Rearranging the Alphabet
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Malfoy rapped on Everett's door once more, but this time he used the side of his fist to make the banging louder.
"Malfoy!" Hermione hissed. "What the hell!"
"Well, how rude was that?" Malfoy griped. "And this man is supposed to be Hogwarts new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Hmph. I think Dumbledore must've made a mistake. Loony old man, he is-"
"Sir!" Hermione shouted, ignoring Malfoy. "Sir, we've brought a gift for you!"
The footsteps could be heard once more as Everett crept towards the door and slowly opened it about an inch or so. "A gift, you say?" He asked, eyeing Hermione and Malfoy up and down. Then his eye suddenly caught the baby phoenix hooting gently on Malfoy's shoulder. "A phoenix!"
He opened the door all the way and a smile could be seen for the first time on his old, furrowed face. He 'coochey-cooed' the phoenix for what seemed like an eternity, during which time Hermione and Malfoy exchanged bewildered glances. Then, suddenly, he desisted and withdrew his hand before fully analyzing both Hermione and Malfoy from head to toe.
"And you say this is for me?" He asked suspiciously, holding out his finger so that the phoenix could jump onto it, much to Malfoy's relief.
"Yes, sir." Hermione confirmed, pleased to see that Everett was open to taking her gift. "It's sent from Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly."
"Yes, I assumed as much." Everett sighed. "A couple of teenage hooligans showing up at my door, where else would they be from?"
"I assure you that I am no hooligan!" Malfoy exclaimed, offended.
Everett raised his eyebrow at Malfoy with interest, but chose to ignore him. Instead, he turned to Hermione and said, "I presume Dumbledore has sent you here in hopes of getting me to accept his job proposal?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir. This is Draco Malfoy, and I'm Hermione Granger. We're the Heads of Hogwarts."
"And I suppose you expect an invitation inside so that I'll allow you to bombard me with your pathetic attempts of luring me to Hogwarts, do you?" Everett asked.
"No, quite the contrary." Hermione replied. "Draco and I would like to extend an invitation to you for lunch tomorrow at noon at a quaint little café in Serenity-"
"Tipsy's?" Everett asked, hopefully.
Hermione smiled. "Yes, that's the one. What do you say, sir?"
Everett grinned. "I like you, young lady. You've got spunk. Lunch tomorrow at Tipsy's says you? Looking forward to it, says I."
"Brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed, suppressing the urge to give a victory hoot. "We'll meet you there, then. Have an excellent day, sir."
"Thank Dumbledore for me!" Everett shouted, indicating the baby phoenix as Hermione and Malfoy descended the porch steps.
"How the hell did you do that?" Malfoy asked as soon as they were out of ear shot.
"Do what?" Hermione replied, grinning from ear to ear.
"Get him to fold like that!" Malfoy exclaimed, obviously impressed.
"What can I say, I'm good with people." Hermione said.
"Yeah, and having boobs doesn't help at all." Malfoy muttered sarcastically under his breath.
Hermione sighed. "Fuck off, Malfoy. I'm tired. Let's get back to the hotel and have a quick rest."
"Pfft, you can have a quick rest if you fancy." Malfoy scoffed. "I, on the other hand, would like to explore this browbeaten little town."
"I'd prefer that we stuck together." Hermione replied, already sensing an argument emerging.
"Well, I'd prefer not being sent to some crappy place with a mudblood, but hey, what can you do?" Malfoy retaliated.
"My god!" Hermione cried, frustrated. "What is the matter with you? You're Head Boy, Malfoy. Do you have any idea how much of an honor that is? Harry or Ron could've gotten the position, but somehow, through some crazy, horrible twist of fate, you got it. And you don't even care! If Head Boy isn't as important to you as it obviously should be, then why don't you just resign the position?"
"And let Potter or Weasel take it?" Malfoy asked. "Never."
"Now that we're on the subject, how did you become Head Boy?" Hermione asked, suspiciously.
"What do you mean 'how'?" He retorted. "And here I was thinking that you were in the Great Hall when Dumbledore forced us to take that stupid test."
"Yes, but you're not all that brilliant." Hermione replied.
Malfoy snorted. "Just because I'm not Mr. Know-It-All doesn't mean that I don't have wits. I'm rather proud of myself that I haven't stooped to your level of kissing every professor's ass." He put on a feigned excited expression, throwing his hand into the air and waving it around wildly. "Professor! Oh, professor! Pick me! Pick me!"
"I do not do that!" Hermione cried defensively as the town finally surfaced.
"Bullshit you don't." Malfoy retorted. "Now, I'm going to check out this little Tippy's café-"
"Tipsy's." Hermione corrected.
"Whatever. I'm going to check it out. Hopefully they'll give me a beer. I could go for a drink right about now."
"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "You are not drinking alcohol!"
"Want to bet?" Malfoy smirked as he headed towards Tipsy's, which luckily happened to be situated right across from their hotel. As they entered, they were greeted by a flood of colors, ranging from a bright shade of yellow on the walls to the faint blue terrazzo on the tiled floor. Malfoy immediately spotted the marble bar and wasted no time taking a seat on a vibrant red cushioned stool. Hermione did not follow him immediately; instead, she took in the café. It did not look like the average café (or at least, it did not resemble Madam Puddifoot's), but instead looked like a muggle sports bar with a splash of color.
Two women were seated by a massive, oval-shaped window chatting nonchalantly, one of them looking extremely obvious as a witch in her vivacious pink robes. A bit further on, an elderly man occupied a two-seated table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the local newspaper; most clearly a muggle, in Hermione's opinion.
Finally, after looking over the café completely, Hermione crossed the room and seated herself on a red barstool next to Malfoy. She glared at him as he held a beer in hand, then looked around for the culprit of this illegality; sure enough, a young, beautiful blond was working the bar, eyeing Malfoy hungrily as he sipped away at his beer.
"You know I don't approve." Hermione muttered quietly.
"Do I honestly look like I care?" Malfoy replied, avoiding eye contact.
Hermione rolled her eyes. She was just about to leave before a man, no older than twenty-three, stood next to her.
"Wow, you're beautiful." He said, glancing at Hermione's chest before looking her in the eye. "Is this seat taken?"
Hermione glared at him with disgust. "Yes, and this one will be too if you sit down."
The man smiled, completely disregarding Hermione's comment. "Baby, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put I and U together." He said, placing his hand overtop Hermione's. Malfoy snorted from the other side of her.
"Oh really? Because if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put F and U together." Hermione retorted, pulling her hand away.
The man looked stunned for a moment, then quickly covered his shock with a cheesy grin to match his cheesy pickup lines. "Oh come on, you're so gorgeous baby. I would die to have you!"
"Really?" Hermione asked. "Prove it."
Once again, he ignored Hermione's obvious lack of interest. "What do you say we go back to my place? You can tell me about yourself."
Hermione laughed. "Uh, no thanks, I think I'll pass."
"Come on!" He begged, taking her hand once more. "I'd love to get to know you."
"If I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure the girl just said no." Malfoy interrupted. "And when I say girl, I mean seventeen. A little young, don't you think?"
"That's how I like 'em." The man answered, winking at Hermione. She felt like throwing up.
Malfoy seemed to be getting angry now. "Okay, enough is enough. She doesn't want to fuck you, okay? Now get lost."
The man stood up. "And who the hell do you think you are?"
Malfoy stood up as well. "I think I'm her boyfriend."
His face dropped. "Oh. You could've just said so, man. Sorry 'bout that."
Malfoy nodded to indicate that it was quite alright, and he did not sit back down until the guy picked up his cafe mocha and left the coffee shop.
Hermione was speechless. Did Malfoy just help me? She asked herself, stunned. Did he just tell someone that he was my boyfriend in order to help me?
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Hermione opened her mouth to say something.
"Don't." Malfoy said, cutting her short. "Let's just say that you're in debt to me and leave it at that, shall we?"
Hermione nodded, still speechless. Not knowing what to say on the subject, she cleared her throat and said, "I think I'm going to go back to the hotel."
Malfoy nodded slightly to indicate that he heard her, but said nothing more. He did not look up as she stood to leave, but the moment he was sure she that did, he dropped his head on the marble surface of the bar. What the hell was that! He thought, utterly appalled with himself. I can't believe I just helped her! The mudblood! He shuddered, trying to shake off the disgusted feeling that he felt like he had just bathed in. The funny thing was, his gut had churned as he listened to some old man try to hit on Hermione. He felt a bolt of anger surge in the pit of his stomach, and all he wanted to do was attack. Perhaps it was the old man preying on such a young girl; yes, that had to be it. It was just wrong, and Malfoy did not feel as though the man should have gotten away with it. Hermione handled herself quite well, though. She didn't need Malfoy, so if he had butted out, chances were that she would have been fine. Well, it was just in case, Malfoy thought, second-guessing himself. The disgusted feeling and the worried sense that were traveling through his body made him feel sick. Never again would he help the mudblood. It was a one time thing. It would never happen again.
He sighed. Just a one time thing.
A/N:-o Do I sense ... feelings? No, it can't be ... lol okay, well maybe it can. I suppose you'll have to see. You can't see if you don't review, though. So review!