Yep, J.K. Rowling's.
"I have no idea how I'm going to get through all this. He's so, incredibly degrading and I just can't stand being around him. He does that finger thing, like he expects me to come at his every beck and call, and it just drives me absolutely insane. And right now my writing's all rushed as I try and write all this as fast as I can with every thought I have, and I just don't know how much more I can take. We've only been assigned to work together for a bit over a day now, but it's driving me utterly mad, just the thought of trying to work with that Ferret for an entire, grueling, unbelievable--"
She snapped the journal shut, having felt someone at her shoulder. Unable to mutter the password lest he or she hear it, she just turned to the intruder. The Ferret himself. This was just unbelievable. She couldn't even get a moment's peace.
"What," she growled.
"I need to talk to you." His glare was almost as intense as hers.
"Like I said," she said through gritted teeth, "What."
"The project," he sneered.
"As I figured," she said.
The tension was almost palpable.
"How to divide it."
"Right."
He continued to glare at her. "Look, Mudblood," he sneered after a moment. "I'm about as happy to be working with you as you are working with me."
"How sweet," she retorted.
"But we have no choice," he added, clenching his teeth.
"I'm aware," she said. Then realizing he was still waiting for a response of some sort, she muttered, "Divide it how you see fit. I'll do whatever."
"And you're certain," he said, smirking slightly.
"Certain," she affirmed. "I'm used to doing all the work anyway. Why should it be any different with a Ferret Face like you?"
If looks could kill, Hermione would have died on the spot. Instead, she glared right back and stood her ground.
"Are we finished yet?" she asked, looking straight into his cold eyes.
He just nodded shortly and strode off.
Unable to continue her writing after the encounter, Hermione simply muttered the password for her journal and placed it back with her other books. After a few failed attempts to read for class, she finally surrendered. Gathering her books, she decided to take a walk.
The outside air held a light breeze, just enough to make Hermione forget all about Malfoy. She walked silently along the edge of the lake, admiring the wildflowers and breathing in their scent. She loved it there.
Finally relaxing a bit, she sat beneath a shade tree and opened her Defense Against the Dark Arts book. She engrossed herself in her studies with a smile on her face.
After a bit, she heard voices coming near her.
"Aww, come on," a male voice said, "just this once won't hurt."
"No," a female voice responded. "It very well could hurt; you don't know that."
The voices were familiar, but Hermione didn't move to greet them. They seemed to be engaged in some sort of argument.
"Come on, Pansy," the male continued in a more seductive tone. "You know you want it."
Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Blaise, Darling," Pansy responded, "You know I do as well, but it can't happen. Not now. I told you before, that was the last time."
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. She desperately wanted to leave, but the couple was just a few feet behind her tree.
"Just this once?" he pleaded, and Hermione heard Pansy bump into the tree.
"Blaise, I said no," Pansy replied firmly. "What if he finds out?"
"But you know it'll be good," he added.
It was all Hermione could do to hold her lunch.
"No, Blaise," Pansy stated. "And that's final."
"Whatever, Pansy," Blaise finally said in an annoyed tone. "It's not like I can't find some fourth year who'll give me what you won't."
Pansy sniffled in response. "But Blaise..." she whined.
"Forget it," he said coldly. "I'm out of here."
Hermione heard his quick footsteps as he walked away. Then she heard Pansy slump down in the grass behind her tree, crying whole-heartedly.
She had no clue what to do. Blaise and Pansy had been arguing about something she didn't want to know about, and here Pansy was, crying her eyes out on the other side of that very tree that had given her such peace only a moment ago. Should she console Pansy? Should she just leave without saying a word? Should she wait her out?
She finally decided on the latter, abandoning all hope of escape. She would simply wait. After all, surely a girl couldn't cry for that long over Blaise Zabini...
Twenty minutes later, Hermione gave up. She had to get to dinner soon, and Pansy was still right on the other side of that tree, crying just as much.
Hermione rose and made her way to leave. Unfortunately for her, Pansy chose that moment to do the same. The two girls bumped right into each other.
At first, Pansy's tearstained face was pure shock.
Quickly regaining her composure, her face morphed into a snarl. "What's the deal, Mudblood?" she questioned. "Your own love life so dull you'd rather listen into the affairs of others?"
Hermione just blinked at her for a moment in disbelief. Then she regained her own composure and glared at the girl. "What's the deal, Pansy?" she retorted. "Your affairs are all over school anyway, so why would I need to listen to know?"
The bigger girl's snarl suddenly became much more defined, and she looked fit to kill.
Hermione took that as her cue and sauntered off, hardly believing her own words. This project with Malfoy really had her on edge.
Maybe getting some food into her system would help. That is, assuming she could even eat after that.
She didn't say anything about their encounter to any of her friends, but she felt the cold stares as she ate. Once, without thinking about it, she glanced over to the Slytherin table. Pansy's face was a pure sneer of disgust, and Malfoy's matched it quite well.
Chills running down her back, Hermione returned to her dinner.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ginny asked, her face full of concern. Hermione's plate was still full.
"Oh, just the usual." Hermione sighed deeply, toying with her food.
"That git and his prat of a girlfriend?" Ron added helpfully.
"Of course," Hermione replied, unwilling to offer more details.
The others left it at that and continued on with their conversations.
Hermione, however, peered into her salad with such an intent glare that anyone could tell food was nowhere near her mind. In fact, nothing at that table was near her mind. Her mind was with the other table, where the disgusting duo sat, glaring at her every chance they got. But what if he knew? What if Draco knew Pansy was sleeping around with Blaise, his best friend? What would it do to him? Would he even care?
Shaking her head to clear the thoughts she didn't want, Hermione excused herself from the table. She was off to do her studies, where she knew all thoughts of her hideous partner would vanish. Or so she hoped, anyway.
A/N: Hey all, let me know what you think. Thanks!