"You look amazing today, Ferret."
"Glad you think so. I put ever so much work into it."
"Really? Wow, I'd love to see what you look like when you put no work into it."
With a grimace, I push Granger's head out of the way and keep walking. Looking offended, she keeps pace with me.
"Now that that's over with," she starts under her breath. Louder, she says, "I'd like to ask you something."
"What?" I ask dryly, wondering if I just nod and wave, she'll leave me be.
"Are you all right?" Her voice is quiet, softer.
I'm taken aback by her sudden switch of tones.
"What?" I ask stupidly again.
"You... don't look well, and I was just..." She sighs. "I'm not just talking about your physical health, either. Is everything okay with yo-"
"I'm fine," I snap.
She nods slowly. "I thought you'd say that." She obviously doesn't believe my claim to be fine. Granger pats my arm sympathetically before turning and leaving. Why does she have to be so damn irritating?
With a forced frown, I continue to the library, hoping Granger wasn't headed there as well. I glance behind my shoulder and see her; she's walking the same direction as me on the other side of the hall. Great.
I'm browsing the fiction shelves, needing a distraction. I grab a book randomly, and amble over to a table hidden by bookshelves. I doubt Granger would be able to find me here, so I settle down in one of the two chairs. I push the chair back and rest my feet on the table. I crack open the hardcover and begin to read. None of the words stick in my head, and by the time I finish the second page, I realise just how little I know of what's going on. With a sigh, I flip the page back and reread the first page, trying to concentrate. Focusing harder on the book than normally needed while reading, I manage to finish the first chapter and actually remember what happened. Really, I'm not interested in the story itself, just in the preoccupation it brings.
About a page and a half later, I glance up from the words and start back in surprise, feet falling off the table. She's there! She's in the other seat at the table! What the hell?!
"You," I sputter out. "Granger, why -"
"Don't you have homework to be doing?" she asks nonchalantly, flipping a page of the book in her lap.
"Why did you have to sit at my very secluded, I-thought-you-couldn't-find-me table?" I hiss.
"Oh, I'm just an hallucination," she quips, glancing up at me for a moment.
"What?" I am seriously confused.
"I'm an imaginary figure your mind has formed because you want to see me."
"No I-" I start to scoff.
"And you're sleep deprived," she interrupts, giving me a "what can you do?" look.
"That's true," I agree in a mumble. "You're not... real?"
"No. If anyone were to pass by right now, all they'd see is you jabbering nonsense to yourself."
"Oh, God," I groan, letting my head fall to the table. When I look up, Granger's gone. "I've gone bloody mad," I say to myself, sounding half-hysterical. Yep. Definitely mad.
I leave the book on the table and stand, going back through the shelves. I make my way to the main area of the room, by the librarian desk. Granger, the real one, I hope, is sitting at a table there, studying. Speaking of which, that's something I should be doing.
"What the hell," I mumble under my breath, going and plopping down at Granger's table. She doesn't look up from what she's writing as I slide a book off the top of her pile and into my hands.
"Double Advanced Ancient Runes," I say, reading the cover, "Volume 12; the History behind the History." I raise a brow.
"Yes," Granger says absently, grabbing the book back, but still not looking up. "I need that, thank you very much."
"You're... real, right?" I ask cautiously, reaching out and touching her arm to be sure.
She rolls her eyes. "Just because I find Ancient Runes positively fascinating doesn't mean I'm some unfeeling machine."
That's not what I meant. But it's her, the real Granger. Definitely.
"Right, yes, good." I bob my head once. I slouch in the chair, watching her. Her hair is back in a ponytail, some stray pieces held back with bobby pins. Her bangs fall into her eyes, and her hand keeps flicking up to brush them to the side, only to have them swish right back. Her eyes fly across the page, reading over what she has written down. Her gaze not leaving the page, she pushes the sleeves of her shirt hastily to her elbows, and I note her robe hanging over the back of the chair she's teetering on the edge of. My eyes fall lazily to her ink-splattered hands; one is anxiously tapping its fingers against the table, with the other hovering over a small ink bottle, a quill held tight in her grip.
With a sigh, I lay my head atop my arms on the table. Classes are over for the day, save the spare Astronomy class that needs to be held at night, and all I have left to look forward to is dinner, and then death. Or sleep. Whatever you want to call it.
"Malfoy?"
I lift my head. Her eyes are narrowed slightly, an annoyed frown taking over her lips.
"Tell me," she starts, leaning forward on the table, "must you sleep at my table? Don't you have a bed for that?"
"My bed is cursed with horrors of the past," I think I mumble melodramatically.
By the look on her face, I can guess what I said was pretty much incoherent. Her eyes briefly find their way to the back of her head, and she goes back to her homework. Her eyes flick to me quickly, then back down again.
"Cut the grin," she mutters, "You're creeping me out."
Grin? What grin? I'm not - Oh. I'm grinning. Huh. I didn't mean to... For some reason, this realisation makes my smile widen, growing to a full-on beam. I allow a snort of laughter to escape my mouth. I can't help but notice Granger trying to conceal a grin of her own.
I bury my head in my arms again, shaking with silent laughter, and wondering what the bloody hell is wrong with me.
I'm wearing some of the only Muggle attire I brought to Hogwarts - a pair of regular grey sweatpants and a t-shirt with a logo for some Muggle American sports team. I'm lapping the Quidditch field, trying to sweat off my delirium. As I'm turning by the bases of the goal hoops on one side of the field, I peel off my t-shirt and fling it to the ground in irritation. With a jerk of my head, I flip my sweaty hair out of my eyes.
It's not very long before I'm glistening with sweat, and thoroughly exhausted. I should have expected to be this tired, never slowing to anything lower than a run. I'm now, though, walking extremely slowly, feeling lightheaded. I reach into the deep pocket in my sweatpants and unsheathe my wand in the most dramatic way I can manage in my state of uselessness. I mutter, "Aguamenti," and point my wand at my mouth. The water's more refreshing than I'd hoped for, which makes me rinse my face with it, and just pour some over my head. I splash some across my shoulders and neck, sighing as it trickles down my chest.
This is when I stop. I sit down, cross-legged, and just let the sun soak me throughout. I know if I stay in one place too long in the sun, I'll burn. I don't really tan... Yet another Malfoy trait I detest. I throw my arms over my eyes, falling to my back. The Quidditch field seems to be my safe haven. Makes sense; here I'm actually good at something. I tell myself I'll move in a few minutes, but I'll just rest here for now.
It can't have been more than four minutes before a small voice says, "It's dinnertime."
I jolt up to see disapproving mahogany eyes staring down at me. Granger's face is red, and I'm just about to ask why she decided to stroll out to the Quidditch field for no reason, when she murmurs absently, "It's kind of warm out here, isn't it?"
I run a hand back through my hair, standing and hoping I'm not hallucinating again.
A sudden picture of the girl in front of my jumping on me, kissing me, makes its way through my mind. I blink the odd, and slightly scary, fantasy away, not letting it continue.
"What?" I ask sharply. She's just staring at me, her face twisted oddly. She jumps and looks down, cheeks reddening again.
"Sorry," she says quickly, "Lost in thought..."
I smirk. "The thought being?"
She narrows her eyes, looking up at me again.
"I advise getting dressed," she hisses slowly, looking me over, "then coming to dinner."
"Why'd you come out here to the Quidditch field?" I try asking.
"Seriously," she grumbles as if she hadn't heard me, walking away.
I roll my eyes, jogging over to get my shirt where I left it.
She walks quietly to me, a slow blush creeping across her cheeks.
"Draco," she murmurs, peeking through her eyelashes at me. She gently traces my exposed collarbone, not meeting my eyes. She gradually raises onto her toes, then glances up at me. I lean down so my lips graze hers. I hesitate, she doesn't. Her mouth is against mine, and I'm kissing her back.
"H- Hermione," I stutter, surprised at myself for using her name.
She shushes me, her lips meeting mine again.
I wake with a start, my face flushed. My heart flutters too quickly, and my stomach twists in unfamiliar ways. What in the name of all that's sane did I just dream about? I jump again when I see Blaise leaning on one of my bedposts, watching me with that Goddamn smirk on that Goddamn face.
"Thank you," I grumble sleepily to him. "Because the best way to start the day is, of course, a convulsion."
"So," Zabini starts, wigging his eyebrows suspiciously. "How's 'H-Hermione?'"
My eyes widen for the slightest fraction of a second, narrowing to slits the moment after.
"Shit," I mumble.
"I'll leave you and your fantasy girlfriend alone, Drake," Blaise says, being annoyingly snarky, and turning away.
"Don't call me that!" I shout as he walks away.
I glance blearily at the watch on my bedside table. It's a little after six in the morning, and I am not going back to sleep (safety conditions, don't want to further manipulate my ways of thinking with strangely appealing dreams of the Granger girl). Yawning wide, I slide out of bed.
It's Saturday, and I just don't feel like dressing in uniform. Instead, I break out more Muggle clothes. Pulling on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, I mutter to myself about my jackass of a "friend", and Muggles and comfort.
I walk to the Great Hall, going for an early breakfast. I eat slowly and uncaringly. My disobedient mind keeps playing that dream in my head. Groaning loudly, I push the food away and drop my head to the table, leaving myself in a compromising position I find myself in often lately.
I stand up, deciding to go to my lazy tree. It's a place I assume no one will be; I'll be alone.
But, of course, I'm wrong.
She's there.
Again.
Out of all the students in Hogwarts, she had to be the one to choose my tree as hers.
"Damn it, Granger," I mutter under my breath, making my way slowly to the tree, "Can't I escape you for one day?"
Oh my GOD, when was the last time I updated? Seriously, when? It feels like a forever ago. GOSH. (It's been a week and a day.)
Okay now, excuse time. Due to school and procrastinating tendencies, and so many distracting things on the internets (thanks so much, Tumblr, for being where I spend the majority of my time), this has not been posted til now. I'm not the fastest typer, and everything for this fanfic is written originally in my notebook, sooo... Well, I'm not terribly slow, so I don't have too much of a real excuse. Except I don't like typing. Nope. Not really. *BUHHLURRRGH*
Anyway...
I'm not making Draco too melodramatic, am I?
He just seems like he'd be like that... Melodramatic.
*SIGH* I swear I'll TRY to post sooner than I did this time, but with me you don't really know. *hint* Follows, favorites, and reviews freak me out into hyper-writing-and-typing-and-posting-mode, sooo... *innocent shrug*
SEE YOU IN DE NEXT CHAP-A-TER!
*cough*sleep-deprived*cough*delirious*cough