Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

II

"I'm bored," announced Draco suddenly.

Hermoine bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at him. "Then put the bucket on your head," she replied evenly.

"How is that fun?"

"It'll be a surprise when I try to murder you. For Merlin's sake, can't you just keep quiet? Complaining isn't going to get us out of here any sooner," said Hermoine with an exasperated sigh.

Draco made a face. "You really are a bookworm."

"Just because I like it quiet? You're insane! I'm going to need intensive therapy after I get out of here."

"It's alright, really. You just need to loosen up a little."

Hermoine raised her eyebrows. "This coming from Hogwarts' biggest prat? You practically grovel at Professor Snape's feet so you can get high marks—and you're telling me to loosen up? Isn't that a bit of a contradiction, Malfoy?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. People wish they were me," stated Draco off-handedly.

"Oh yes, I'm sure they do," agreed Hermoine nodding. "Because we all wish we could hang out with the two piggiest eaters in school. It's such a shame really, that Crabbe and Goyle are you're only friends."

"They aren't my only friends. There's Blaise too."

"The boy who looks kind of like a donkey?"

"A what key?" asked Draco in confusion.

"Honestly, don't you know what a donkey is?" returned Hermoine with a disappointing shake of her head.

"Uh, is it that thing that was chasing us earlier?" offered Draco.

"And I thought Ron was a bit slow."

Draco frowned but didn't say a word. He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back on his bucket—only to fall right off and onto the ground because he hadn't been close to the wall. Hermoine brought a hand to her mouth as she dissolved into laughter.

"It isn't that funny," growled Draco as he sat up on the backs of his hands.

"Oh yes it is," murmured Hermoine taking a deep breath and then giggling some more. "Here you are trying to tell me that people want to be just like you—and you can't even sit on a bucket properly!"

"Har har. I'm sorry I'm not laughing along with you."

Hermoine shrugged. "It's your loss, not mine. Maybe you can dig us out while you're down there."

"I don't do manual labor," replied Draco making a face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot we already talked about you not using that thing you call a brain. Does it hurt when you think?"

"Bloody prude."

Hermoine rolled her eyes. It wasn't much of an insult coming from Malfoy. He must have been losing his edge being locked up in such a small space. Maybe his brain was getting more air than it was used to compared to life in Slytherin. Draco furrowed his eyebrows and kicked the bucket he had fallen off of. It skittered into the back of the broom closet, only to knock the brooms onto the shelves—directly down upon his and Hermione's head.

"Watch out," growled Draco pulling Hermoine to the ground before she was seriously injured. The two teens covered their heads and winced in pain as shelves of equipment, as well as brooms and mops fell on top of them in a noisy heap.

Hermoine spat out some ancient dust with a cough as Draco struggled to sit up on his elbows. Unfortunately he wasn't strong enough to lift everything off his back. Draco gave up and glanced at Hermoine beside him. She was giving him a very dark look.

"What?" he asked after a while.

"Are you bored now?" she demanded harshly.

"As a matter of fact—no, I'm not bored. But thank-you for asking."

Hermoine groaned and lowered her head in exasperation. It would be much too soon if she ever got out of the closet.

A/N—Another chapter, short, yes, but still, I'm not planning on this being an altogether long story. Just a humorous one, and if I make it too long then it will lose focus. Anyway, hope you like this one; I'm already working on the next chapter.