Desrosiers: Hey all! 8th chapter for you, before I have no power.
That's right, we have another MASSIVE hurricane on the way, 4 times
worse than the last. Hurricane Frances. May not be too many ipdates for
a while, so I wanted to post a few chapters before it hits.
Thanks to all my reviewers, you mean the world to me! Take care.
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Draco had received a pair of bright pink ballet slippers.
Jumping up from his bed, he made sure the door was locked. Draco cast a sound proof spell, and proceeded to walk to his bed, pounding his feet loudly on the floor.
With that, he screamed as loud as he possibly could. He could feel the room vibrating, yet no sound was escaping the tightly sealed room. And it was a good thing too; it was so loud the Ministry probably heard it.
He continued to scream until he had no energy (and no vocal chords) left. He slumped back onto his bed, kicking the slippers off the mattress in anger. First thing tomorrow, he was going to settle this with Flint. Settle it once and for all.
Hermione skipped happily into the Gryffindor common room, clearly having no thoughts on her mind whatsoever, as opposed to Draco.
She breathlessly slammed her hands down onto coffee table, where Ron happened to be making a card castle. Hmph. So much for that now.
"Hermione!" Ron groaned, as his castle fell noiselessly and cards scattered everywhere. "That took me hours!"
"Come on, Ron. Like you have nothing better to do that make pitiful little skeleton houses with pieces of paper?" Hermione huffed. He was not going to ruin her good mood, yet he did notice her huge grin.
"Why so cheery all of a sudden? Has Krum written you another lovey-dovey heart shaped letter?" Ron wasn't even sure if she still kept in touch with the Bulgarian Quidditch Seeker, but right now it was the only defense mechanism he had.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and flopped down in a chair. "For your information, Ronald, I have just been notified by a teacher that the upcoming school dance has been postponed due to that bloody nuisance. Leaving more time to study for exams!"
It was Ron's turn to do the eye rolling. "Crookshanks has gotten a dance postponed? Wow. He's got nothing on Fred and George."
Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner making a model of a joke shop peeped up from their supplies at the hearing of their names, but quickly got back to work.
"I mean Peeves, Ron. Get a grip." Hermione dusted off her robes that now had cat fur on them from the chair. "Apparently he set off a dung bomb in the kitchen's plumbing, and it busted the water mane. The Great Hall is going to be flooded for a good few weeks."
Ron jolted up from his restarted card castle, knocking the first row down. Again. "No breakfast!? No dinner!?"
"Don't be silly Ron. We're ordering food from the Three Broomsticks. They're offering to help out due to the destruction Peeves caused them a few months ago."
"Oh. Well then." Ron sat back down. "Does Harry know? He was planning on asking Lavender."
"Where is he?" Hermione hopped up from the chair.
"Dunno." Ron gave into his cards and stacked them into a neat pile. "I'll tell him if I see him though."
"Thanks. I'm going to go and have a read."
"What? No more studying?"
"I'm reading a textbook, Ronald."
Ron's ears went slightly red. "Oh."
Hermione gave a chuckle and headed up to her dorm.
Entering, she noticed the letter on her bed from the previous morning.
"How could I have not read that yet?" She mumbled to herself, and seized the parchment.
She unrolled it with caution, thinking it to be some sort of joke from Fred. He'd been mailing rattlesnake eggs that actually rattled out to everyone he knew. Mind you, it could have been George.
She glanced at one word on the page, and one word only.
"Truce."
Hermione flipped over the parchment, expecting to see more, but there was nothing.
Confused, Hermione slipped it into her side table draw and sat on the edge of her bed.
'Who could it be from?' She thought. 'I'm not fighting with anyone...Am I?'
Hermione rubbed her temple with her hand. Whoever sent it didn't sign it. Why ask for a truce if you don't know who your adversary is?
She took it back out of her draw and studied it. Whoever sent it had presumably good handwriting. She did notice one thing though. The "T" on the page was written in what looked like blood.
Of course it wasn't, Hermione said to herself. It would have to be red ink. It would have to be someone who wanted to create the appearance that they were tough, when they are using something to substitute that.
A name flashed into her head; a name that she hadn't used for a while; a name that she despised.
But it couldn't be...
I mean, why would he be calling a truce between them? They hate each other. But somewhere deep down in her heart, Hermione was glad that Draco had written her a non-threatening letter for once.
She smiled to herself as she laid the note on her pillow, and went down to the common room. There seemed to be no sign of anyone, even Fred and George had left their huddling corner.
Hermione sighed and exited the room, heading down to the entrance hall. She needed some air. She shoved open the doors and felt the cold air run through her like someone had just put ice down her shirt. She breathed deeply and set off for a long walk around the grounds.
Glancing around, she noticed that the snow was starting to melt. The roses had been stiff in early February, but now wilting with dew. It seemed fresh outside, yet cold at the same time.
Hermione pulled her robes tighter and smiled to herself. This was her favorite time of year. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood because it wasn't so humid outside.
Pulling back to reality, Hermione heard someone calling her name. It was Draco.
"Granger!" Draco yelled in the distance. "Wait up!" He jogged up to her and Hermione turned in time to see the gusts of mist coming from his mouth. Yes, it was that cold.
"...Malfoy?" Hermione folded her arms. "What do you want?"
"Erm...I was wondering...if you had a da--" Draco was cut off by Harry.
"Hermione!" He caught up to her and took a look at Draco. "...What's going on?"
"None of your business, Potter." Draco said hastily.
"What's up Harry?" Hermione asked, ignoring Draco's comment.
"Just wondering where you went. Dinner's arrived from Hogsmeade. Care to join Ron and I?" Harry held out his arm as if escorting someone to a grand ball, which Hermione accepted gratefully. 'Anything to get away from this awkward moment,' she kept thinking.
Draco suddenly lost his posture and slumped off towards the great hall, keeping a great distance between him and Hermione. Not to mention Mr. Thinks he can interrupt a conversation and walk off like it means nothing.
Hermione hesitated for a bit, and looked back a Draco with a solemn look on her face. She wanted to escape the awkward moment right? Then why was she so regretful about leaving Draco standing there? Did deep down feelings for Draco bring up the thought? 'Na...' She reassured herself. 'Feelings for Draco? Yeah right.' But the more she tried to deny it, the more inevitable it became. He seemed like a puppy that had lost it's owner, or maybe he was just changing his ways. Ha, right.
Draco shrugged as she looked back at him, and he smiled to himself.
"Maybe this won't be so bad."