"Good morrow, dear Granger," I say teasingly.
She looks up at me.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I just thought I'd say," I begin, leaning against the tree, "that you have, once again, found you way under my tree."
She rolls her eyes. "And I just thought I'd say that, once again, I'll sit where I bloody want to."
I merely look at her for a moment. She's donning Muggle attire, no surprise there, as well. Black jeans and a purple blouse. She's barefoot, shoes next to her, and her hair is up in a bun. It's loose, and her fringe is straightened to perfection.
With a sigh, I jump and grab onto a branch.
"What are you doing?"
To answer, I swing to catch my feet on a different branch, then finish pulling myself into the tree. I make myself as comfortable as one can be in a tree, and just stand there. The sun's coming up quickly, and soon it seems to slow down.
"Okay," Granger says below. She stands and looks at me. "That's it."
"I'm not coming down!" I shout obstinately.
"Yeah, yeah." Her eyes roll. "I want up."
I raise my eyebrows.
"Don't give me that look. I want up."
"So come up."
"Help. Me," She says slowly, as if I'm stupid.
"Alright, fine."
I move down in the tree a little.
"Jump and hold onto that branch," I say, pointing. She does so. "Okay, so, did you see what I did before?"
"I was purposely not looking," she says cheekily.
I laugh. "Just swing your legs so you can hook that branch with - yeah, like that. And then - yeah. Smart arse, you figured it out."
Grinning, she reaches one hand out so I can help her out of her last awkward position.
"Wow," she mutters, finding a branch she can comfortably stand on. "You're so cold."
"Another Malfoy thing, I guess," is my responding grumble.
We face each other in the tree, but we don't look at the other. I think we're both looking right, so we're even looking opposite directions.
Suddenly, she's chuckling softly. I look over, to see her smiling at me.
"What?"
"Your hair's insane again, today," she explains, reaching forward and starting to mess with my hair, undoubtedly to "fix" it.
"Hey," I mumble, swatting her hands away. "It's supposed to look like -"
Her skeptical eyebrow raise makes me cut short. "It almost looks like Harry's hair."
"What?! Fix it!" I shout dramatically.
She laughs. "Nah."
"Why not?" I cross my arm, and I think I pout.
"You never see a Malfoy look like he just rolled out of bed, even if he did just roll out of bed."
I snort, rolling my eyes.
"It's an interesting look, indeed, to see you wearing jeans and having your hair all messed up. You look like a normal, Muggle guy."
"God forbid," I grumble. "You're making it worse." Maybe I shouldn't have gone with the Muggle clothes...
"Yes," Granger agrees. "Because who the hell wants to look like a normal guy?"
"Not me."
"Oh, come on, it's a good look."
"For a Muggle."
"Yeah. So?"
"I'm not a Muggle, Granger."
She just shakes her head, smiling dryly.
The next moment, my brain's working in hyper-speed. Granger shifts slightly where she stands, but then she's shouting, slipping. I grab for her, getting her upper arm. It slows down the fall, but now we're both going. I try to wrap my arm around a branch, and I get it for a second, but I slip. I see her reaching for a different branch, but missing. And then we flip out of the tree, and I'm on top of her. Suddenly I can't breathe, I think she kneed me in the stomach. I cough, rolling off of her and taking a deep, ragged breath.
"Oww," I groan. "You alright?"
"Yeah," she's groaning as well. "I didn't realise trees were so dangerous."
"Yeah, well, I live on the edge." I mean to sound sardonic, but I don't think I succeed.
"What about you?" she asks quietly. "Are you okay?" She looks over at me. We're both sprawled on our backs under the tree, looking disgruntled.
"Um," I stretch, feeling nothing but sore. "Yeah, I'm good."
I stand, and another not explainable fantasy crawls its way into my mind. And, let's just say it involves Granger, no shirts, and an intense snogging session against the tree. I hit the side of my head aggravatedly, groaning audibly. I try to will the... the thing out of my head, but this one doesn't want to leave. Flashes of it still play in my mind.
"Why are you hitting yourself?" Granger asks suspiciously, frowning.
"Should it matter?"
"Um, all right, then. Look, I'm leaving."
"Whatever," I say flippantly, starting to climb back up into my tree.
Shrugging, Granger calls, "Have a nice rest-of-the-morning! And I'm never climbing a tree again!"
"Ditto," I say loudly enough so she can hear. "But not for the second part!"
With one last eye roll and snicker, she walks away.
I sigh, watching her go. She practically rips her now lopsided, falling-out-of-place bun out, then twist it back up as she walks.
"Wait, so, why did she dump you?"
"She said she was 'uncomfortable' around me."
"You're a discomfort to us all, Blaise," I mumble.
"Your teasing and general cruelty are no up to par," Blaise observes. "Your turn to talk."
"You're in the middle of a story, though," I argue, not wanting to bring up what has to do with my substandard-ness. "The new girl you're hot for?"
"Her personality matches her hair, and she's a terrific kisser," he says quickly. "Now you."
"I don't know what you think is up," I lie.
He shrugs, pushing open the door to the Great Hall. "Nevermind, then. Just tell me about H-Hermione."
"You'll stop doing that, now. I can't -"
"Control your dreams, I know."
"No, I was going to say, I can't control wandering bastards who watch people in their sleep like a crazy, obsessed stalker."
Laughing, Blaise pulls a seat out and sits down. I lean against the back of the seat next to him, then decide I will sit next to my arse of a friend.
"Seriously, though, what was that dream?"
I give him a "you're not really thinking I'll tell you, right?" glare.
For the entire next month, I try my hardest to avoid the bush-headed girl that keeps invading my dreams. I manage, somewhat. I, of course, see her in classes (and in the Great Hall, and in the corridors, and other random places), bot other than that, I succeed. Well, only sort of. Really, I just didn't talk to her or get within ten feet of her.
But now I'm sitting behind her. It's not my fault, really. I already was sitting where I am when she came rushing in right before class started. I'm stuck. Had no time to move.
McGonagal is in the front of the classroom, droning on about something of probably importance that I have no interest in. All I can focus on is the girl in front of me. Her hair is frizzy as ever, but the curls seem somehow neater than before. She leaning back in her chair, close enough to touch. Idly, I rest my chin on my hand, elbow on the desk. Leaning forward, I tug lightly on one of these curls without thinking. I'm just beginning to twirl the lock around my finger, when Granger's head whips around.
"Malfoy!" she hisses, obviously trying to keep her voice down. I slowly sit up, under my breath when I feel myself blush. Blush.
"What?" I whisper.
"Don't touch my hair."
"I wasn't."
"Liar."
"So what if I did?"
"Why did you, anyway?"
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because it's my hair!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it had truly been transfigured into a bush and I was curious."
"And I'm curious about doing many things to you, Malfoy, but I have restraint."
"What kind of things, Granger?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"No, I just asked for no reason."
"What if I don't want to tell you so I can surprise you in the middle of the night?"
"You don't know the kind of things I could do to you." I have a feeling that what I'm talking about now is entirely different than what she's talking about. As soon as she mentioned doing something to me, my mind twisted it around to mean something... different.
"I bet I could do it to you better," she says, still hushed. Oh, Lord, kill me now.
"I'd sure like to see you do that." No lie.
"And I'd be willing to try." If only.
"I bet I could do things you've never even heard of."
She scoffs. "As if, Malfoy, I believe I'm more knowledgeable than you in this instance." Wouldn't that be something?
"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger."
Face flushing, Granger flinches to face the front.
"Yes, Professor?" she asks timidly.
"I'm sorry, is my class interrupting your and Mr. Malfoy's conversation?"
"N-no, Professor. It wasn't important, anyway. Sorry."
"I thought it was important enough," I murmur in a low voice for only Granger to hear.
"Mr. Malfoy." McGonagal shoots me her classic stern look. "I advise you to stop saying whatever it is you're saying to make Granger blush -" I can imagine Granger's cheek getting even redder. "- before I am forced to take points."
I nod, containing a sigh.
As before, I'm not paying any attention to McGonagal. That conversation. I'm thinking about things I shouldn't. About doing things I shouldn't. I bet if you took away all the baggy cloths and bulky robes, Granger's figure wouldn't be all that bad...
Wait, what?
Shut up, Draco, I tell myself. You are being so frigging stupid. She's not that great looking. And there's that tall barrier you built of her blood status being extremely lower than yours blocking you way. Way to what? Her? I will myself to shudder. She actually wouldn't be that bad, I guess. With as much as she talks, I bet she'd be a great kisser (Her lips get so much "exercise").
"Draco." The whisper beside me.
I look to my left and see Granger. Then I look forward. She's still in her seat.
Oh, God.
Not again.
I need some sleep really badly.
I glance back at my hallucination. I feel something on my right nudge me, probably Blaise. I don't care.
Hallucination Granger is wearing a simple tank top and dark wash jean shorts. Very short jean shorts...
I blink.
Go away.
Go away.
Go away.
It does.
But now the image is in my head, wearing me down. Suddenly, her outfit changes to something the real Granger would wear - a short sleeved button down shirt, and a grey uniform skirt. She walks toward me, giving an unspoken message that I interpret as, "I want you, now." I hope. Wish. Hell, it's what I'm thinking right now.
I want her.
I want Granger as mine.
Only mine.
...
What?
Sigh.
What's up, peoples?
I'm tired...
I'm pretty sleep deprived myself...
No hallucinations, yet, though...
I suppose I should add a disclaimer somewhere in here... So... DISCLAIMER: If I owned Harry Potter, Dramione would be cannon. Dramione would be more than cannon; they would be SUPER cannon.
And that is all...