a/n so so so sorry for the long wait, i promise it wouldn't happen again, it was a long finding a new beta process, but it's all better now huggs all thanks for sticking with me :)

Chapter 14:

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" asked Hermione, looking at Draco with a bitter expression.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied impatiently.

He was sitting by the trophy, holding one of the cloths with the tips of his fingers, looking utterly disgusted. He pressed the cloth to the trophy lightly, making sure his thick yellow gloves did not make any contact with the silvery surface.

"Not scrubbing that's for sure," huffed Hermione.

"I am scrubbing! If you do not like the way I scrub, too bad for you. I am not getting any closer to that trophy."

"Ugh, you are unbearable. Would you scrub normally so we can get this over with, or what? I mean honestly, you're wearing the thickest pair of gloves I've ever seen."

"I told you I am not getting any closer to it!" Draco stood his ground stubbornly.

"You know what? Do as you please," exclaimed Hermione, as her attention was drawn back to scrubbing the trophy on her side. She was holding the trophy with one hand, while scrubbing it feverishly with the other.

"It really isn't helping you know," Hermione tried to reason with him again, half an hour into the detention. "The trophy just looks dirtier then when we first started on it."

Draco just glared at her, as if it was all her fault. "What is it that you expect of me?"

"Cooperation."

"Honestly, Granger."

"Why are you being so stubborn? Why can't you just scrub it normally so we can get this over with?"

"I told you my reasons before."

"They are arrogant and selfish. I do not want to be stuck here forever just because you fear touching the trophy."

"I do not fear touching the trophy. I choose not to. There is a difference you know."

"Whatever, it's still ridiculous. I guess you enjoy being here on a nightly basis," she sneered.

That last sentence got to Draco. He muttered "Bloody hell." as he grabbed the trophy with his left hand, and started polishing it with his right.

"That's more like it," said Hermione, trying her best to stifle a laugh. She never thought she would live to see the day the prince of Slytherin scrub a trophy like an ordinary Muggle.

"This better work Granger, I'm telling you," muttered Draco, furiously.

"I truly hope so," said Hermione, more to herself.

"Oh you will be sorry if it doesn't."

"Really? What would you do?"

"I'm afraid you won't live to find out."

"Is that a threat, Malfoy?"

"I do not threat, I act," Draco clarified.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and continued to scrub. She noticed the trophy got dirtier yet once again. "What is it?" she thought to herself. They were cleaning it together; the trophy was bound to get cleaner, wasn't it?

There must be something they were doing wrong, just something. She didn't know what it was yet, but she would figure it out. She just had to.

"It's not working, Mudblood," sneered Draco, angrily.

What happened next was something neither of them expected. The handle Draco was holding, flattened out of his grip and formed a boxing glove at its tip. It magically lifted itself up and hit Draco square on his head.

"Ouch!" Draco yelled, throwing his gloves off and rubbing the quickly swelling area that the boxing glove had hit.

Hermione couldn't help but roll into a fit of laughter. Draco looked at her, and felt his rage hit new heights.

"What do you find so funny?" he fumed.

Hermione didn't answer, but continued laughing as the handle of the trophy went back to its original form. It took Hermione another two minutes to finally stop laughing; she wiped the tears that were caused by laughter from her eyes, and continued scrubbing the trophy, giggling every time the memory flashed in her mind.

'That would teach him not to call me a Mudblood,' she thought happily, as she felt a fresh roll of laughter begin at the pit of her stomach.

"It wasn't that funny," Draco remarked, his cheeks flushing with anger.

"Not to you," replied Hermione.

Draco just cast her a furious look, put his thick gloves back on and took a hold of the cloth full of polish once more. This time he was scrubbing the trophy without holding on to the handle, afraid it might hit him once more.

Midnight couldn't have arrived sooner. When McGonagall finally looked up from her grading work in order to release them, Hermione shot one last glance at the trophy. It did not look a bit cleaner then when they first started on it; on the contrary, it looked like it was hit with yet another filth bomb.

Perhaps it was all a waste of time. Perhaps this trophy couldn't be cleaned, and McGonagall used it to truly punish them. After all, no matter what they did, and however they tried it wasn't working. Or maybe it really did take a lot longer than one day of scrubbing to clean it. Hermione was naive to think they could be done with this detention in no time. From the looks of it, she would be stuck with Draco for a very long time to come.

She could no longer think of detention; she was tired and her head was aching. She smiled at the thought that today had to be the most amusing day she had in detention thus far. Hermione couldn't wait to tell Ron and Ginny all about how skillful their brothers were. After all inventing a trophy that could hit an arrogant Slytherin was bloody brilliant.

Hermione went to bed in higher spirits then she had all week. It was Wednesday, Draco got hit by the trophy, and it was only two days until the Hogsmeade trip, which meant her date with Ron. Life as of right now was as perfect as it could get.

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"How was your detention Drakypoo?" asked Blaise, mocking Pansy's annoying voice.

"Fine," muttered Draco, ignoring his friends attempt to annoy him.

"Why are you so angry? Did the Mudblood annoy you?" Now Blaise wore Pansy's trademark pouted lips.

"I would appreciate it if you stopped fucking annoying me," barked Draco.

"Someone is moody. Is it that time of the month?" asked Blaise, looking as serious as he could while stifling a laugh.

"You really are asking for a punch Zabini. I warn you, I will ignore the fact that you're my best mate," said Draco, his hands clenched into fists.

Blaise decided to cool off and sit on the armchair across from the fireplace. He had a good laugh and knew it was time to stop; he learned from other's experiences that driving Draco over the edge was not a wise move.

"Seriously, what happened?" he asked in his regular tone.

"Nothing." said Draco, remembering all too well the hard hit he had received; his head was still thumping with pain.

"It doesn't look like nothing," remarked Blaise.

Draco just shot him an angry glare, and looked into the fire. He knew telling Blaise what really happened would open up a whole new subject for laughter, and right now he wasn't really in the mood to be laughed at. He had enough of Granger's Mudblooded laughter.

"It's nothing of great importance Blaise. Can we just drop the subject?"

"I guess we could."

Draco looked into the fire for another minute, before he turned to Zabini with his trademark smirk.

"So, you were checking out a Weasel, Blaise. Truth be told, I never thought I'd see the day," teased Draco, as his friends face turned red.

"I told you before and I am telling you now, I wasn't looking at her."

"I told you before and I am telling you now, yeah right."

"You are unbearable, did you know that?"

"Pansy doesn't fail to remind me that every single day of my life," answered Draco, with a fake concerned sigh.

At his words, the two friends fell into a fit of laughter, which hardened when they imagined the hurt look she would have worn if she would have heard them.

"But seriously, being a blood traitor aside and all, the Weasley chick is kinda hot," said Draco, looking into the fire thoughtfully.

"I guess she is," agreed Blaise.

"And she is a pureblood. Definitely not the type to get serious with; I mean her family is a disgrace to the Wizarding World. But she looks like she would be a good fuck," opinioned Draco.

"She most definitely does."

"And quite a few boys dated her. Rumor says she dumped them all. There must be something about her that attracts males. I mean, even a few Slytherins asked her out."

"Did they? What did she say?" asked Blaise, suddenly interested.

"No, off course. That Gryffindor is a very hard nut to crack you know. That's what would make it all the more fun for you, the challenge," smirked Draco.

Hearing these words, Blaise was really considering going after the female Weasely. Honestly, his intentions would never get serious, and what's so bad about having some fun? Maybe he should go after her, just for the challenge of it; maybe proving no Gryffindor could ever turn him down would keep him busy for a little while. After all, it wasn't like there were any more interesting things to occupy his mind with while he was at Hogwarts.