Chapter 26:

Partners from Hell and Chairs that Scoot

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Hermione licked her lips nervously and felt a bead of sweat steadily make its way down her neck. It was that time of year again- it was the day Professor Binns assigned partner projects. Insert dramatic music here…

And of course she just had to have History of Magic with the Slytherins- the entire House of which it seemed had begun to stalk her recently. Between classes, at mealtimes, free afternoons, Hogsmeade visits…They were always there. Watching. Whispering. And overall being bloody annoying.

But that was beside the point, the point being that Binns was bloody insane and there were Slytherins in the room! She huffed and collapsed onto her desk, this situation certainly merited a good long moping session.

"As you all know, it is time to choose your partners for the –"Moping session officially interrupted.

"However because your judgment can not be trusted," Binns threw a withering look at Malfoy, who was edging his seat closer and closer to a fidgeting Ron, "I will be choosing your partners in your stead." Malfoy's cross-room journey ceased and began again in reverse.

Hermione groaned and considered the consequences of murdering the Professor…again. Harry shot her a sympathetic glance from the seat next to her, "This thing doesn't sound that bad, 'Mione."

Glaring at her quill, she bit her lip. As amusing as Malfoy scooting across the room quasi-casually was, the whole not getting to pick their own partners thing was a bit of a damper on the occasion.

"Crabbe and Finnegan." The small Irishman moaned as if shot and slumped onto his desk.

"Malfoy and Weasley." Ron's eyes looked heavenward and he could be heard pleading with God for another chance at life.

"Parkinson and Patil." The two girls exchanged heated looks, the confrontation ending in Parvarti grudgingly offering Pansy a shoe-related compliment.

Hermione sighed and sat upright, this really was taking far too long. Soon the names began to blend together, and she stared blankly at the wall through Binns barely listening to what seemed like "Goy-bottom." and "Hig-otter."

"Zabini and Granger."

Exchanging a pleased smirk and an apprehensive smile respectively, the two then hurriedly looked away not noticing the snarling from the Malfoy-Potter-Weasley team or the girlish giggling of the Parvarti-Ernie-Lavender group-despite one member being missing (Lavender giggled a bit louder to make up for the absence).

Ron gulped nervously and scooted his chair a bit farther from Malfoy. The git couldn't be trusted…

With a skittish mumble he pulled a stray thread from his shirt, "So, what're we gonna do?"

Draco looked up from his quill and licked his lips in anticipation, "What indeed?"

Eyes widening, Ron busied himself with scooting his chair even further from the Slytherin.

"I was thinking something along the lines of-"

"Oi. Is this it?" Ron frowned and leaned across Malfoy, clumsily snatching the parchment Draco had been writing on and giving it a good look.

"History of Magic Project Ideas," he read without even pretending interest, "Odwidge the Ominous-Battle of- Mr. Draco Weasley." Ron blanched and shot Malfoy an incredulous look.

Scoot. Scoot. Scoot.

"Misters Draco and Ronald Weasley," he continued with a wince at his given name.

Draco frowned and snatched the paper back from Ron, "Want to know my personal favorite, Weasel?"

Scoot. Scoot. Scoot.

He cleared his throat, "Dr. and Mr. Ron Weasley." At Ron's blank stare he elaborated, "You're a Healer; I stay at home with the kids. Three of them, you know. Two boys and a girl. David, Michael, and Fra-"

"K-kids?" Ron managed to croak out, "H-how? Wait!" he shut his eyes and plugged his ears, "I don't want to know!"

Draco smirked and leaned forward to whisper in Ron's ear, "Sure? Well you see, there's this certain spell…very dark magic-"

Ron paled, "Sorry, can't hear you! La, la, la…"

Draco sighed in exasperation- it was endearing at first, but now it was bordering on bothersome. Yanking Ron's chair back to its original position in front of the table, he didn't miss a beat. Shoving 1601 Reasons Goblins Never Quite Stop Fighting in front of the red-head he grabbed another tome and began to read, jotting down notes just under "DM+RW". Still seeing no response from the taller boy, he poked him quite rudely.

"Oi. You there, Weasel? Pull your own weight will you? I'm dainty, and I can't very well lug your sorry arse around by myself."

Ron blinked at the blonde as a quill was thrust into his hand along with a piece of parchment.

"Eh?"

Draco's brow furrowed- how to get through to the bloke? Ah yes, that would work.

"Ahem, Weasel." Catching Ron's attention, he leaned in close to the other boy's face, "Weasel," he cooed, feeling Ron's breath quicken, "Read and take notes…good notes. Or else I'll-"he paused and licked his lips, "Well, you don't want to find out, now do you?"

Ron shook his head and burrowed his nose into the book, writing down every other sentence that started with a 'Q'. It wasn't all that effective, but at least it was something, Draco reasoned with a sigh.

Hermione grumbled and stabbed the table with her quill- bloody Binns for sticking her with Bl-Zabini. The daft old codger must have been out of his mind… And Zabini! Did he fall on his knees and thank Merlin that he was paired with her? Well, no actually. He didn't- the ungrateful bastard…

She huffed and stole a glance at the dozing boy beside her- that certainly could not be construed as productive… With an irritated sigh, the brunette attempted to poke Blaise awake; dammit they had a project to work on!

Blue eyes squinting open, Blaise blinked blankly at her.

"Can I help you?"

Hermione's rage had now reached an unprecedented high. Across the room, Harry and Ron exchanged harried looks and attempted to hide behind their respective partners. Draco basked in the attention and Terrence looked relatively disturbed- until she exploded.

"Yes, you bloody well can help me Zabini," she hissed out in disgust. Slamming a text in front of him, she narrowed her eyes menacingly.

"If you make me fail this project, you self-absorbed, chauvinistic prick, so help me I'll-"

Attempting to focus on the waggling finger in front of his nose, Blaise went cross eyed and smiled. Damn, did she have to be so bloody adorable?

"Granger," he cooed placating and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You've forgotten 'Dashing, charming, chivalrous, intelligent and talented'."

Hermione seethed and clenched her fists imagining it was his perfect neck she was wringing, "Do your work- now."

"Pushy, aren't we?" He snickered at her expression and pinched her cheeks ("Wittle Hermione is so sweet! Yes, she is! Yes, she is!") before turning to the text in front of him.

After jotting down some nonsense on Irvine the Irritable, he frowned at her silence and turned to see her staring blankly at him.

Barely holding back a smirk, he tapped her research papers, "Get to work, lazy bum- I can't do it all myself."

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