Chapter 9: What Was Promised
It was another half an hour before Hermione saw any sign of Malfoy at all.
He was flying on his broom above the Quidditch pitch, identifiable only by his hair. Hermione laughed to herself, amused that Malfoy's teammates hadn't told him anything about his bizarre appearance. She assumed that Blaise had had a hand in it, somehow; perhaps suggesting to the rest of the team that they not tell Malfoy, and they allow him to reenter the castle as he currently appeared.
Hermione burst into a fit of hysterics once more as she saw Malfoy flying over the pitch looking utterly ridiculous. She rose from her place on the window bench in the common room and moved toward a door, opening it with a giggle.
A half an hour later Hermione was back in the common room she shared with the Slytherin Prick. She heard loud, aggravated yells from the corridor and with a smile she settled back into sofa and closed her eyes.
Less than thirty seconds later the portrait flew open, Hermione delayed her reaction a moment and then sat up in mock surprise.
She swung her legs off the couch and moved to face Malfoy. She really had to admire her handiwork, as Malfoy slammed the door and stood at the entrance to the common room, completely enraged. His hair was an almost fluorescent pink and his lips had an excessive amount of pink lipstick on them. Perhaps the best or maybe second best part of his entire appearance was the ridiculous butterfly barrette she'd charmed into his hair as a last thought.
The best part of his appearance, however, was his face: he was livid.
Hermione thought that this just made him look more ridiculous, not at all frightening.
He glared at her for a few moments; by now Hermione was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
"You…look…ridiculous."
"Not – another – word, Mudblood. I know you did this."
Since Malfoy had forbid that she speak she just arose and took a sweeping bow and took her seat again. Hermione stifled another laugh and asked, "They let you fly around like that? Some friends you must have, Malfoy."
"When the war comes, Granger, I'll make sure you're at the wrong end of my wand."
Hermione just shrugged.
"Fix it!"
Hermione stared at him.
"Granger! Fix my bloody hair." He pulled out his wand, pointing it at her.
"Oh yes, Avada me now. Then you'll have to get daddy dearest to fix your hair. Now how degrading would that be?"
He moved to wipe the lipstick from his mouth but only succeeded it making it a more hideous shade of pink.
She smirked at him.
"Bloody hell! What, do you want me to apologize? Look what you did to me, Mudblood. You should be apologizing to me! You've been spending too much time with that Loony Lovegood character, Granger, you're off your rocker. Do you honestly expect me to apologize to you?"
She nodded.
"You've gone batty."
She looked down her nose at him.
He huffed, "No way. Not even to Merlin himself."
Instead of responding Hermione rose from the couch and made toward her room.
"Okay, okay! Merlin!" He shouted in an attempt to cease her departure. He began in a quick and quiet tone, "I'm sorry I called Potter and Weasley names."
Hermione shook her head.
"I'm sorry I spoke ill of your parents?"
She shrugged.
"I'm sorry I called you a Mudblood?"
She nodded, "Very good. Now repeat after me, 'Hermione Granger is smarter than me.'"
"Granger is smart."
"No, Ferret."
"This is stupid, Mudblood."
She gave him a pointed look.
"I'm sorry, Granger." He said sulkily.
She looked disappointed, "I suppose that will have to do. Although I expect you to recite it for me tomorrow morning."
"Oh, bloody hell!" She stared expectantly at him, "Alright, alright. Now will you fix this?" He pointed to his hair.
She rolled her eyes and raised her wand, "Finite Incantatem." She lowered her wand as Malfoy moved to speak again.
He advanced on her, "Don't you ever do that to me again, Mud-"
Within a second her wand was waving menacingly in his face.
"What was that, Ferret?"
"Listen you Mudblood bit-"
"Windgardium Leviosa."
Malfoy rocketed towards the ceiling where he remained suspended, looking irritably down at Hermione.
"I'm glad you like to fly, Malfoy," She said, whipping her wand to the left and watching Malfoy move subsequently, crashing into the wall, "because it appears that at the rate you're going that you'll be doing quite a lot of flying – on the Quidditch pitch and off."
"Let me down." He demanded.
"The last time you demanded that you injured your arm – do you really want to do that again?"
"No." He replied quickly,"Damn it, Granger!"
She waved in mock sweetness and gave him a big smile.
Malfoy sighed exasperatedly and muttered, "Hermione Granger is smarter than me."
Hermione gave a quick nod, "Thank you."
And within half a second Draco Malfoy found himself falling through the air. By the time he hit the floor the door to Hermione's room had shut.
It took Malfoy a moment to recover and when he finally did he cursed Granger for his unexpected flight – and fall. He pushed himself up off the common room floor and dusted himself off. "I cannot believe I said that. Granger? Smarter than me? Ha-ha."
It took him a moment to realize that he was still dressed in his Quidditch robes. Seeing this he moved quickly to his room.
Upon opening the door he blanched at the sight before him. Everything in his room was the same grotesque pink color that is hair had been.
And on the wall opposite the door, spelled out in grossly large purple letters were the words "Fickle Ferret, you have no merit. You got what you deserved."
He was about to scream when his room began to hum, and then play a particularly annoying tune, accompanied by a predominantly child-like voice singing the very words that were on his wall.
"GRAAAAANGER!"
The next morning at breakfast Blaise Zabini took his customary seat at the Slytherin table. Sitting across from Malfoy he watched him as he unconsciously hummed a strange tune.
Blaise laughed and Draco looked up, "So you're blonde again, then?"
Draco practically stared daggers.
"Right, sorry mate. I just thought that you looked particularly good with pink hair, not as pale and corpse-like as you do now. Although please warn me the next time you care to experiment with color palettes, I might've been able to choose a more flattering color."
Draco was back to staring at him plate; he stabbed at his eggs angrily.
Later that afternoon Hermione was in the library researching an essay for Herbology. She'd been sitting at a back table in an attempt to avoid any unwanted glances from younger Gryffindors, but apparently she couldn't avoid the company of Blaise Zabini, because he found her quite easily.
"Hello, love." He said and then he kissed her for the sake of…well, no one.
She gave him a look, but greeted him all the same.
"Nice show last night." He said.
"Pardon?" She asked innocently.
"Oh, come on! Malfoy's hair?" She looked at him quizzically, but he knew that she knew what he was talking about. "I particularly liked the butterfly barrette, it was a nice touch."
She grinned, "I thought so, myself, actually."
They both laughed as the image of Malfoy came back to them.
"You couldn't have picked a more flattering color?"
She laughed and asked, "So how'd you know it was me?"
"It was quite simple to deduce. You see, one, you're the only other person in Hogwarts – aside from me, of course – capable of it. And two, you're the only other person audacious enough to do it."
"Yes well, I couldn't resist: laughs at Malfoy's expense really are the best kind."
He kissed her hand as he rose, "I couldn't agree more, my dear."
She laughed at him and swatted his hand away.
And in turn, he laughed as he turned to walk away, but called out over his shoulder just before he escaped her line of vision, "You really should've been in Slytherin, love."
Hermione smiled as she went back to her books.
Author's Note: Indeed many of your guesses were correct. But I added a little twist that I hope you enjoyed. Hope you liked it, I plan on getting another chapter up over this break.
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Happy Holidays,
Nicole