked guiltily at Malfoy, who had just seemed to realize that he no longer had a place to sleep.
"Er, well," Hermione said, unable to start a coherent sentence. Malfoy looked at her and rolled his eyes, smiling ever so slightly. Hermione went into her room to fetch a few extra blankets for her roommate, who, apparently, was sleeping in their common room. She held them out to him and he took them silently before getting himself settled on the biggest couch.
"You do know, Granger," he drawled as she began to walk away. "That this means war." She froze, turned on the spot and grinned at him.
"I look forward to combat with a worthy opponent."
A/N: Well that's a little unexpected, eh? It might be a little out of character, but would Hermione honestly try to get him back after that? No, no, and no. Hope you liked it, and if you didn't then I'm sorry. Terribly sorry. I might cry. Please, leave the ammonia bottle there, don't drink! Just email me to tell me how to make it better. Oh no, don't do it, I'M SORRY!
