AN: thank you for all of the nice reviews! And DON'T WORRY! Draco is not going soft. Hell no. Probably never, and if he is, it won't be for a while, and trust me, if he does he won't be going that soft, haha. And without further ado, here's the second chapter!

Detentions

Written By Jami Ruggeri

August 2nd, 2006

Chapter Two: Knickers and Fags

Hermione awoke in the Hospital Wing, a searing pain in her skull. She touched the back of her head, but this time it was not bleeding. 'Madam Pomfrey must have worked her magic,' She thought, no pun intended. She sat up, ignoring her throbbing headache, and peered around the room. She was the only student there. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall bustled into the room, a stern expression on her face.

"I see you're now awake, Miss Granger." The Head of Gryffindor House said to her. Hermione nodded. "Well, Mr. Malfoy told me everything when he walked into my office the other night carrying you. He told me that he provoked you, as usual, and you had acted by punching him in the stomach and chest." She had a hint of a smile on her features. "He confessed that he threw you down, which was the cause of the bleeding and minor concussion you have acquired. You should be fully cured by tomorrow morning, and as are the consequences, you and Mr. Malfoy will have detentions together, cleaning the dungeon classrooms. Of course, since he has no concussion and his injuries are limited, he shall have a week's detention, and you only three days. Maybe now you two will learn how to work together as a team and to get along more nicely? You are, after all, Head Girl and Boy." She finished and gave Hermione a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall."

That evening it was particularly hard to fall asleep for Hermione. She shifted in her bed again, and peered over at the clock on the wall. It read that it was only eight thirty six. Hermione was hungry, and she hadn't been able to eat when earlier Madam Pomfrey had given her a well-made dinner. Her head had been hurting too much. But now, after the medicine she had received, she was finally in a good state to eat. Too bad there was nothing to eat. She sighed and turned onto her back, her stomach rumbling.

"Hungry, Granger?"

Hermione sat up. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"Can't a guy visit the girl he gave a concussion to?" He smirked and sat down onto her bed. "Well, detention together… at least for three days. Should be fun, right?" He chuckled; Hermione let a small smile escape her lips.

"I suppose." She said, and played with her hair, which was quite greasy, and she let it fall to one side of her shoulder. "And yes, I am starving. Don't reckon you have anything to eat, do you?"

Malfoy shook his head and got up off the bed. "No, but I could go to the kitchens and ask the house-elves to make something for you."

"That would be nice." She said, smiling. "Rather odd that you would even offer, but alright." He shrugged.

"Well… it's… the least I could do." It sounded as if he had a rather hard time telling her that. He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Thanks, Malfoy. That's very kind of you." Hermione told him, knowing that he deserved kind words at his offer. She didn't want him to be embarrassed by just offering to get her some food.

"Ah, right. I'll be off then." And he left.

Hermione woke up the next morning, a Monday, satisfied about the night before. The soup and biscuits were quite tasty and she was glad that Malfoy had gotten them for her. The only thing she dreaded about the day was that she had to spend the night in detention. And with Malfoy. 'Hopefully it won't be so bad. I pray to Merlin that we don't end up fighting again. I don't want another concussion.' She walked into the Great Hall and sat down beside Ron and Harry.

"'Mione! We're so glad you're okay!" Harry smiled and said through mouthfuls of pancakes.

"Yeah, Hermione. I swear, I'll hex Malfoy so bad he'll won't know what hit him." Ron said, a look of determination on his face as he peered over at the Slytherin table.

"Really, Ron, I'm sure detention with me for three nights is quite enough punishment." She said, tucking in her pancakes and bacon.

"No way. He deserves to be hexed to know end. No one gives my friends concussions and gets away with no injuries himself."

"It's fine, Ron. I'm sure he's learned his lesson."

"Oi, 'Mione? What are you defending him for? He harassed you and injured your head! Injured it quite a lot if you ask me." Ron exclaimed, gulping a bit of bacon down.

"Yes, Ron, I am well aware of the injuries he inflicted upon me. I'll make sure to hex him for it later…" She lied, and trailed off as the owl-post flew in, an owl dropping a Daily Prophet in front of her. She began reading it.

In Potions that day Malfoy lecherously wiggled his eyebrows at her, and in return, Hermione offered him one raised eyebrow in amusement.

The day was going by slowly and by lunch Hermione was ready to pass out from exhaustion. Having loads of homework topped with head girl duties and trying her best to keep up with Harry and Ron was just all too much. But she was Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Golden Girl, and Brightest Witch of her Age. It was a well-known title, and if she couldn't do it, no one could.

Finally seven o'clock rolled around and Hermione headed downstairs to the dungeons where she was permitted to meet Malfoy and Professor Snape to get instructions as to how they were spending their detentions.

She entered Snape's classroom where he greeted her with a scowl, as usual. She sat down in a random seat close to his desk where he was sitting. Obviously, Malfoy was late. Hermione checked her watch. 'Oh, for Merlin's sake. Let's just get this over with.'

No more than two minutes later Malfoy bustled into the dark classroom, a robust graceful air to him. He sat down beside Hermione. "Where were you?" She asked him.

"I was being fashionably late, of course." He told her matter-of-factly. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, now that you are both present, without further ado I will tell you what needs to be done. You can start with my classroom. Dust the tables, desks, and bookshelves, anything that needs tending to. Once finished with that you may start alphabetizing my book collection, over on the right wall. It's quite a collection so I don't think you'll be leaving for another few hours." He paused for their reactions. None came.

'That's not too bad. As long as I have my trusty wand…'

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," Snape added before leaving the classroom. "You are not allowed to use magic. Enjoy yourselves." Malfoy snorted. And with that he left the two alone.

"Oh, perfect." Hermione groaned. "Just what I needed." She got up and walked over to a random cabinet where luckily she found a few feather dusters at her first attempt. Soon she began working on the cabinets and shelves full of potion vials and extra cauldrons and ingredients. After about five minutes Hermione noticed that her partner was still sitting in his chair. She turned to face him. "Something wrong, Malfoy?"

He smirked. "Of course not. Why do you ask?" Hermione was confused.

"You're not dusting. You're still sitting in your chair.'

"I know. I'd much rather you do all of that Muggle work. It's really just not my style." He said, and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head and his legs upon the table.

"I don't really give a rat's ass what your style is. You have to serve this detention as well. Now get up, and help me."

"Well, well, well. You certainly are feisty this evening." He grinned at her appalled expression.

"Shut up, you." And she threw him a duster.

"I don't think so." He put the duster on the table.

"Oh, c'mon! Just do it. The sooner we finish we can leave!" He sighed and got up.

"Fine, how about I go and work on the books while you dust? Things will go much more quickly that way."

"Oh, sure! You go and do the easy work while I have to get all dirty!"

"Oh, just quit complaining already. I said I would do work, that's better than what I was initially going to do, so just shut that pretty little mouth of yours up and we can get out of here."

Hermione was rendered without anything to say, so she balled her fists and clenched her teeth and continued to work without saying anything more to him.

About forty-five minutes later Malfoy was on the O's and Hermione was on her hands and knees dusting the lower shelves filled with the old, extra copies of potions books, most of them for first and second years. Malfoy was having a hard time keeping track with the O's and was soon getting them mixed up with the Q's and not noticing because of the lovely sight he got to watch on the floor. Every time she leaned forward a little, her skirt would ride up and Malfoy got to see the slightest bit of her green knickers. So lucky was he that not only was it his favorite color, but one of his house colors as well. He thought it was ironic.

Feeling mischievous, Malfoy grabbed a random book and tossed it to the floor, a little bit in front of Hermione, just enough so she had to reach to get it. He smirked, "Granger, you mind getting that for me?"

"I would think you would be a little more poised, Malfoy…"

Ah, yes. There she went. One knee lurched a tiny bit forward, revealing her milky, lean thighs and quite a lovely little eyeful of her lacy knickers. She then stood, book in hand, and dusting off her skirt, she walked towards him and handed him the abandoned artifact. "Thanks, Granger." And he gave her the sexiest smirk he could muster. She grinned.

"You're very welcome, Malfoy, but the next time you want to catch a glimpse of my knickers, you could just ask." She gave him a know-it-all look with raised eyebrows and pursed lips and turned away, continuing her work.

He was first stunned and caught off guard with her statement. How had she known? He thought he was being sneaky. But then again, once he got to thinking, she really was smart and he guessed he wasn't being as smooth and as shady as he thought. Then he gave a real smile, hiding it behind a ratty old book starting with the letter R. She had just given him a show, knowing full well that it was what he had wanted, meaning she had been flirting. Prude, stuck-up, know-it-all Granger had flirted with him! How awfully surprising it was. Draco was truly proud of himself, probably being one of the first that has ever been flirted with by Granger. He wanted to applaud himself at the thought, but it quickly vanished when he felt breath upon his shoulder, giving him chills at the nape of his neck. He turned to face her.

"Yes?" He asked.

"I've finished dusting, so now I'm going to help you alphabetize." Almost immediately she stepped in front of him and began her quick alphabetizing. Not caring about work anymore, Malfoy studied the figure in front of him. He hair, bushy, but slightly tamed to what he was used to back in the day. They were soft honey-brown curls, and a tad bit knotty, but it made her look animalistic, which he liked. The curve of her hips, nicely shaped, but not too big. Her bum, very nicely shaped. He almost wanted to reach out and rub his hand upon it. He inwardly laughed, knowing full well he would get slapped to death if he even tried. His gaze went back to her unruly curls, and that he touched, lightly caressing the soft locks. To his surprise they were much softer than they looked. She stiffened at the contact, and turned to face him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, almost whispering. He said nothing, but studied her features from this view. She had chocolate brown eyes, big and saucer-shaped. It gave her an innocent look. Deep within the sweet brown he detected a fiery orange that twinkled with her true Gryffindor ways. Her cheeks were slightly pink, most likely because he had been petting her like a kitten just a few moments ago. Ah, her lips. They were slightly open, her breath in heavy, quiet pants. Simple and delicate was her top lip, and her bottom lip was full and luscious. Her neck was defined and womanly, the part of her that kept her head held high in certain situations. Her breasts, not much he could observe through her vest and white collared top, but they were there. Probably very soft, he thought. They weren't huge like Pansy's (which he really wasn't a fan of), but not overly small. They were perky. That he liked. Thin, she was, but with meat on her. And then he was back to her face when he noticed her nervous shifting. "Wh-why are you staring?" She asked him breathlessly. Having been under his gaze for several moments made her feel nauseous. And she was swooning under his hungry gaze. Why was he making her feel like this? It was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. She wasn't supposed to be in any way attracted to him.

"Err… are you finished yet?" He said, changing the subject, not wanting her to press any further. She gave him a confused look.

"Um, almost done. I just have a quick bit to finish." She turned around quickly, hoping to Merlin he wouldn't start caressing her hair again, and finished up what alphabetizing she had left. She then checked her watch. "Hmm… well, we got finished in only an hour. Funny, Snape thought it was going to take us forever, it seemed."

"Ah, well. Snape doesn't really have a lot of confidence in his students." He said.

"Yes, I noticed."

Awkward silence.

"Fag?" He broke the quiet.

"Excuse me?"

He felt through his pocket and held out a packet of cigarettes. A look of realization struck her features.

"Oh, umm…" She thought through the matter. It was just one cigarette. It wasn't very likely that she would want another. This was just for experience. Plus, she just worked her ass off cleaning up Snape's stupid potions classroom. She needed someway to relax. But before she had time to respond, he grabbed her hand and put the cigarette into her palm. "Well, okay."

He too got one out for himself and lit it, then lit hers. She sucked in through the filter, inhaling deeply. Suddenly it felt as if her throat had blackened and a great dusty ball was stuck in her lungs. She coughed madly, almost dropping the smoldering white stick. Malfoy laughed and patted her on the back. "It happens to everyone with their first fag. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it." She sputtered through her fit of coughs. "I give up." She went to give him the cigarette but he only smirked. "Take it. I don't want it anymore."

"I thought Gryffindors never gave up. C'mon, at least you can say that you actually got through smoking a fag without cowering out."

"Not everyone thinks smoking is cool, Malfoy."

"I don't, but why the hell not? It's just a cigarette. Wow, you really are a prude."

That stabbed Hermione a little harder than she thought it would. Mustering up her courage and pushing her senses to the back of her head, she put the cigarette to her lips again, and inhaled not as deeply this time. She kept the smoke inside her lungs for a moment, and then, deciding to show Malfoy who was boss, she blew the smoke in his face. 'He didn't even flinch, the bastard.'

"Did you know, Granger, in certain country's like America, blowing smoke directly in another's face means you want to fuck them?" Hermione almost gagged.

"No, I did not. And I certainly wasn't thinking about it." She put the fag to her lips again. He watched as her lips pursed around the cigarette, her chest heaved forward as she inhaled sharply, and as she let the smoke drift out of her mouth delicately and not anywhere near his face. Then her eyes were on him, almost waiting for him to say something.

With that, he gave a great puff on his cancer-stick, and, smirking, he bent down eye-level to her, and blew the smoke into her eyes. She stiffened, and finished her fag, throwing it on the floor and stepping on it.

"Well, seeing as how we're finished, I might as well get back to the Gryffindor common room. See you tomorrow evening."

And she left, quickly and without looking at him.

He too, finished his cigarette, tossed it to the stone floor, stepped on it, and left the classroom.

AN: well, there you have it. It's much more longer than the first chapter. Oh! And I've already started writing the third chapter! It's not finished though, but expect it to be done and posted soon!

Love and kisses,

Jami.