"Zabini?"
I lifted the book away from my face and sat up. For the past fifteen minutes, I had been reclining on the couch, wondering about Malfoy's wit and my rather nonexistent plans for it.
Granger glanced at me strangely and sat on the opposite couch. Her cheeks were flushed and a light layer of snowflakes rested on her rather sensible-looking hat (By sensible, I mean it was OUTRAGEOUSLY unattractive). Clearly, she had just come back from outside.
"Hello, Granger. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"
She removed her scarf then, the watery particles falling to the ground, and placed them carefully on the table between us.
"First of all, Zabini, this is the common room, not your personal lair. Second of all, I wanted to know if you could tell me about yesterday's supper? The orb?"
I sighed, not really wanting to get into the dark and dirty details.
"It's a bit complicated", I answered vaguely.
She stared at me then with one of her 'I know what you're trying to do and don't think for a second that I'll fall for it' looks.
She answered, also tactfully, "I've got time."
Clearly, I had no choice but to divulge everything.
"Alright… Well, do you remember the row I had with Malfoy last Christmas? During the last supper?"
Her eyes widened with recognition. "Yes, of course...You two weren't being all that …discreet…"
In other words, Malfoy and I had partaken in quite the shouting match.
"Yes, well. If you listened, well, even if you tried NOT to listen, you must have heard what he said about my mum right?"
Her cheeks coloured with acknowledgement and so I continued.
"Well, what he said was rather uncalled for-"
"Uncalled for, Zabini? If I remember correctly, you did call his father a "worthless piece of pompous shit who couldn't even properly duel a group of children with the total intelligence and magical ability of a…. of a…." She looked at me, questioningly.
"Of a blind, deaf, and dumb warthog during mating season…" I finished in a droll voice.
"Yes! So when he retaliated by calling your mother a-"
"Let's not go there, shall we Granger?" I said, not wanting to bring up a series of rather uncomfortable and entirely inappropriate phrases.
"All right, but you cannot say that his retaliation was uncalled for… You did provoke him, Zabini."
"I know! I know! But still. One cannot talk about mothers in such a way. I mean, has society degraded itself that far? Will there no longer be a day when the word "mum" evokes a sense of love and respect? Will humanity allow such a lovely term to be so tarnished? So disgraced? So utterly, irrevocably polluted? So inconceivably, catastrophically-"
"ZABINI!"
"Oh, sorry. Just got so wrapped up in the whole 'mum' situation. Anyhow, I was rather angry with him for saying such things…So angry, that I've been, well, planning…Planning a way to get revenge."
I looked up at her then, but she seemed rather unphased by where I was going.
"So, I went to the library to seek out some advice and I did come across this lovely book entitled-"
"Revenge & Retribution for the Righteously Enraged?", she asked in a knowing voice.
"Yes, that's the one. And so- Wait a moment…How did you know that?"
She sighed then, crossing her arms. "Zabini, I've practically read every book in the library. I ran across that rather questionable piece of 'literature' in third year."
"Oh. Alright, then. So, after reading it, I decided to use an-"
"Let me guess, an attribute-removal spell?", she asked, sounding rather bored.
"Well, yes. Wait, HOW did you know that?" I asked, unable to keep the amazement out of my voice.
She shrugged sheepishly, "I just figured that's what you would go for… It's very Slytherin, hence, very you."
"Oh." I answered glumly, rather disappointed that my tale wasn't as shocking as I thought it was.
"Well…shall I continue then?"
"Yes, yes of course." Granger can be SO bloody aggravating.
"Are you sure? Don't you want to tell me which attribute I stole and what I intend to do with it?" I asked, a bit peeved by her nonchalance. To be quite honest, I was expecting some screams, shrieks, and a whole lot of "You conniving, little BASTARD!" Instead, I got this.
She huffed a bit then and responded, "Pardon me, Zabini, but it isn't MY fault that YOU are thoroughly PREDICTABLE!"
I was enraged. "Predictable? PREDICTABLE? HOW AM I BLEEDING PREDICTABLE? I'VE WAITED A WHOLE BLOODY YEAR FOR THIS! I HAVEN'T RUSHED IT! I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING YOU RASH AND BOORISH GRYFFINDORS WOULD HAVE DONE!"
She smiled then, her eyes glinting with a victory I didn't even know was at stake.
"MY POINT PRECISELY, ZABINI! Every move you've made is Slytherin. Waiting a whole year. Slytherin. Consulting a bloody book about revenge. Slytherin. Using a rather slick attribute-removal spell. Slytherin."
I stared at her. Stunned. Completely flabbergasted by the truth to her words.
She continued on. "If you truly wanted to get your revenge, you should have done it the Gryffindor way. You should have lashed out right then! You should have been 'rash'! You should NOT have waited a bloody millennium to enact it! You should-"
I woke up from my catharsis. "I get it, Granger. I should have had the balls."
She smirked at me and softly responded, "Yes. You should have."
I sighed, unhappy with my current state-of-affairs. I did not endure Malfoy's punch to the jaw for NOTHING.
"If you don't mind me asking, what did you steal? Which trait?" She asked, the curiosity ringing clearly in her voice.
"His bloody wit."
Silence ensued.
I opened my eyes then, wondering where the ever-chatty Granger had got to. But she was still there and I swear I could see her abnormally large brain processing the piece of information I had just given her.
"His wit?"
"The one and only", I replied drily.
She shifted in her seat then, curling her legs beneath her. "And what do you plan to do with it?"
I leaned back into the couch, getting ready to throw myself a pity party- No. A pity EXTRAVAGANZA!
"I don't know… That was sort of my dilemma…. I have his wit and all, but I have no idea what to do with the blazing thing."
She leaned back in her couch as well and I wondered what the 'brains' of Harry Potter & Co. was thinking about. Don't think that I don't know she's smart. She's brilliant, really…After all, she's the only member of that godforsaken trio that actually an ounce of intelligence…It's just… well, it's Granger… And since when do Granger and I collaborate over plans for retribution? Since when are we even civil to each other? Since when did we actually acknowledge each others' presence?
Before I could continue my thought-provoking line of questioning, Granger shot out of her leisurely position, her knees almost banging into the small table between us.
"Are you quite all right, Granger? You look rather…psychotic…"
She ignored my less-than-cordial comment and practically shrieked, "Zabini! Give it to me! Your revenge will be earned triple-fold!"
I backed up then, wondering if the years of poring over and sniffing ancient volumes of magical literature had finally affected Granger's sanity.
"Uh, Granger? What are you talking about?" I asked hesitantly.
She was fairly hopping up and down with excitement. "His wit! Malfoy's sodding wit! If you give it to me, I too can have my revenge on him! He won't know what hit him, Zabini… He's probably expecting something from your end right about now… But if I have his wit, and if I attack him using his own bloody weapon, well then-"
"Genius", I whispered. Her plan was absolute GENIUS. It was perfect for me… Virtually untraceable… He would have no bloody idea… And Granger… Lord, she probably wants him dead…I know she'd play her part well…
"Granger, you do know you are the most Slytherin non-Slytherin I have ever had the pleasure of conniving with?" I stated, my words dripping with flattery.
"Oh, shut it, Zabini…" was her polite response, but she looked rather mollified all the same.
"So, I give you his wit. You use it against him. He has no clue that I'm the perpetrator. And voila! Revenge accomplished."
She smiled at me then and held out her hand. "Do we have an accord then, Zabini?"
I stared at her hand, wondering what the hell she wanted me to do with it.
She sighed, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "It's Muggle custom, Zabini. Just shake it."
I timidly took her hand and well, shook it.
She laughed and said, "All right, this is getting way to weird. I'll see you later, Zabini."
"Later, Granger."
Who knew that I, Blaise Zabini, would find the perfect accomplice, the perfect partner-in-crime, in the overly righteous, Golden Girl of Gryffindor, Hermione Granger?
Taptaptap.
Taptaptap.
TAPTAPTAP!
"ARGH!"
I fell right out of bed and onto my arse. What is that bloody interminable RACKET?
TAPTAPTAP!
There it was again. I unraveled myself from my blankets and stumbled towards the window.
It was an owl. A rather…unattractive owl. Its feathers were all ruffled about and it clearly had seen better days. I opened the latch and let it in. It flew in, dropped a package on my bed, and promptly flew into my bookshelf.
The poor bird was really so pathetic. I turned back to the package and looked at the return address.
Jannigan & Jockibell's Jewlery
14 Supton Lane
Hogsmeade
Ah… Pansy's gift. I placed it on my armoire, a tortuous knot developing in my stomach. I walked toward the bird, which still seemed to be in a comatose state. I gently picked it up and it turned its head, indicating that despite appearances, it was well enough alive.
I stroked through its grey and charcoal feathers, contemplating the whole Pansy ordeal. Contrary to some individuals' beliefs, I am not a blithering idiot. And I am quite aware that what I feel for Pansy is more than friendship…But, the fact that she's been with so many people really, really hurts. I just can't be with someone who makes herself so…dispensible… All right, that was rather cruel for me to say, but it had to be said.
I walked over to the window and released the owl, watching it flap its wings tiredly.
I know exactly how you feel mate, I know exactly how you feel.
Fucking idiot! Fucking Zabini! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Contrary to what he had expected, a full night's rest had not lessened the 'intensity' of the shiner Zabini had given him. His normally clear, pallid cheeks now sported a patch of purple, blue, and green bruising. Perfect. Just perfect. And to make matters worse, he had a pounding headache, as though someone was sporadically drilling holes throughout his skull. And thinking of that image made Draco grimace. He had once seen such an atrocity at a Death Eater gathering. They had used the Imperius curse on a former Ministry member… The poor man never stood a chance. Draco shook his head and splashed cold water onto his face. I can't deal with this. I need this fixed. NOW.
"Oi! PANS! Get your arse here right NOW!"
And like the trained puppy that she was, Pansy came running in, her cheeks flushed.
"What's wrong Draco-"
He swiveled around so she could see what was so obviously wrong with him at that moment.
"Oh... my… I-I see the swelling hasn't gone down yet…"
He shook his head. "CLEARLY. Now, could you do something about it?"
She looked hesitant, but answered, "I suppose so."
She walked over to him and raised her hand to his jaw. He flinched away, and held her wrist captive.
"You better not hurt me, Pans." His stormy eyes focused on her violet ones. And then his voice became lower, hoarser. "You won't hurt me, will you?"
She smiled up at him, her heart pounding in all the good ways when he had grasped her wrist. "Don't be silly… You know I could never hurt you."
He released her wrist then and watched as she reached up again, softly prodding the bruised area. "It doesn't seem too bad. A simple healing spell with a really minor glamour charm should do the trick."
She raised her wand then and whispered the words. He watched her mouth the words, her pouty lips glistening slightly. Draco felt a wave of mild heat pass over his cheek, followed by a tinge of coldness. He turned to the mirror and was incredibly relieved to see his cheek looking quite normal again.
He turned to Pansy and pulled her in an embrace. "Thanks, Pans. I knew I could count on you."
She beamed up at him and he leant down, placing his lips over her moist ones. God she feels so good. He sucked on her lower lip a bit, pulling it out a bit. And like every other time, Pansy fully responded. She slid her palms up his arms and let them knot together at the back of his neck. She felt his hand move across the expanse of her blouse, from her curve of her hips to right under her breast. And his hand fanned out then, his thumb caressing the soft curve of her breast. He pulled her closer then, flush against him, and dominated the kiss, nipping and sucking at her lips. He ended the exchange with a soft kiss on her mouth. He released her reluctantly, craving her softness. God… I really needed that…
He turned back to face the mirror, watching her blush prettily, her violet eyes still darkened.
"Hey, Pans, are you going with anyone to the dance? I was planning on going stag, but if you're free, we should go together." He looked up at her in the mirror, knowing full well that she had planned to go with Zabini.
She wrung her hands a bit, but was all smiles a moment later. "No, I'm free. So we're going together?", her voice rose with excitement.
"Looks like it. I'll pick you up, say seven?"
"Sounds perfect, see you then Draco." And she practically skipped out of his room.
That'll show Zabini.
I had just gotten out of the shower, the towel wrapped cozily around my hips, when she ran in.
"Blaise! Blaise!"
"Jesus, Pansy! What happened?!"
"You'll never believe what happened today." Oh, botheration! What now? What could possibly go wrong NOW?
"Just tell me, Parkinson…"
She crossed her arms and pouted. "Fine! Draco asked me out!! He asked me if I wanted to go to the dance with him!!"
And something inside of me sunk to the floor, a dull thud reverberating in my ears.
"And what did you say?" I whispered, my voice strained.
"What do you THINK I said?! This is what we've been waiting for! All of our plans finally worked out! He wants me, Blaise! He wants me!"
And she pulled me into an embrace that was so pathetically disheartening, I could barely stand it.
"Wow, Pans. Congrats! You deserve it, definitely." Don't ask me how I could have said that. I can't even understand it myself.
"Oh, thanks Blaise! I feel terrible though, about leaving you alone tonight."
"No, no. It's fine… It's a good thing this happened, actually. I've been feeling rather off all morning, so this is good, trust me."
Her forehead wrinkled up a bit then. "So you're not coming?"
"Ah, I don't know, Pans… No… I don't think I will… My stomach's been killing me, you know?"
She bit her lower lip. I love it when she does that…"I suppose... I'll bring you something before I leave though. Some soup, maybe?"
I could barely keep up the charade. "Yeah, sounds great. See you later, Pans."
"Bye, Blaise." And she walked out of the room, humming that lullaby my mum used to sing to me.
I looked over at the package on top of my armoire.
"Accio package!" Her gift zoomed into my hands and I began ripping off the wrappings, feeling all sorts of things. Betrayal? Anger? Loathing? Crushed?
I held the midnight blue case in my hands, my fingers spread across its soft, velvety exterior. And then I opened the latch.
The Saethera pendant. It was beautiful. And it was Pansy.
And without thinking about anything, I hurled the thin box at the wall. The necklace sprung out from the case and smashed against the stone surface, the splintered shards quivering on the floor.
I have to admire Draco Malfoy. Not for his money, his connections, or even his wit.
But for his ability to hurt, to damage, to utterly destroy.
He must have known what I felt for Pansy before I had even realized it. And he had taken that information and had twisted it against me.
I slumped back onto my bed, praying that Granger would make him burn tonight.
…seven hours later…
Hermione frowned as she read the letter. So Zabini isn't showing up tonight…That's fine. I can handle this on my own.
She opened the pouch that had accompanied his note and removed the bottle. She could see the orb bouncing against the glass walls. Just like a snitch. She carefully removed the cork stopper and pointed her wand inside the tube. The orb automatically siphoned into her wand. Hermione then pointed her wand at herself and whispered, "Ex corporum!" And the orb shot out of the tip of her wand and into her gut. She felt the power rush through her body in tiny waves. After a few minutes, her body returned to its normal patterns and Hermione sat loosely on her bed, just breathing. That wasn't too horrible…Really thought the whole experience would have been… well… more slimy…
She stood up then and walked over to the mirror. I don't look any different, or feel- And that's when she felt it. A surge of heat running through her tongue. Powerful… I feel powerful… She laughed then, wondering if she had imagined the whole thing.
"Really, Hermione. Get a grip on yourself", she muttered. She picked up her dress which was lying limply on top of her bed. She slipped off her worn bathrobe and let the silky, red fabric glide over her body. Ginny hadn't lied. The dress was definitely worth the galleons. She glanced at her hair then and grimaced. Though the frizziness had been somewhat tamed over the years, her curls were more riotous than ever. She used Sleekeazy's Smoothing crème to give her curls some shape and shine. Her ringlets framed her face beautifully, but it still seemed so…plain…She bit her lip pensively, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Something's missing… I need something more…And like the other day, Hermione Granger had a moment of genius. A barette. She shoved her discarded robes off of her armchair and transfigured it into a chrysanthemum-shaped barette. The petals of the bloom were made out of interlacing vibrant rubies and deep pink crystals. It's beautiful…Don't know how I managed to transfigure that out of a bloody armchair… And she grinned. She placed the bejewled accessory in her hair, allowing it to pull back some of her curls. It was perfect.
Now, normally, Hermione would have foregone make-up. But tonight was going to be different. Tonight she was going to make Draco Malfoy pay. And she wanted to look flawless as she did so. Using her observations of Ginny and Lavender as tutorials, she began applying the dreaded stuff. She used her pinky to dust gold shimmer across her eyelids, placing more at the indent of her eye. She used Muggle eye-liner to outline the shape of her olive-shaped eyes, the black penciling enhancing her caramel irises. And lastly, she used a glamour charm to rouge her lips lightly. And the effect was… satisfying to say the least. I look… quite nice actually…Not bad at all…And she laughed again, wondering when she had become as vain as to have mental conversations about her looks. She walked out of her quarters then and paused outside of Zabini's door.
She knocked on the door softly.
"Zabini? Are you there?"
But all she heard was silence.
She shrugged and moved on, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she walked towards the Gryffindor Tower.
Draco Malfoy was quietly seething. I TOLD her that I would pick her up at SEVEN. It's a bloody QUARTER to EIGHT and Parkinson has YET to show herself! Ugh! Malfoy, you idiot! You should have just let her go with that stupid ponce!
He released a strangled sigh then and bellowed, "PANSY PARKINSON, GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE, RIGHT BLOODY NOW!"
He turned to the fireplace, hoping the regular patterns of the flames could calm him down. He heard the "click" of her heels and he whirled around, ready to spout some very, very, angry words. But the words never left his mouth. His icy, grey eyes widened. God… she looks so beautiful…God…Pansy's going to break hearts tonight…
He smirked at her. "Glad you finally decided to stop primping yourself."
She smiled shyly and gave him her hand. "I'm glad you finally decided to ask me out again."
He stiffened involuntarily, wishing she had not let those words escape.
He turned to her then and grasped her shoulders softly. "Look Pans, we're going together just as friends right?"
Her face fell but she quickly smacked on a pathetic smile. "Of course! I know that. Let's go then, shall we?"
I don't believe her for a second… Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! You should never have kissed her… You should have just let her go with that moron… Shit. SHIT!
He looked down at her then, saw her looking up at him expectantly, and he finally answered her. "Yeah, let's go."
And the two walked out of the Slytherin portrait hole and towards the Great Hall.
What? Have you forgotten about me? ME! Blaise Zabini! WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WHO'S THAT'? I'm the BLEEDING STORY-TELLER! Without ME, this bloody story wouldn't bloody EXIST.
Anyhow (I've decided to be mature about this and IGNORE the fact that you all have IMPERTINENTLY forgotten about me!), whilst all of that was going on, I was going through quite a terrible time. Pansy had left me feeling quite ill… I needed to tell her how I felt…. I don't think I could tell her face-to face… I'm not that brave… I walked over to my desk and sat on the chair. Time to write a love letter, Blaise. And I immediately winced. Me? Writing a bloody love letter? No bloody way. And so, I did something very childish, but still rather…helpful. I vented. On paper.
"Dear Pansy,
I hate you. I hate you SO much right now. How can you keep on taking Malfoy's shit? You know he's just using you. The only thing ANYONE ever does to you is use you. Why won't you stop them? Why won't you listen to me? Why don't you fucking stand up for yourself? You're their bleeding DOORMAT, Pansy. That's what they all do. They just rub their shit on you and you accept it. No protests. Why?
And me? God, I'm so fucked up right now Pansy. I thought we were just friends. Best friends. But I want more. Despite everything. Despite everyone who's fucked you, I still want you. Despite the fact you're letting fucking MALFOY use your body. Despite the fact I know that you'll never give up on him. Despite the fact I will always be just a friend to you. Despite the fact I'm the one who has to put you back together when Malfoy breaks you again tonight.
Despite it all, I think I love you. And right now, it's killing me. You're killing me. And there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing."
I dropped the quill than, my hand shaking from the force I had used to write that letter. It was messy, ink-splattered, and uncharacteristically honest. This is how I feel. This is what she makes me feel….
God… I'm so fucking STUPID! How could I fall in love with her? How could I let that happen?
I crumpled up the letter then and threw it against the wall. It ricocheted lightly and fell amongst the pieces of broken crystal.
I stumbled towards the bed, just worn out by the whole day. I barely got the blankets over me when my eyes fell closed, completely spent.
Who the fuck is that? God, I want her. Malfoy gazed longingly at her back, wondering how the dress stayed up. It was completely backless, the fabric resting snugly across her hips and down her legs. Her skin looked so smooth. It was milky white, a single beauty mark marring the plain of flawless porcelain. Who is that? He heard her laugh then, a rich laugh that left his fingers tingling. He wanted to feel her throat as she laughed. She turned her head slightly then, but he still couldn't make out her profile. Her glorious, chocolate curls shielded her face from his view.
"Draco!"
"Hmm?", he asked, his attention focused elsewhere.
"Could you get me something to drink? I'll be back in a few moments, just need to tell Milly something."
"Yeah, sure."
Draco vaguely heard Pansy's heels click away from him, but he stood in place.
The girl must have said something funny to her circle of friends because the entire group broke out in loud laughter.
Curiosity rooted itself deep within Draco's mind and he would give Galleons to learn who she was and what she had just said.
He walked closer to her circle, skirting along the walls. He analyzed her friends then, hoping that would give a clue to her identification. Some Ravenclaws, a few Hufflepuffs…mostly Gryffindors…That's intriguing…A Gryffindor beauty? Now, that's something I haven't seen before…Probably a 6th-year…
He made out some of her words: "hippogriff", "hot peppers", "lemon tart"…He strained to hear more, but the group broke out in raucous laughs again.
What the fuck is going on?…He grabbed a flute of sparkling cider and positioned himself, directly behind the girl. The 7th year Slytherins quickly formed a circle around him, and Malfoy relaxed. His back was inches from her bare skin, but no one could accuse him of eavesdropping. After all, it looked like he was talking amongst his own circle, not intently listening to the chatter happening directly behind him.
After saying a couple of things to his crowd, he tuned out, his ears perking up at her voice.
"…So, when Snape asked if me if I knew how dangerous it was to place the vial of dragon's blood so near the flask of phoenix ash, I could barely stop myself from asking if he knew just how harmful it was to place his ridiculously slimy, permanently greasy, INTERMINABLY oily hair so near my lit cauldron!" And the group broke out in laughter once more.
Draco choked on his cider, his eyes watering a little. Crabbe gave him a weird look, but then continued gobbling up his chocolate éclair. She's rather…witty… And he unconsciously leant back, trying to hear more of what she said.
"…Remember when I got into that strop with Trelawney? Well, I ran into her a few minutes ago and she told me to beware of a vast darkness approaching me. And so I asked her, 'What? Is Goyle around the corner?'"
Malfoy tilted his head back, unable to contain his laughter. Unknowingly, his shoulder connected with her head. Shit, she's funny…Who the hell is sh-
But his thoughts were interrupted by two hard pokes to his shoulder blades. He whirled around only to see her smirking at him. He took in her shiny curls, her iridescent caramel eyes, her red mouth, and her clingy dress.
"Granger?", he asked, disbelief written all over his face. No fucking WAY.
She smiled at him sweetly, "No. Your Auntie Bellatrix."
He felt the blood leave his cheeks. Whispers fluttered through the group behind her, a low whistle reached his ears.
He made to turn back then, but the foreign hand grasping his arm stopped him. He followed the dark red-lacquered nails to the pale, milky arm, up her slender neck, and to her face.
He looked at her stiffly and asked, "Why is your hand on me, Granger?"
She laughed then, mimicking him, " 'Why-is-your-hand-on-me-Granger?' Hmmm… Maybe because I'm waiting for an apology."
His eyes widened even more then, the rushing sound in his ears reaching deafening levels.
"An apology?", he whispered, tight-lipped.
She barely heard the words. "Yes, an apology."
"For what, may I ask?", he asked, his teeth clenched together.
"Oh, don't worry. I don't want you to apologize for calling me a Mudblood every other day, or for your sweet Auntie Bellatrix who greets me with a lovely 'Avadra' whenever I have the pleasure of encountering her, or even for your excuse of a father who deserves to be rotting away in Azkaban but instead, is serving solitary confinement in the comfort of gilded cage for a measly fifty years. No. I don't need those apologies quite yet. I do, however, want you to apologize for yourself. All I was doing was innocently entertaining my friends.-" Her voice sharpened here. "-But you and abnormally large ego just happened to knock into me, preventing me from finishing a rather hilarious anecdote. And now, because of your clumsiness, that story's wasted. I'll take that apology now, Malfoy." Hermione calmly stated, addicted to the soft thrumming in her tongue, addicted to the salty taste of wit.
Draco felt as though all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Her words slowly burned through and Draco wished she would stop. He wished he could shut her up. But as each word fell from her mouth, dripping with venom, he found himself oddly immobilized. Her words shocked him to the core. He couldn't believe that she had the gall to say those things about him, no less, his father. He breathed through his nose, slowly, his hand twitching for his wand.
She laughed then, her hand resting lightly on her hip. "What, Malfoy? Has the Mudblood rendered you speechless?" And again, he heard the whispers around, felt all of those eyes focusing on him. And that's when he felt it, a soft hand slipping into his own, but he couldn't even turn around to see who it was. Granger's words had ossified his body. Instead, he watched as a body came into his peripheral vision, a goddess clothed in silvery robes. Pansy.
"Oh, shut up Granger. You may be pathetic enough to know everything about Potions, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and every other damned class you've had the misfortune to stuff yourself into, but do NOT pretend to know Draco. Do not pretend to know ANY of us."
Hermione felt her eyes narrow, a hot, fiery anger coursing through her blood.
She focused on Malfoy, her tongue sharp enough to kill. "I'm appalled, Malfoy. Since when do you have your whores protecting you? One would think that Crabbe and Goyle would have been sufficient enough."
Malfoy watched a blur of white flash by his eyes. And then all hell broke loose. Pansy had leapt onto Granger, knocking her down. Granger's friends tried to get the Slytherin off, but no one could stop Pansy. He ran over to her, hoping to pull her away, but a wave of warmth passed through him, and his hands hung limply towards the floor, trying to reach Pansy. He looked at Granger then. Her hair was disheveled, her dress hiked up to her thigh. One of her hands was fisted in Pansy's hair, the other on the Slytherin's arm, trying to remove the nails that were currently digging into her upper arm. She sported several scratches on her cheeks, scratches an angry kitten would have given. Draco locked eyes with Granger, hoping she knew that he would destroy her. She had said many things tonight. Things he would never forget. Things he would make her regret.
Draco closed his eyes, his lids feeling abnormally heavy. He processed the warm waves flowing through his body and he intuited that someone had placed an immobility spell on them. One minute later, a cold sensation slipped down his back and he opened his eyes. Everyone moved slowly out of the spell, fixed their dresses and robes, and stood upright. The headmaster, Snape, and McGonagall made rounds, making sure everyone was okay. He stood still, and wrapped his arm around Pansy, who had swiftly extricated herself from Granger's limbs. Granger turned to her group, whispering furiously to Potter and Weasely, both of whom had just walked in.
Slowly, the students siphoned into the ballroom, he and Pansy trailed the back of the line. As they were about to go through the doors, McGonagall stopped them.
She looked at them, her eyes flashing furiously, "Where do you think you are going Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Parkinson? I hope you aren't under the misconception that there aren't any consequences for your reprehensible actions." She nudged them back towards the room where the headmaster and Snape were waiting with Granger, Potter, and Weasely.
The headmaster looked at Draco for a moment and then addressed the whole group. "Your peers have informed me that you, Ms. Granger, and you Mr. Malfoy, had a heated argument, which later, you, Ms. Parkinson, joined." The three nodded their heads, dismally.
"I am disappointed in all of you. Ms. Granger, as Head Girl, you should have known better. Ms. Parkinson, I understand that you're going through some demanding times now, but that is no excuse for this type of behavior."
Draco's head shot up. What? What's going on with Pansy?
Dumbledore then turned to him and said, "And you, Mr. Malfoy. I know that you have a very difficult decision to make, a decision that even I would loathe to make…I understand that you're feeling very angry now, righteously so, but you cannot interact with your fellow students in such an explosive manner. This type of behavior is simply unacceptable."
Draco saw the Golden Trio's heads shoot up. Fucking idiots don't know a thing. They don't know ANYTHING.
The headmaster turned to face them all then. "And so, as you may have expected, you three will not be allowed into the ballroom."
The guilty perpetrators nodded again.
"You may go back to your respective quarters."
He and Pansy turned together towards the west corridor, and the other three left together through the east. Draco turned back at the last minute, as did Granger. He looked at her, his grey eyes completely glacial.
He would get his revenge. There was no doubt about it.
Author's Notes:
Hello all! And the Dramione has begun! What do you think of it?
Oh, the next chapter (and a lot of the following chapters) has explicit sexual content, and I understand that that sort of writing is not allowed on . So, you can find At Wit's End Uncut on Coloured Grey
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