A/N: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG I'm sssssssssssssooooooooooooooo SORRY! I must apologise a thousand times! (bows to all who is reading) sorry its taken me about two months to update. Yeah you know school started and I don't have anymore time to write (which really pissed me off) I'm finishing the last of my assessments which is good so I get more free time! Yay! I'm really sorry for not updating, you don't have to comment or review if you don't want to. My little gift to you, not begging for reviews. I finally turned off the 'not allowing anonymous review' thingy so you don't have to sign in anymore! Yay! Anyway, in compensation for my extreme tardiness, I have posted two chapters which I hope you will enjoy.
Chapter 9 – Backtrack
From that day on since their non-existent kiss, Blaise constantly kept an annoying close watch on Draco at mealtimes and in the Slytherin common room. Luckily however, he couldn't play watchout in the Library when they studied. Madame Prince made sure that any student being seen within the near vicinity of them was to be put to detention immediately. (She was really big on winning this thing) Besides, the Library closed near eight o'clock when their sessions began. Draco was thankful.
However Blaise's presence did impose a great impact on him. Knowing Blaise was scrutinizing his very movements was like being violently thrown back into the past, it was like being thrown back into reality and being shackled to it. Granger was completely off limits, and he hated her…or at least he tried with every fibre in his body to. He couldn't hate her; he could just hate her heritage but not her. He still stood for the reasons in which purebloods were superior in every aspect, but then what would that make she? To hell with all the other mudbloods in this godforsaken school but to him she was the special one. Although the thought presented a tinge of disgust he remembered: truth was not gentle, it was harsh, demeaning and glaring.
If he could not hate her, then he would feign it. That was something he excelled at especially. He was born to learn that very quality. The quality of manipulation… Manipulation and influence, it was the very corner stones of the rich and successful. Feigning hatred was not to be a problem for him. He discovered that in his early years, every emotion was accessibly easy. The most difficult principle or emotion to feign was courage. Fear was paralysing and blatant – easy to recognise and easy to pinpoint. It had taken many years for him to perfect courage. It made him so ridiculously mad when he thought of the Gryffindors because they could fake nothing. They wore their emotions on their sleeve and instantly they were courageous super-heroes. Heroic and daring. Potter was the perfect example. They were born with courage while Draco had to work at it – but he was a Slytherin, determination was also a trait Salazar idealised and he had to take pride in that.
I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. She is nothing to me. She is a mudblood. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.
That was his mantra. It kept his façade solid and firm. He did not look at her at mealtimes, he sneered when passing her in hallways and had returned to his old habit: Being disgusted at her when at the breakfast table. Although at the moment, Blaise was still not entirely convinced. But Draco was confident he knew it was only a matter of time before Blaise would accept that the natural patterns of life had been reinstated.
But Lord. Merlin oh Merlin, it was one day and already he was finding this difficult. Self control, Draco had enough to last him a lifetime and then some. It was arduous and took all of it to keep his act from crumbling beneath his fingertips. In the day and a half in which he had undergone his ignorance crusade he had learned one crucial thing about life: Temptation was just as dangerous as fear. Though it was paralysing it was impulsive, but the extreme danger of the both of them was that both were blatantly obvious. Therefore both were extreme disadvantages when imbuing yourself within a clandestine…affair… or romance, if you will. Avoiding Hermione Granger was very hard. She was ubiquitous she was everywhere. The fact that she was granted the position as Head Girl did not help things either, but what did help, was that she apparently was doing her best to avoid him also.
Two nights ago - night when they almost kissed, Hermione decided to evade him until she could thoroughly sift through her scattered thoughts. People normally went away for a while to think or to get some fresh air to regain their clarity, and since Hermione could do neither with a busy schedule and a bustling school she did the closest thing she could do. She avoided the problem – him. Only, the more she tried to avoid him, the more he kept appearing and it was apparent that he was doing his best to avoid her also. So why then did fate become so evilly twisted and decide to continually bring them together? She almost kissed the guy for heaven's sake! She needed peace of mind and closure! But no, he was always there. Out of all her options, ranging from cutting ties with him to forming a relationship with him – which was so crazy it was almost obscene – she decided to simply pretend like it never happened. It always worked for the meantime. For the meantime being the operative words.
Although both did their best to avoid each other and think through this situation, they both knew that it was inevitable that they had to meet, the night after the next. It was this formidably fearful moment that both Hermione and Draco dreaded for the past two days: The moment in which the both of them would finally be obliged to meet.
When Hermione reached their table that night she determinedly stalked in with a nervously wide smile plastered across her features. "Good evening Draco" She greeted cheerfully, feigning her cheeriness. Was she being too obvious? She practically beamed at him. He said nothing in reply and neither did he acknowledge that she was vivaciously standing in front of him. Hermione stood there awkwardly for a moment deciding her next course of action. Quickly she sat down. Although she was very unsure of herself at this very moment, she putting up a damn good show to hide it… sort of. She was good at sticking to what she knew, and that was a book. Often within the duration of their time she'd look up to him to say something, open her mouth, close it and say nothing at all. However Draco said nothing, did nothing and practically ignored her.
Although on the surface he emitted the impression of rude ignorance, inside he was well aware of her awkwardness, tension and uneasiness. He had even taken notice of the moments where she reluctantly looked to face him perhaps to catch his eye and start a conversation. He did not look up, face her or even say 'hello' in spite of its difficulty, he did it anyway. This was his plan. His arduous plan. The forces of nature had somehow been suspended between them, it was time he put them back in its place.
Sighing, he looked up, though determinedly avoiding her eye and all the while making it look natural. It was a large Library with an old high roof adorned with cobwebs occupying the timber planks. Within one of these silvery strings he saw a spider. There was an insect caught in this spider's web and the more it tried to escape and release itself from the sticky silvery substance, the more it was wound up in it. The spider, eerily and symbolically crimson in colour crept up to this failing insect and swallowed it whole. The poor creature was now lost inside this red predator. He had no reason why he was so engrossed in this small yet naturally grotesque scene but he tore his eyes away from it knowing that her eyes were on him as well. Rolling his eyes he finally acknowledged she was in the room.
"Yes?" He asked scathingly.
"Um… I was just wondering…I." Hermione began tentatively. The words had soon left her.
"Spit it out, I haven't got all day." He snapped, looking at her as if she were a squashed bug underneath his expensive Italian leather shoe. Looking a little hurt by his expression and the horrible tone of his voice, she ploughed on.
"… Never mind." She muttered quietly, looking away. However, a split second later she gathered her courage deciding to face him. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked ever so earnestly. He gave her a look of disgust, rolled his silver eyes and never gave her an answer. He was making her feel really stupid right now. "What did I do?"
"Don't talk to me." He spat looking as if she offended him. She blinked, quelling her rising anger. What was up with this bloke?
"Tell me, what the hell did I do?" She said forcefully, raising her voice in frustration. Again, studying was completely forgotten.
"And I told you don't talk to me, don't even look at me and shut up. Your voice is irritating so do as I say and shut your trap." He snapped.
"Malfoy -" She reached out to touch him but he slapped her hand away looking disgusted. "Ok now what the hell is wrong with you? Who are you? Why are you acting like this?"
"I said shut up mudblood!" He yelled. The look on her face at that moment was enough to tug at quite a few of his heartstrings. Draco looked away and closed his eyes to collect himself. This is all part of the plan. The plan. Remember the plan. He checked his watch briefly and made for the exit.
"Hey!" Hermione called, running up to him and grabbing his robes. He turned to her, gave her a look of ice and yanked his robes out of her grasp muttering something about burning them tomorrow. Draco exited roughly pulling open the Library doors and sighed heavily running a hand thickly through his hair. He left her there.
"Damn… at least the difficult part is over… I hate her. I hate her and I should act accordingly which is exactly what I did so hoorah for me." He sighed. Though as much as he had praised himself for his unwavering and consistent performance, he could not erase from his mind the heartbreaking picture of her torn expression. He did not know exactly how long he could continue with this façade.
Hermione watched him leave feeling utter misery hinted with confusion. She blinked back her rising tears and packed up her books. "And they said women were confusing." She mumbled vehemently in a fuelled anger. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Why is he so rude? Why did he bloody treat me that way? Well, it should come as to no surprise I mean he is Malfoy but…he was different. Not the Malfoy I know. Wait, do I know him?" Soliloquies were things she often recited not for theatrics and effect but out of pure habit.
That night Hermione decided to confront him. Malfoy was being a stupid child and she had to get to the bottom of this renewed act of hatred. She had no idea what she did. He was trying to kiss her not the other way around. Late into the night, she was contriving her own little plan.
Draco looked around the corner to check for any sign of her. She was gone. Emitting a great sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxed and he continued down the dim lamp lit corridor on his way to the Slytherin dungeons back from classes. The entire day Granger had been following him. He had no idea as to the reason behind this act of espionage on her behalf; he was quite convinced that his performance the previous evening was enough to coerce her into despising him again. What was this girl? He thought to himself helplessly. As much as he knew she wanted to remain concealed to spy on him to catch a moment when he was vulnerable and confront him, she wasn't very good at it. Either that or he could acknowledge the fact that he spent his childhood years learning to recognising things such as these, such as espionage. In an instant he was yanked from the side and off his feet.
"Ah! Who the bloody hell! Unhand me you blundering uncouth pervert!" Draco yelled blindly as he vacillated into a dark and empty classroom with none other than the girl that he was trying to avoid. All day. Didn't expect that. "Oh, it's you."
"Yes me." Said Hermione with an untimely sense of authority, which happened to suit the situation just perfectly. She stood there towering over his fallen body, her hands on her hips. Draco thought she was such a pain in the ass when she did that, it made him feel like such an idiot.
"What the hell do you want?" He snapped in annoyance as he scrambled off the floor trying to regain his dignity. He refrained from smiling as he stood. He loved being taller than her just so then she'd have to look up to him. And when he saw her head slowly recline to his height, his dignity was reinstated along with his immensely large superiority complex.
"What did I do?" She asked, looking at him almost angrily.
"Be born." He drawled, crossing his arms and looking away as if she wasn't worth looking at. It was extremely difficult to do that to her and yet he did. He practically portrayed the air and the look of an arrogant dick everyday - he couldn't discern what made this occasion different from the rest. The way that she looked at him just then was just plain scary. She was very scary when she was livid.
"Don't give me that prejudiced bullshit. And give me an answer." Warned Hermione turning shades of red. Ok, thought Draco, now she's mad. However I'd rather not say anything, perhaps its time to bail. Draco simply stared at her lazily his cover illustrating no indication that it would crack. This was his talent. He rolled his eyes and turned away.
"Get lost." He muttered over his shoulder opening the door, so that the dim light bathed the room in a shy yellow. This infuriated Hermione.
"Why are you acting like this?" She yelled, in his pursuit.
"Because I hate you." He said brusquely over his shoulder quickening his pace to hopefully escape her. There was no such hope.
"Oh really? You hate me?" She asked in loud and exaggerated scepticism as she trailed him. "Then why did you almost kiss me?" She asked in a loud stage whisper. Draco, completely thrown off by this question, stopped dead in his tracks.
"Bloody smart." He mumbled underneath his breath. It took a full moment to wonder whether he should turn around and drop this act or keep walking. He decided to proceed with his initial thought: bail. He continued to walk at a brisk pace until his echoing footsteps were no longer heard, by this time he was out of sight. Hermione watched him leave, a wild anger rising in her chest. With a loud cry of frustration, a cry that sounded like a furious cat, she stomped deliberately back to her dorm cursing as she went.
Draco returned to his dorm, cursing loudly. It was a very intelligent question to ask, one that took him aback almost completely. He collapsed onto his bed, glaring at the ceiling. He was angry at the fact that she had this sort of effect on him it was ludicrous. He could easily do the same thing to Pansy and feel no remorse. Pansy he could ignore, hate and insult, even if she was one of his 'friends' (that word is so overrated, thought he). The girl had a two-second-rebound rate. Besides, Pansy wasn't Hermione. Granger 'cared' for him (another overrated term), and that was an amazing feat. She was on to him and he knew it. He had to admit even his own actions were odd, from a conversational relationship plunged back into hatred. It was confusing but necessary.
The next day he wanted to make his message clear. Every time he saw her, he wasn't going to turn his head and act like an arrogant snob, he wasn't going to glare at her with everything he had, he was going to treat her like he did with all the mudbloods, like shit. Why should she be exempted? You could call this dire result childish, but he however, called this new sub-plan ingenious, even though he disregarded the fact that even Neville Longbottom could have done the same. Potions first period – time to test his method.
Draco sat back lazily on his chair and rested his feet up onto the chair in front of him, he looked like a perfect arrogant ass. He smirked at all as he did so. He received a few despicable glares of disgust from some Gryffindors but he couldn't give a damn about them. There was only one person that this scene was intended for. And there she was. She walked in as her hair flew about her. She took one glance in his direction to find him already glaring venomously at her as if she was the reincarnation of Hitler or something, not that he would know who Hitler was anyway.
She walked in and Draco was in position. He glared at her as coldly and as hatefully as he could, it seemed to be working. At first she looked confused but a split second later she was glaring back at him with a superfluous flair. Feeling ousted; he gave her an obscene hand gesture. It was the universally insulting gesture where only one finger was standing. The gesture yielded the exact results he was hoping for. Looking extremely insulted, a vein popped in her head. She retrieved her wand from her robe and pointed it at him.
Immediately he was scared. Never underestimate the power of Hermione Granger with a wand in hand and a head full of useful spells.
He relaxed however, when Professor Snape in all his dreaded bat-like glory, stalked in and she hastily stowed her wand away. For the remainder of the lesson he was very contented sitting there in the dungeon up until the last few remaining minutes when Goyle pointedly looked at him. His face was screwed up as if he was trying to sort out a difficult problem. He looked like a fat pug involved in a freakish car accident that seemed to have introverted his features.
"Er… uh Draco?" Asked Goyle stupidly. "Where are your eyebrows?"
Draco's jaw dropped. - Gasp. Shock. The Horror! - His hand flew to his face. Immediately Draco scrambled into his robes for his pocket-mirror (oh-so-vain) and checked that his two perfectly blonde arcs were still in place. He didn't need to though for he knew for once that Goyle was right.
"THAT BITCH!" Whispered Draco upon confirming that his perfectly shaped eyebrows had been cleanly erased. Hastily extracting his own wand, Draco reinstated his formerly missing eyebrows… He suddenly found that hating Hermione Granger was becoming a much easier task. Much easier. "She made me an eyebrow-less freak!" Draco whispered to himself. "How dare she, how dare that smug little harpy!"
"Is there anything the matter Mr Malfoy?" Said Snape suddenly. Draco's head snapped up and he feigned the look of innocence.
"It's nothing sir." Said Draco darkly, shooting a deadly glare in Hermione's direction. She looked back at him with a contented smug expression; it was like looking into a mirror. "Laugh it up bitch, laugh it up…" He muttered as Snape returned to his sharp-witted lecture. This time, he was determined. And when he was determined, he was unstoppable. "…While you can."
After that smug expression from Hermione, Draco vowed to crush her. She was not going to get the last laugh, that he knew. Tuning Snape's dreadful lecture out of his mind, he spent the last few minutes of the lesson vindictively scheming against her. Even if he was the girl that he envisioned in his dreams (he hoped that they would really go away, then again he welcomed them in some oxymoron fashion) their entire relationship was oxymoronic. Such irony! Devious conspiring ensued, and suddenly Draco was beginning to like even more his certain connections with certain individuals…especially the dead. His plan would commence the following day…
Hermione was ready to explode. She wanted to scream until her lungs burned for oxygen, shrivelled up and died. That was how annoyed she was. For the entirety of the day ever since breakfast and all through during classes, Peeves followed her. And it wasn't like he was trying to hide it either; he was constantly in her face the entire time. And as if that weren't bad enough, every time she opened her mouth whether she was speaking or not, he blew an insanely loud raspberry, making sure to shower her with transparent saliva. Hermione only had a very shrewd idea as to who was responsible for this deliberate…disturbance.
Draco sat back at the dinner table and marvelled at the chaos he created. His eyes glistened and almost teared from laughter as he watched for the umpteenth time, Hermione's cheeks flush red in a raging fury. Peeves was perfect, he was insatiable. This was the exact effect Draco had been hoping for. I am a genius, he thought to himself smugly. "That's right laugh it up." He chuckled. "Laugh it up."
He took another sip of his pumpkin juice and smiled maliciously, a maddening glint his eye as Peeves blew another wet raspberry. He gulped the juice deliciously savouring the moment, forever thankful that the previous night he had popped off to the Bloody Baron for a lovely little chat.
Blaise who was sitting beside Draco, laughed along with him. "Genius Draco, absolute hilarity!" He gasped. He immediately knew what was going on. Blaise had seen what a certain Head Girl had done to Draco's eyebrows in Potions the day before. He must have been really affected by it, thought Blaise inwardly, Draco usually doesn't speak with the Bloody Baron, because he's shit scared of him and all. But even though this conniving prank was out of the norm to Draco, or any Slytherin for that matter, he had never seen Draco more lively. And in fact, he no longer quibbled of Crabbe and Goyle's snoring, which was an earth-shattering feat as it was like an obligatory daily ritual.
Hermione tossed and turned in her luxuriously soft covers that night. The fact that they were warm and luxurious did not help. Finally she threw off the covers in frustration and sighed. Peeves' raspberries had finally been kyboshed. After dinner, Peeves had trailed along after her, bobbing annoyingly around her head right up to the Gryffindor Tower and almost into her private dorm. That was until Professor McGonagall with her lopsided hat and flared nostrils, ordered him out quite vehemently.
Letting out a long slow breath, she replaced her covers and turned to her side. Hermione closed her eyes and put her hands together in concentration. Revenge was in process.
When Draco woke that morning, he felt refreshed and free. The incidents of the previous day had been extremely welcoming, and not to mention relaxing. Laughing and amusement was the quickest cure for any sorrow. Ah, if only such an ethereal utopia outlasted an eternity. He brushed and showered as per usual, but the real dilemma only had begun as he stepped in front of the mirror as he wore his trousers. Hermione's revenge was already taking effect. He didn't believe it at first and thought it was some odd trick of the light, or some dream-like illusion. For a moment he even considered that he was trapped inside a nightmarish hell and pinched himself hard. It wasn't a dream. When he came to this realisation, he screamed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, drowning out the monstrosity of Crabbe and Goyle's snores combined. His hands slapped to his face in absolute horror, his face ivory white, and his mouth dry. He stared unblinkingly at himself, seized in shock. Cities fell, the heavens rained fire and the earth was swallowed whole.
Etched clearly on his face in large capital letters were horrific letters. "V…" He read weakly, "…I…R…" and they were written in – "G…I…" – pimples, they shone and pulsated as large mountainous bumps on his flawless skin in all their painful pus glory. As he recited the last letter, he remembered… these were irremovable. He screamed. He screamed enough to wake the dead.
Crabbe stirred. "…Draco…?" Immediately Draco whipped around.
"Don't look at me!" He yelled as if he were a hideous malformed failure of a science project. Sparing not a second, he dashed straight into the bathroom and locked the door. Panting, he ran a hand through his hair. That bitch, that evil, evil cruel bitch… Draco knew these pimples were irrevocable, he knew about that Ravenclaw girl… Marietta Edgecombe was her name. She still has the word 'sneak' written across her face and Draco knew that only Hermione was powerful enough to preform such identifiable magic, this must have been a variation of it.
Suddenly, someone pounded heavily on the door. "Oi Draco! What the hell's wrong? You woke up the whole freaking castle!"
"Shit… Blaise." Draco breathed worriedly. "I can't let him see me like this."
"Draco come out and tell me what the hell is wrong!" Blaise yelled forcefully. "Pansy is worried hell about you!"
"Go away Blaise." Came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The small crowd that had congregated like an interested swarm of ants behind Blaise, listened intently.
"Draco… what's going on?" Asked Blaise quietening his tone. He pressed his ear up against. From what he could hear, Draco was clearly slumped against it, breathing raggedly.
"Never you mind Blaise." Snapped Draco, finally coming into terms with his usual self. He pushed off the bathroom door and began to examine himself in the semi-fogged up mirror. As he carefully scrutinized his face in an almost mourning fashion, a soft thump was heard on the other side. "And you can also tell those nosy little idiots listening in to get the hell out and go to breakfast!" He bellowed grumpily. "Out, now! And Blaise, you're wasting your time because I am not coming out!"
"Quick, get out of here before he curses you all!" Blaise whispered quickly to the crowd, ushering them out. "You too Pansy." A distressed looking Pansy took a last worried glance at the door and followed suit. Draco heard the shuffling of feet and he knew that everyone was out, except Blaise.
"I told you Blaise…" Draco began to warn. An exasperated sigh.
"So you're not even coming to breakfast?" Asked Blaise. "You're neglecting your beloved coffee?" He was using this as some sort of coaxing mechanism.
"I'll be lucky to even get to classes at all." Draco mumbled miserably. A few minutes passed with Blaise urging Draco to emerge from the confines of the bathroom. "Bloody hell, okay!" Yelled Draco.
"So, you're coming out?"
"NO!" Draco tried a few more spells to remove the pulsating pus volcanoes from his face. As he expected, it didn't work. "… Fine if you're really that desperate then find Marietta Edgecombe, Raveclaw, if you're intelligent enough, you'll know what happened."
With a sigh, Blaise rolled his eyes and resigned to the fact that this was the only clue he'd receive from him. He didn't know who the hell Marietta Edgecombe was anyway.
Draco appeared to be absent from all his classes today realised Hermione as she sat back in her chair smugly, almost appearing to be the exact image of Draco. She basked in this triumphant glory. Absolute glory. The spell must have worked, she was sure as hell glad that, that spell did actually work. Heck, she spent almost all night occupied in attempts to invent a variation of the spell she had put over that piece of paper two years ago when the DA was still in course. Everyone was now well acquainted with who Marietta was: a SNEAK. And if Draco had allowed anyone to see his face they would know that he was… well, she didn't know if he was one or not. She simply enigmatically knew that such a word emblazoned across his face would damage quite a lot of his pride. She giggled in delight. Sweet delightful glory, sweet triumph, they whispered her name.
It had been hours now as Draco checked his watch. He had been slumped all in his dorm. About an hour after everyone left he finally exited the bathroom and prowled into his room and hastily locked the door so there was not a chance that any wandering student could have walked in on him in his current state. Whenever he was hungry, he dared not escape but instead he conjured food. This plan suited him for a while. Although these horrendous pimples refused to fade, there was one thing that bothered him amongst other things, boredom.
He had spent the first hour cursing the Granger girl whilst happily dreaming gory and agonising methods in which to murder her, but his dreams could only entertain him for only so long. The next hour he spent uselessly cursing the pimples themselves. He never ever was unfortunate enough to have to suffer the damning adolescent occurrence of pimples and he prided himself in that. It was part of what he thought made him look desirable. This then led to the further expansion of his ego. But to even just have one! He would turn mad. But ten-zillion bumpy pus filled abominations conveniently arranged in a special formation, was humiliation beyond reprieve. That was humiliation beyond being seen with a Weasley. Virgin, she just had to choose that word. Smart girl. That damn smart girl. Damn her to the depths of hell.
He checked his watch again, probably for the fifth time that hour. It was dinnertime; everyone would be in the Great Hall. He pondered the thought of stepping outside and seeing daylight for once, but decided against it. There would be some stragglers; he wouldn't risk being seen. He had to surface somehow. Perhaps Blaise or someone who slept in his dorm had a mask. Unlikely, but his desperation was drawing on the horizon.
He began rummaging through everyone's trunks. Some may call this an extreme breach of privacy, however he didn't care. He doubted that his room mates would give a damn either. Besides, he was Draco Malfoy. He could do anything. Just as he emptied the contents of Blaise's trunk he came across a book. Not just any book. It appeared to be some sort of graphic pornographic novel. Draco lifted an eyebrow. Blaise actually reads, I mean, looks at this! He reads this vulgar rubbish? Draco, half-interested flipped casually through it. Sure he was like any other average adolescent male, he too had his sexual desires and appreciated the assets of the female body. He flicked to a page. There. The witch was painstakingly hot and sexy, however she was tacky, no class. Completely vulgar, no modesty no class, she was certainly not brought up with the right heritage. He'd rather appreciate girls who were real and none of these fake dream model stereotypes he'd never get his hands on. Apparently Blaise was different.
"Alohomora!" Bang!
In an instant the said teenage boy made an appearance in the doorway. Draco yelped and grabbed a pillow to conceal his face. Blaise stood there staring at Draco confusedly. "Draco…oh you found it. You could have just asked me for it…"
"What?" The novel dropped from his hands. "What? No way! You actually look at this tacky rubbish?" Draco's muffled voice came from behind the pillow.
"Nope." Said Blaise smoothly, "Confiscated it. Earned Slytherin quite a few points."
"Oh." Sighed Draco. Thank God. "What are you doing here?"
"You should have told me about the pimples." Said Blaise. Marietta Edgecombe was not so hard to find. She still had remnants of SNEAK written across her nose and cheeks. "What word did she write on you?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "You really do not want to know the answer to that."
"Try me."
Draco looked hesitant. "You dare laugh and I will make sure to hex you into next week and deem you unemployable for life. I have my connections you know." Draco warned. Blaise looked eager and radiant. Slowly the pillow lifted from Draco's face. Inch by inch revealing apprehensively the horror that lay beneath. Blaise squinted to read the word. "V-I-R-G-I- HA!" He erupted in the loudest laughter Draco had ever heard. He sounded like a mental patient on a ridiculous ecstasy high. Draco glared and brandished his wand within two-seconds.
"Blaise." He said warningly. Blaise contained his laughter and tried to look Draco in the eye. His lower lip quivered and his eyes began to tear. It was not long before Blaise was bellowing with laughter. Again.
Oh the humiliation…
"Petrificus Totalus!" Blaise's body fell limp and landed with a hollow echo like a piece of freshly cut timber. "Try laughing now." Draco scowled at Blaise and retrieved a silk black handkerchief from his trunk and tried it about his face so only his eyes upwards could be seen. Stepping in front of the mirror, his scowl deepened. He looked like a cheap bandit. God help him. Turning around, he muttered the counter-jinx and Blaise was up.
"You're really going to walk around the school looking like that?" Asked Blaise, nonplussed.
"Do have a better idea?" Draco snapped, stressing every word.
"You look ridiculous."
"Yes, I've established that." Said Draco darkly as he thrust open the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To the Library." And with that Draco left. He crept stealthily through the dungeons and halls making sure to not be seen. He wished more than anything did at the moment that he could have Potter's invisibility cloak, he would buy one, but they were an extremely rare find. Slipping quietly through the Library doors he immediately dived into an empty row of shelves, hoping not to be noticed. He wanted to be lost inside the Labyrinth of bookshelves as quick as he could.
Hours later, after dodging quite a few encounters, some them coincidentally happened to be Hermione Granger stalking around (at these points he did everything in his power to resist Avada-ing her), he finally found a book with a cure. It was the thinnest book in this Library and it was a wonder that he spotted between two insanely large ones, and it told him the simplest cure, Essence of Murtlap. It was really simple, they had that stuff in abundance around the school and in the hospital wing. Instead of this simple fact bring joy and relief to Draco, it only caused him to grow angrier.
"Essence of freaking-Murtlap! It was that freaking simple! How bloody ridiculous! I'm going to kill her! She designed the jinx to be so bloody simple to remove so I wouldn't think of removing that way!" He hated her; it was her intelligence that he hated the most. She was too cunning, she should have been put in Slytherin, or Ravenclaw to the very least. But Gryffindor? What was the hat thinking? That was just shameful. In three seconds he was off his seat and on his way to the hospital wing.
Draco slowly opened his eyes, squinting before fully allowing himself to see his reflection. He had just applied Essence of Murtlap to his virgin pimples and found that his skin was blemish free. He felt elated, jovial, relieved. Uncharacteristically pumping his fist into the air, he let out a cry of glee. It was as if he were a child again. Breathing out evenly he collected himself and cleared his throat. "I am calm, perfect, I am a Malfoy." That was his reassuring sentence. The one sentence kept him under control. His face was clean! Free! Now…to rub it into the face of Hermione Granger. Only, he would have to wait until their meeting the next day, he didn't have any classes with her tomorrow.
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