Evaluate This!
Chapter 10
Redecorating Lesson 101
For Draco Malfoy, phase two of the evil psychiatrist was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. Had he thought the entire process was ridiculous to begin with, he now felt it was a ridiculous and creative form of torture. He had to give it to Mr. McGale and Ms. Danna, they knew how to get under a person's skin. They knew how to make each and every student in Hogwarts pause near a particularly high window and think 'wouldn't everything be so much better if I were dead?'
They came down hard on everyone—it didn't matter your age, your status, your house. They didn't discriminate in that way. No one was let off easy. Draco mused, even if you were the son or daughter of the Minister of Magic himself, you would not feel a reprieve.
Even though he knew that they were unbiased in their cruelty, Draco couldn't help but believe they were targeting him specifically…and Hermione, if he let himself be honest. But that could possibly be the fact that their being Head Boy and Girl meant they saw the two psychiatrists more than the rest of the student populace.
During those ill fated meetings—hours of wasted time—Draco couldn't help but think that their new plan was to make either himself or Hermione or the bonus of both of them, mentally insane.
He could see the gleam in their eyes—they were rooting for his demise. Most likely with the hope that the students would follow suit once they saw the two brightest students fall.
But Draco Malfoy wasn't going to allow them that pleasure. He brushed his hair carefully, watching it fall into place. No, they were about to be very disappointed. He was going to make sure of that.
Taking a last glance to reassure himself that his reflection was indeed perfect, Draco left the bathroom.
"Your turn." He grumbled to the dosing Gryffindor. Hermione jerked awake.
"Took you long enough," she said with a scowl. "You look the same as you went in. What the hell were you doing?"
"I have you know that I do not look the same." Draco said, offended. "I went in, merely beautiful. And…" He winked. "I came out gorgeous."
Hermione grimaced and patted his shoulder as she scooted past him. "You keep telling yourself that honey." she yawned and slammed the door shut. Finally! The bathroom was hers. Through her fogged brain she imagined a thought bubble forming above her head filled with a 'muahahahaha!'. She smiled riley. Early mornings were not the best time for her.
Draco waited somewhat impatiently for Hermione. They had a dawn appointment at the gallows. He sure didn't want to miss it.
"Hurry up!" He yelled half-heartedly.
He heard distinct mumblings come from the bathroom.
"What was that? I didn't quite catch it." The door swung open and a very surly Hermione emerged.
"I said go by yourself if you're in such a hurry."
Draco yawned. "I wouldn't want to exclude you from all the fun I'd be having."
Hermione shifted her shirt, pulling it down, smoothing the wrinkles. "How considerate of you."
"I thought so." His smirk in place, "Shall we?" He held out his hand.
Hermione growled, glaring at his hand. "Let's go." she walked passed him stiffly.
"You're so pleasant at five a.m. Did anyone every tell you that before?"
Hermione didn't answer; she just waited for the almost bouncy Slytherin to catch up with her.
"Not talking are we?" Draco mused allowed as he exited the portrait. "Well, that's fine. I could talk to a wall, really I could. I can just talk and talk and talk and talk."
"Damn it Malfoy, shut up!" Hermione's hands covered her ears, trying hard to block out his not-so-unpleasant ramblings.
"Watch it Granger. If I want to ramble on and on and on and on…" He watched her grimace in satisfaction. "I'll do just that."
"Just grand." Hermione mumbled. "Conceited asshole."
"Why thank you, mudblood."
This was how their bickering went—Draco prided himself on actually holding what he considered, a conversation with her. Of course, it always ended with the customary insults to which he'd grown used to.
He didn't take offense—most of the time.
And Hermione didn't seem to take him as seriously when he called her mudblood. Of course, her reaction depended on how he said it. She seemed to be able to tell when he was joking and when…when he wasn't.
But then, Draco mused, Malfoy's don't joke. If his father could see him now…
They paused in front of the dark mahogany door.
"Ladies first." Hermione said, motioning to the knob.
"I think you've got us confused Granger."
Hermione shook her head. "I wasn't the one who spent an hour and a half in the bathroom."
"Close enough."
"How so?" Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Fifteen minutes is in no relation to an hour and a half Malfoy."
Draco reached out, his hand closed on the knob. "Fine. You win."
"Thank you."
"This time." Draco whispered as they both entered, the door closing with a click behind them—a small sound that was more a sealing of fate.
Miriam sat at her desk, her quill poised and Charlotte across from her.
"What do you think about this Malfoy?" Miriam peered at the other girl. Her hair was down for once.
Charlotte glanced up. "What do you mean?"
"That Malfoy, he's…" Miriam searched for the right word. "From the stories I've heard Ron tell. He's not exactly the guy next door, you know what I mean?"
Charlotte slid a foot beneath her, leaning forward on her elbows. "And?"
Miriam's eyes flashed annoyance. "Do you have to be so difficult?"
Charlotte shrugged, her eyes settling on the other girls.
"I think he has designs on Hermione."
"Observant aren't you."
Miriam's lips pressed together tightly. "I don't trust him."
"At least that I can agree on." Charlotte's fingers grazed the pendant.
"Your necklace." Miriam nodded to herself. "Hermione has one just like it."
Charlotte backed away, waving her hand, her eyes dark. "Family heirloom."
"Mhmm."
"Malfoy is just confused. Growing a brain hurts, you know. Disorientated is what he is. " Charlotte added as she turned away. "His breeding will catch up with him soon. I'm not worried."
Shaking her head Miriam watched the girl slip from the dark room. Her quill returned to the paper.
At the moment, all Draco could think about was how unfair they were being to him. He knew it was selfish, but he just didn't care.
First he'd been made to room with the know it all of know it alls, Granger. Second, he'd been fed like an infant by the biggest blight on humanity. Thirdly, he'd become, somehow, engaged to that blight. Fourth, he'd jumped from a window to rid himself of the afore mentioned blight.
And did it work? No!
He'd ended up in the hospital wing with that Madam Pomfrey who'd kicked him out soon enough. Being pampered was fine with him—but Hermione wasn't exactly one who pampered you—unless your name was Harry Potter.
Draco frowned. Had he been Potter he was sure he'd have been pampered like there was no tomorrow. Instead, Hermione had laughed at him, which he hated but endured in good humor. Or so he led her to believe. Draco was nobodies fool.
And he sure as hell wasn't anybody's fiancé.
And sure as hell not Pansy-pug faced-Parkinson's fiancé.
But it seemed some things were just out of poor little Drakie Poo's control.
"Mr. Malfoy." Ms. Danna greeted him with a stiff nod. "It's about time you showed up." She nodded to Hermione. "Ms. Granger and I have been waiting for over half an hour."
"Yeah, well, I was so excited to come here that I forgot where to go." Draco grumbled.
Hermione sniggered.
"Well, now that you're here. I want to start by asking you your plans for the ball this Friday. Ms. Granger?"
Hermione wasn't up for a fight. She was tired. It was early—the meetings having become earlier and earlier. She didn't understand. But she was here, or at the very least, her body was.
"As you know, I requested that we be given a trip to Hogsmead to allow the students to obtain costumes…" She stifled a yawn. "Mr. McGale denied the request and Malfoy and I looked for alternate ways to come up with a multitude of costumes."
"And," Ms. Danna prompted.
"We found a transfiguring charm that will work. All we need to do is have the students come to us. That is, I need to administer the charm, um, personally."
Ms. Danna nodded approvingly. "You overcame a very large obstacle, Ms. Granger."
Draco's eyes widened and Hermione sat very still. The psychiatrist had never so much as smiled at them. A compliment? They must be dreaming.
"Since I believe you have it under control Ms. Granger, I'll just leave the list of partners with you." she handed Hermione a list. "I'm sure you'll make sure everyone gets the information."
"Okay." Hermione clamped the sheets in her hand.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy." Ms. Danna looked up. "Since the unusual circumstances of your engagement, I found it appropriate for your fiancé to be here."
Draco's eyes widened in shock and his breath hitched. He glanced quickly over to Hermione who seemed to have paled slightly.
Near the back of the room, a door opened and Pansy was ushered into the room. Her dark hair was curled, her makeup heavy and her clothing…
Hermione looked to the floor.
Draco's eye twitched, his face contorted in terror. Jumping to his feet was a natural action—instinct.
"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy."
"Hey honey!" Pansy attached herself to the statue that was Draco.
Hermione chocked on her laughter.
Draco contemplated murder.
Hermione watched Draco's face, frozen in the expression of utmost horror. In her mind, she laughed, her sides aching with imaginary pain. You don't need divine intervention for things you can never face.
You don't need good intentions, in the end; it's all a waste. Hermione grimaced as Pansy lowered Draco back down. He'd probably do about anything at the moment. His eyes were glazed over. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the floor. Such a pretty floor.
We all need an endless vacation, from problems, from the world.
We just need reconciliation, to repair what has gone wrong in our lives.
I can't face the day. We don't want to try. I'll just waste away until I'm lost.
Save me from this chaos, save me from myself. The psychiatrist was dismissing her. Hermione stood, walking slowly to the door, when Draco looked up at her. His silver eyes pleading.
Wait, don't say those things on your tongue. Wait, so many things you'll never say.
I'll save my breath for the answers you want so much,
If only another day is wasted, another day wasted. She grimaced as she lowered her head, giving him a small smile. He looked away, his eyes closed.
Snapshots of your suffering, suffering from the little white lies.
You don't need a crude benediction.
You just need a new definition, when you're feeling alone in the night.
You can't face the day and you don't want to try. I'm lost, I'm lost and wasting away.
Save me from this chaos, save me from myself.
So many things you'll never say.
Until you break from me, break away.
I'll save my answers, until then, until the day you're gone. Gone from here.
The door closed behind Hermione and Draco was left alone with two females. He'd rather befriend Potter and Weasley…in fact, he might just run out of here, bowl past Hermione and throw himself at their feet—if only they'd protect him.
But he didn't get up. He couldn't have moved had he tried. Pansy held him tight. Draco's eyes narrowed, frustration settling into his limbs at this impossible situation—and his thoughts began to grow very dark indeed. He was going to have to stop this nonsense. He was a Malfoy—he did not beg, and he did not barter friendship with the golden trio. And that, he decided, was final.
That night, Draco wasn't only counting the ways to murder Pansy, he was now counting the ways to kill Hermione too—while hiding from the latter in a cold, dark space. Things had gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye. Draco seethed at the memories he'd never be able to get out of his brain. Maybe a concussion…a few years in a coma…blissful sedated sleep…he shook his head, his thoughts returning to murder.
The reason he was ticking off the increasingly dramatic ways to off Hermione was also the reason why he was hiding in a cold, dark space.
"Hermione?" Draco stuck his head out of his room to make sure it was her. "What are you doing?" he asked, coming out from the protective confines of his room. Assured now that the coast was clear.
Hermione fluffed the pillow she was holding and placed it strategically on the couch. Stepping back she observed, before nodding her head in approval and glancing to Malfoy.
"I'm having friends over." She stated as she walked to the fireplace and tossing into the fire scraps of parchment.
Turning around she scooped up a stack of rather disgusting magazines—obviously Draco's—and searched the room for a place to stash them.
"Those are mine." He said lazily, slumping into the couch she had plumped and fluffed to perfection. Hermione shot him an annoyed look.
"Well I sure wasn't reading them."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really? I was sure I saw you peeking through them—a"
Hermione rolled up one of the magazines and smacked him on top the head. "You are disgusting!" Letting the stack drop in his lap she sighed. "You deal with them."
Ignoring the magazines, Draco stretched his legs, leaning back and closing his eyes as he settled comfortably into the couch. "So what are you guys going to be doing?"
"None of you're business." Hermione growled throwing a bunch of his dirty socks into his bedroom. Guys were so helpless.
"Well," Draco drawled lazily. "I think it is my business. If you're going to be parading around in bras and panties I want to make sure I'm here to see it."
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious."
"I'm totally serious."
Biting her lip, Hermione thought for a second. "Well then I guess you'll just have to go." She said decidedly.
That caught Draco's attention and started the quick beat of panic through his blood. "Go! Go where?"
Hermione had shrugged, taking advantage of the shocked Draco; she pulled him up and shoved him towards the portrait, which opened obligingly as she shoved him into the hall.
"But, but what about Pansy?"
Hermione grinned at him. Evilly.
"Deal with it Drakie Poo."
Before he could retort or try to get back in, the portrait closed in his face.
And that was how Draco Herbert Malfoy had come to be hiding in a dark, dingy corner—taking up residence among many cobwebs and dead spiders, live ones as well if he'd allow himself to dwell on the fact that a particularly nasty black one was eyeing his thumb thoughtfully.
"Oh no you don't." Draco whispered, scooting his hand out of reach of those piercing fangs. He almost thought he caught a glimpse of disappointment as the spider skittered away.
This was the reason that Hermione now held an honorary position on his newly created hit list.
He had to admit that he should have created one ages ago—it was a rather useful thing, a hit list. Took up time, imagination, and…Draco's thoughts paused as he listened intently at the sound of footsteps.
Why? Why had Hermione felt it necessary to kick him all the way out. She could have just requested he stay in his room. He wouldn't have complied…and that was exactly the reason why she'd kicked him completely out of his rooms.
She knew him too damn well.
He could hang with Blaise, Draco decided. But Blaise was in the Slytherin dormitories. And the Slytherin dormitories also housed a certain 'fiancé' who he was less than eager to meet with. Of course, it would be the perfect opportunity to commit murder. Draco's eyes gleamed as his visions came freshly back. He shook his head, too public.
"This is total crap!" Draco moaned, leaning his head against the cold, stone-wall. He was a Malfoy damn it. He was a Slytherin. Why the hell was he out here? He should have kicked her out! It shouldn't be this way.
But despite all that, he was the one in a dark dingy corner. Draco closed his eyes, how had he sunk so low? "I hate you," he muttered, to the world, to Hermione.
His eyes flew open when he was answered.
"A Malfoy in a corner." Charlotte smiled ruthlessly. "How fitting."
Draco smirked. "It's the new 'in' thing. Care to join me?"
Shaking her head thoughtfully, Charlotte smirked right back. "I'd hate to intrude. You look so…comfortable and cozy. It really is a fitting place for you."
Draco's eyes darkened and she laughed. "Now, now." she scolded. "You should know by now that I'm less than afraid of you, your smirks, or your dark temperament. I have my own collection of those."
"You really are odd." Draco mused from the floor.
"That I am." Charlotte said, walking away.
Draco scrambled from the corner as Charlotte turned to leave. "Wait! Where are you going?"
Charlotte turned and eyed the less than confident blond. His clothes were dusty and wrinkled from sitting. His hair mussed and ignored, due to the absence of a mirror she was sure. He really didn't look like the cocky bastard she'd seen during the summer. But he was, she was sure, underneath that ruffled appearance, the confident git still dwelled. She fixed him was a gaze of pity and watched his features harden into a scowl. "Hermione invited me up. And from the looks of it…she kicked your conceited ass out."
"Damn right she did." Draco stamped his foot in anger—running a hand through his hair. Disappointed at the tangles his fingers encountered in his naturally smooth hair. Granger was going to pay for this, he thought as he worked out the kinks. "You'll let me back in right?"
"Ha!" Charlotte turned, walking away. "Not a chance in hell, Malfoy."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a no." Like cousin like…cousin. Draco glared at Charlotte's back. That girl was just plain—different. Different in a different way from Hermione that is. Draco shook his head, too many damn 'differents's. Charlotte had told him to fuck himself before she'd even met him. Shaking his head, Draco pondered the two girls. They were both icy when they chose to be—and it seemed Charlotte had chosen all the time, while Hermione only used it to get her point across.
But what was with the Amulets of de Morana?
Slowly, ever so slowly, Draco's eyes widened. "Hell!" He cried, running his fingers through his hair, rubbing his neck. "How the hell did I miss that?"
Had he been keen on cartoons, a light bulb would have been positioned directly above his blond head.
A very evil light bulb, that is, for as the shock wore off, his thoughts began to twine into a rather sinister plan. A very, very, sinister plan. His lips widened in a grin—had Hermione been present she'd most likely have compared it to the grin of the Grinch as he decided to destroy Christmas.
"I'm here." Charlotte entered dramatically, as she'd been taught to do. The other girls were already there. She was, as she'd meant to be, fashionably late. Slowly she took in the other girls, spotting the sister of that idiot Ron, Ginny, she believed her name to be. Miriam, of course, and that Lavender Brown who annoyed her to no end. Scanning the rest of the room she saw a few others who she'd yet to learn names for.
Hermione looked up, her eyes dancing. "Everyone, Charlotte. Charlotte, everyone."
"Cool, so what's the torture of the moment?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just sit down and wait your turn. I'm practicing."
Ginny was standing in front of a mirror. Hermione consulted Enchanting Charms once more before she read the incantation aloud; her wand pointed at Ginny whose eyes were screwed shut as she shifted nervously.
"Hurry up, Hermione, I want to see!"
Because she wasn't performing the charm on herself, the words changed to accommodate her.
By the one in front of me
I see her from rags to riches
By the one in front of me, I see her as she sees herself
Beautiful
By the power of white elm wood and unicorn
Make our eyes see
What truly,
Is inside of her
Ginny opened her eyes and shrieked. "Oh my Merlin!" She turned in a daze, eyes wide. "Oh my, Hermione, how?"
Hermione grinned, watching the various reactions of the other girls. Then suddenly, all chaos broke out.
"My turn!"
"No, me!"
"Hell no, I'm going next!"
Hermione shook her head and let them bicker. The ball was going to be interesting.
Ginny blushed as she admired herself in the mirror. "Oh Hermione…how did you find this? Think about it! We'd never have to buy dress robes again, mum could stop worrying about Ron's clothes…"
Hermione shook her head. "It's a rather complex charm. The book recommends not using it more than three times a year."
"Wow!" Ginny said, referring to the dress she was wearing. The charm not only took care of ones clothes, but ones hair and makeup—thank Merlin, Hermione was more than happy with it. Had it not done all that, she'd have had to take another long trip to the library.
Ginny raised a cautious hand to her fiery red hair. Her hair had been pulled back and secured by black clips—the banana curls bouncing slightly as she turned. At her ears were black teardrop earrings. The necklace that lay gently on her collarbone was a length of teardrop shaped stones that sparkled alluringly.
The dress itself was layers and layers of black and blond-gold lace. Ginny stuck her foot out and admired the old fashioned lace up boot.
"I love it." She whispered.
"Should we do the others before they kill each other?" Hermione asked.
Ginny grinned. "Of course."
Lavender was the first to get in front of the mirror—as she was the most ruthless. "Okay. Work your magic." She said, short of breath as she had jumped over the couch to beat the others.
Hermione laughed. "As you wish." Hermione consulted the book once more, making sure she didn't forget anything. "First off, imagine where you are beautiful."
Lavender's eyes met Hermione's through the mirror, glittering sardonically. "Oh please!" she said, tossing her hair. "I'm always beautiful."
The girls fell into a fit of giggles.
Charlotte shrugged her shoulders as she sat next to the stoic Miriam. They were certainly the most calm—not including Hermione—of everyone present.
"Hurry up and think!" screamed Ginny. "I want to see!"
When the charm was finally cast, Lavender had been transformed. Her long hair was stick straight. The gown she wore was slick and the brightest red Hermione had ever seen.
"Well." Lavender said as she assessed herself in the mirror. "There's always room for improvement."
Next up was Miriam. She eyed Hermione suspiciously. "Don't make me a hag." She warned as she stood in front of the mirror.
"I'll try." Hermione said sweetly, murmuring the incantation.
Poof!
Before them, where Miriam had stood a moment before was a hag.
"Oh my God!" Hermione almost had a heart attack. "Oh god! Miriam I am so sorry!" The girls behind her were beside themselves with laughter. Ginny was squeaking she was laughing so hard.
"It's not funny guys!" But that only made them laugh harder. "Miriam?"
Poof!
"Yeah?" Miriam grinned evilly. The girls were now bright red from laughter.
Hermione shook her head. "Don't you ever do that again."
Hermione slowly said the incantation again. This time, there was no poof.
When it was Charlotte's turn, Hermione couldn't keep the grin from her face.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you cousin?"
"More than you'll ever know." Hermione admitted truthfully. "You, in a dress. Priceless."
Charlotte dragged her close. "This doesn't leave the room."
"Oh I hope not." Miriam muttered from the sofa. Her baggy attire had become a rather renaissance-like gown. It billowed out around her making her look like a very large purple grape. Had she stood, Hermione was sure that the 'grape' effect would leave.
"Well at least I don't have to worry about being the worst looking in the room." Charlotte muttered to Hermione.
"I heard that." Miriam shouted.
When all the charms were cast, including Hermione, the girls began to get bored. Lavender and Ginny were in the midst of a 'Mine's better' face off. Hermione circled around. Miriam was busy observing her gown with interest in the mirror. And Charlotte…
Charlotte was lounging on the floor, flipping through Enchanting Charms, in her exotic silver-blue creation.
"Anything interesting?"
Charlotte nodded. "You know your red headed friend?"
"Of course."
"I'm thinking of turning him broccoli green."
"You can do that?" Hermione plopped down next to her cousin. "My Merlin. That's almost disturbing."
"You can say that again. Most of these charms are very much that. Maybe even…" She flipped the pages one by one, observing the ever increasingly strange charms. "Hmm. This is interesting. You can make any room completely pink."
Lavender's head perked up at the word pink. "What did you say?"
"You can turn any room entirely pink."
Getting hurriedly to her feet, Lavender rushed over. "Let me see!"
Charlotte obliged, handing the book over.
"Oh!" Lavender's eyes sparkled. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
The girls thought for a second, until one by one, very evil grins crossed their faces.
"Oh yeah."
"Lets."
Malfoy was cold and tired and completely sick of walking in pointless circles in deserted hallways. He pulled out his wand. "Accio broom!" he muttered. A few minutes later, his faithful broomstick wound its way over to him. He opened one of the windows, feeling the cool night air brush his face. A pale blush crossing his cheeks as the blood rushed to warm his face. He inhaled the crisp chill around him as he hopped out into the open air. Had he really been so insane as to jump from a window? He really couldn't believe he'd done such a thing.
Women drove him to extreme measures.
Any other day he would have been happy to fly for hours, but Draco was ready to go to his room and sleep.
I don't remember leaving the lights on, he thought dully as he landed on the balcony. Tiredly he stepped in.
"What the hell!" he cried, startling two very overdressed girls. "What the fuck have you done to my room?"
One of the girls took a step forward. It was Hermione, his brain registered—Hermione in a midnight blue gown. He watched as her mouth opened, as her words floated in slow motion towards him. Could it get any worse? A moment later, Draco was sure it could, as Hermione's words echoed in his mind. "Redecorating, love."
A/N: Review!
