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Chapter Four: Intricate Designs

She actually agreed to stay the night in the Slytherin Dungeons; although it took much persuasion, and I nearly had to drag her all the way down the stairs into those cold and dank corridors.

From that little description, I could tell why no one enjoys coming down here.

We arrived in by the Rouge's statue, and couldn't take a step further because of a little problem.

That little ghost.

That menace; who takes much pride in pulling stupid pranks on the students.

True, that's what Slytherins do as well, deriving pleasure out of others discomforts. But in the middle of the night?

"What are you doing here, Peeves?"

"Little—ferret—wants—to—play—bouncy—bouncy!" Peeves shrieked delightfully, throwing balls of what seemed to look like balloons, but as soon as they popped, the object touching would bounce.

I was getting quite sick of all the ferret jokes.

I could see that it was quite a struggle for Hermione to stop laughing, since she was biting the inside of her mouth.

"If you don't leave us alone, I'll call the Bloody Baron," I warned him. He took no notice and laughed, aiming a balloon at me. It was as if he was mocking me, trying to see if I really would. He underestimates my patience.

"Oh Bloody Baron," I sang. The ghost floated from the facing wall and without hesitation, Peeves had disappeared at once.

But not before he hit me with a balloon.

Bounce.

Thump.

Bounce.

Thump.

Bounce.

In the darkness, there was a fit of laughter. She was holding her sides, laughter pouring out and tears threatening to come out.

What's she laughing about, I pouted. Stupid girl.

"Shut up," I told her. She took no note of me and continued to laugh to her heart's content. Impatience. Embarrassment. I loved her. But I had to draw the line at—too much laughter towards me. Although the sounds of her tinkling laugh entranced me. "Come on! Shut up!"

She wiped a tear from her eye before answering me. "There." Cough. "Seems to be a—" Splutter. "Problem."

"I can see that." My feet didn't touch the ground entirely. It looked as if I was jumping.

"Encounter a little problem Malfoy?" A voice greeted me at the entrance. I smiled sardonically at the stupid git.

"What do you want Blaise? Galleons? Your own room? A one-way ticket to Hell?" His own smirk didn't falter, and by magic, it grew and he seemed to be leering.

At me? This horrible thought passed over me in shock.

Blaise is gay? Oh well, if he is, then that was certainly no surprise.

When I looked at his leering gaze, it was not directed at me, but Hermione.

That horny git, she just got here and already he wants to get in her pants. Or very lacy knickers. I gave him a cold hard look before pushing into the Common Room, leaving the two at the entrace. Stupid Blaise. Stupid Hermione.

I sat near the fireplace, just watching them carefully. Blaise placed his hand on her shoulder and she did nothing to move it away.

She put her hand on top of his. That was—memo: must let Blaise suffer a painful—you know what? Screw him!

"Come here Mudblood!"

Shit.

Old habits die hard. I do love her.

But as I said, old habits die hard.

She gave me a hurt look, before turning to Blaise and immersed herself in a conversation with him. I sighed and made my way towards them. She caught my eye and smirked. A smirk from Hermione? Very unexpected. Very Slytherinesque.

She leaned into him, whispering something in his ear I couldn't quite catch.

Reading her lips I caught a "Draco—make—spring—punch—kill—chicken."

The last one was from Blaise. I am not a chicken. If ever an animal. I would be a Dragon, just like my name.

When he suddenly pressed his hips into hers and she looked befuddled, that was the last straw. "You know what Zabini? Step away from Hermione. Go back to your Dormitory. I hope you sleep and never wake up."

"Right back at you, mate," he replied with a laugh and a sneaky grin. Stupid gay fag.

He disappeared into the back and I heard a large crash following.

Serves him right. Trip over something big and heavy, you can land on Goyle and he can ravish you! That thought troubled me a bit.

I was more disgusted, but I let it pass, there were more important things to do. Turning back to Hermione I sounded an order.

"Follow me."

She complied, twisting away from the Common Room to a small alcove, where a hidden door could be seen, the handle gleaming in the faint candlelight. She was about to press down on the handle before I stopped her. She was about to complain when I put a finger to her lips.

"Lumos." I showed her the intricate designs on the door, there were fiver small letters scrambled up to read something like gibberish at the top right corner.

Ernev that was what it looked like. With a flick of my wand and a simple spell I had researched to no end, the lock of the door clicked and she so helpfully pushed the door open.

"Why that word?" Hermione asked in fascination.

"It was—nothing, maybe one day I can tell you."

She looked around the room for the first time. "Where do I sleep?" She gave a big yawn.

"On the bed."

"Where will you sleep then?"

"The floor, it's no trouble for me." She gave me an appraising look. "Really. Take it."

She slid under the covers without any complaint. And I slid into the covers and rested on the mattress that lay on the floor.

And even this late into the night, she was so curious. "Draco?" Pause. "You'll never let me go right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You won't leave me right?"

"No. I won't."

"You sure?"

"I would never."