Title: Mischief Managed
Rating: PG for some sexual innuendo
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from this story, all Harry Potter copyrights belong to J.K. Rowling. Also, there is a line shamelessly stolen from The Princess Bride, copyright William Goldman. Can you find it?
Warnings: Uh, incredible silliness?
Author Notes: The HP Lexicon was invaluable in the plotting and writing of this fic, as it gave me many ideas for the potions used & abused in this story. Cheers to bamboo for helping me brainstorm, and to Lorett and deemichelle for the fantastic beta work. Is a bit EWE, but you could say it is selectively AU, rather than completely AU. Also, due to time constraints, it needs to be Brit-picked better than it actually is. Ah well. Enjoy!
Summary: Crazy things happen sometimes. Like utter Bedlam. Like learning how to fly a broom without dying. Like sudden verbal diarrhea. Like taking a chance. Like love.
000
Chapter Two: In Which There Is Much Investigating
000
Early Afternoon, The Dungeons:
"The students have escaped their common rooms again!"
Most of the staff was gathered in a small, dank room in dungeons temporarily deemed "Crisis HQ." (The usual staff room was under a curse that caused it to downpour ceaselessly. Luna had been trying to clean up that particular mess since lunchtime.)
Hermione rubbed her temples in agitation. "Thank you Mr. Filch." She turned weary eyes onto the other staff members in the tiny, uncomfortable room. "Whose turn is it to round up the escaped students?"
"Who died and made you headmistress? Oh, yes, McGonagall, apparently. But I'll have you know,I am the senior staff member here."
"Malfoy, you were hired two days before I was."
"And that makes me senior, doesn't it? Or above you, anyway."
Pansy smirked. "But would being below her really be so bad?"
Draco looked at her incredulously. "You really do need to get laid, Pans, you really do."
Neville was trying to look grim, and failing miserably. (Mostly because long, soft bunny ears trembling cutely does not a threatening picture make.)
"Right. We need a plan."
"Really? What a mind-boggling observation."
"Malfoy, is the sarcasm really necessary?"
"Necessary? Is breathing necessary? Is eating necessary? Is bathing necessary? Well, perhaps not for the Weasel…"
Ron groaned, "We get the point. Being a git is your basal state. How bloody marvelous for us. But really, what are we going to do about this situation?"
Hermione leaned forward eagerly. "We have a few priorities, we need to investigate and we need to brew antidotes. I think an investigative team made of myself, Harry, Ronald, and Neville should do, and Pansy, Luna and Draco will brew the antidotes that Ginny decides we need."
"Hold on a tic, Granger, that investigation business sounds infinitely more entertaining than brewing potions all day. And it seems you've assigned yourself to that team." Draco shot her a smug smile. "I fancy I know why."
Hermione smiled tightly. "And I suppose you're going to tell me, aren't you?"
"Of course," Draco leaned forward, his hot breath caressing Hermione's neck, "You fancy yourself a right avenging heroine to save the day. With your luck I'll bet you'd be bloody fantastic, per usual. Yet," He said, idly tracing a complex pattern with his fingers on her exposed skin, "I need your expertise in the dungeons, brewing potions with me. Can't you imagine how good we'd be together?"
"And," He stated briskly, sitting up quickly, leaving Hermione flushed and confused, "I don't want to brew potions with Horny and Looney all day. I feel amazing! It would be such a waste of my talents and bloody good fortune sitting on my arse in the dungeons, all day. With our luck combined, and not to mention a healthy dose of talent, we'd be done in a pinch, leaving the evening free for other… activities."
Hermione snapped out her sensual daze, eyes snapping fire. "It's my lucky day too, you great big prat, and you don't see me being selfish, do you?"
"On the contrary, my dear, you gave yourself the better assignment while neglecting the good of the community at large. Therefore you are more selfish."
Hermione sputtered incoherently.
Draco tugged one long chestnut spiral fondly. "Don't you worry luv, to a Slytherin your delectable selfishness just makes you more attractive."
Harry groaned and glared at the pair. "Will you stop squabbling? We have more important things to do to do than listen to your unresolved sexual tension. Just shag already so we can get to more important matters."
Two wands were trained on him before he could blink.
"Take it back!"
"My sex life is none of your business, Scarhead!"
Bottle-green eyes blinked innocently. "We all think so. The teacher's betting pool has odds on you shagging like rabbits before the month is out. Although Pansy here has you breaking down before the end of the week." His black brows furrowed in concentration. "Pans, did you have them shagging on the Quidditch Pitch or the Astronomy Tower for the bonus 100 galleons?"
Ron groaned. "Get out of here before you get us all killed!"
000
Not Much Later, Hogwarts Grounds:
Hermione marched on the crisp leaves on her way towards the Whomping Willow. She snuggled into her cloak as a particularly chilly breeze wormed its way across her skin.
Crackle, crackle, crackle. Hermione thought happily as she brought her foot down hard on a dry red leaf. I love autumn. It would be such a lovely day, if not for other complications. Even so, it's at least been interesting.
Hermione squinted into the bright sunlight, and took a large breath of cool air, enjoying the feel of it as it shot to her lungs. She grinned widely as she thought about Bunny-Neville, Horny-Pansy, and Flobber-Tongued Harry.
Her face stilled as she thought about Draco. Draco…
He hadn't been so bad lately. Okay fine, when you looked past the snarkiness, the temper, and the overwhelming arrogance of the prat, he could be alright. Well, perhaps 'alright' was a euphemism.
Hermione sighed heavily. She was a Gryffindor, damn it, she could face the truth.
He was wonderful.
She cringed inwardly, and her eyes darted around, searching instinctively for intruders who could pluck the horrid thoughts from her brain.
Draco was witty, observant, fun, and sexy as hell. But if she ever softened towards him, he was sure to break her heart. He'd woo her, seduce her, and they would probably have a grand time, but ultimately he would leave her.
She was still a Mudblood, after all.
He may desire her, but had he ever actually seen her? Ever really long for her company, her conversation? Would he care enough to love her despite her many flaws and really try to make a go of a relationship?
Hermione certainly didn't think so. Although a fling would be nice, (Really nice. She hadn't had sex since… well. That wasn't something she liked to think about.) she was really a relationship sort of girl.
Maybe if…
Crack!
Hermione spun, lightening fast, wand thrust forward, prepared to attack.
Dreamy grey eyes stared at her, mocking her silent thoughts.
Hermione sighed wearily and lowered her wand. "Why do I keep running into you?"
Draco grinned, rather smarmily, in Hermione's opinion. "Must be your lucky day."
Hermione rolled her eyes and giggled despite herself.
"What are you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be saving the world, as usual?"
Hermione arched an elegant brow. "A student fell in love with the Whomping Willow. His friends took him into the infirmary, but in case he escapes I am erecting some precautionary wards. What about you?"
"Just wanted some air. It was getting a tad stifling in the Lounge with all of the unresolved sexual tension between the Weasel and the Bunny." He grinned cheekily, showing off an impressive set of teeth. (Hermione was a sucker for beautiful teeth.)
As they spoke, they walked quietly on the winding path Draco's long stride instinctively slowing to match her smaller one. He grandly gestured to the forest. "Maybe they should mate and populate the forbidden forest with a new kind of rodentia."
Hermione giggled, "You're horrible! But sorry to spoil your fun, weasels aren't rodents, they are of the family Mustelidae."
Draco glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smiled fondly, but otherwise ignored her statement. He tapped his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. "What shall we call this new species, Granger?"
She clapped one gloved hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her mirth. Snickering loudly, she played along. "Nevalds?"
Draco, gravely serious, said, "Not quite. It doesn't have the ring of true imbecility that this new breed will capture and distill."
Hermione hooted.
Draco stopped suddenly, causing Hermione to trip over his Hessian-clad leg. Catching her with lightening-fast reflexes, his dove-grey eyes softened as he gently righted her. Tucking a springy curl behind her ear, he smiled warmly. "I have it, Granger. We shall call them Wheeze-Bottoms. That sounds both sickly and stupid."
Hermione closed her eyes and groaned. "Ron will be absolutely wretched to live with when he finally snaps out of this crazy haze."
Draco sighed in contentment as he took one of her hands in his. "But the blackmail will be so very, very rewarding."
Hermione suddenly realized their incredibly intimate position. They were standing in a cozily secluded area of the path, their position hidden by a cove of huge holly bushes. She was standing so close to his body that she could feel his heat radiating through his elegant robes, intoxicating her.
Riotous colored leaves swirled around them as the wind whipped the surrounding trees into a frenzy.
Hermione lifted half-lidded eyes to his face, meaning to tell him that she must get going, but was struck dumb by the sheer heat of his gaze.
Hesitantly, afraid of startling her, he cupped her face and slowly, inevitably, lowered his mouth to hers.
Their lips met in a kiss that was both gentle and shocking, the light touch sending a jolt of agonizing pleasure through Hermione's body. His lips tenderly, tentatively searched the shape of her soft mouth, exploring her luxuriously, carefully, thoroughly.
Hermione, frustrated with his gentle kisses, flicked her tongue against his lips. He moaned softly, but otherwise resumed his maddening ministrations to her mouth. Lightly, she bit his bottom lip, looking into his hot eyes mischievously.
Soon a ferocious battle of lips, teeth and tongue was engaged, fueled by years of pent up passion.
Draco's mind went absolutely blank as he absorbed the reality of his situation. He was kissing Hermione Granger. Kissing her!
Not too hasty, Malfoy, An innately Slytherin part of him hissed. (It sounded strangely like his mother. Rather Oedipal, that.) Lure her in first.
He ignored it and contemplated the convenient bed of leaves next to them. He could get their clothes off and use their cloaks to keep the chill away…
Hisinner Slytherin screamed at him. Seduce her; don't scare her, you fool!
Reluctantly, he backed off. "You could give me a chance," he whispered softly in between kisses as light and as sweet as spun sugar. "I could be very, very nice to you."
Hermione leaned into his body in response, shuddering at the feel of his hard muscles against her softness. But something (Perhaps it was her one remaining brain cell focused on logic and not sex.) in her pleasure-drunk mind reminded her of her earlier thoughts. He's just going to use you, Hermione. He only wants one thing! And although you will enjoy that one thing immensely, you know how you'll feel afterwards.
"Hermione, we've been dancing around this long enough. Would you..."
"Draco," Hermione interrupted, eyes wild. Words tumbled out of her mouth, almost without her conscious knowledge. "I can't do this right now. Um, I told Luna I'd be back to look at the mysterious Wobbler nest in the Astronomy Tower. Cheers!
Hermione sprinted away as fast as her limited athletic ability would take her.
He's not serious, She thought frantically, He can't be serious!
Draco kicked the piles of leaves in a childish frenzy, teeth grinding fiercely, strangling a scream of frustration. Luckiest day of my life, my arse.
000
Somewhere in the Vicinity of Many Broom Closets, Hogwarts Corridors:
"… I don't understand why I couldn't play 'Good Mop, Bad Mop.' Neville and I would make the most beautiful partnership." Ron pouted petulantly, his lower lip sticking out. (It was a strangely fetching look on him.)
"I'm sure you would have made a smashing Mop," Pansy purred soothingly.
The pair was wandering the corridors of the Castle aimlessly, trying to ponder their cryptic assignment. As Ron was addled by his newfound love, and Pansy was simply addled, it was not working as well as projected.
"Not that I know what a Mop does anyway. Hermione has to quit using the wonky Muggle terms. 'Make out the suspects' indeed," Ron pondered this for the upteenth time. "What does that mean exactly? The suspects bit I can figure handily, but what does 'make out' mean anyway?"
"Erhm," A young girl stepping out of the bathroom interrupted their aimless wandering tentatively. "I think I can help you…"
"What are you doing out of your common room, young lady? Twenty points from," Pansy squinted at the child's necktie, "Hufflepuff."
"I understand Professor, but you seemed so confused as to the Muggle terminology, and in light of the situation, I felt I had to help you out."
"On with it then."
"Well," the girl said, flushing, "'Making-out' is common American Muggle slang for, well, snogging."
"Snogging?" Ron said quizzically.
"Snogging?!?" Pansy said brightly.
"Snogging."
"Fan-bloody-tastic!" Pansy squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Did you hear that, Weasley? Snogging! We were going about this completely arse-backwards."
"But I don't understand," Ron said, "What does snogging have to do with suspects?"
"Don't know, don't care," Pansy said gaily, "Fifty points to Hufflepuff for that most excellent bit of enlightenment."
The girl waved smartly and said, "Anything to help! I just want to my boyfriend to stop acting like a giraffe!" She then sped down the hall without looking back.
Ron looked at Pansy warily. "You don't actually think that you and I need to, erhm… well…"
"You heard what she said, it's part of our job specifications!" Pansy said, leading Ron by the hand, merrily searching for any convenient dark, secluded nooks. (Private was preferable, but Pansy was too horny to be picky.)
"I don't think that it necessarily means…"
Pansy grinned wickedly as she shoved a sputtering Ron into the handy broom closet nearby.
She was beaming as she slammed the door shut after them.
000
Potions Classroom, The Dungeons:
"Right. It seems our agents who were sent to find suspects have been unavoidably detained."
"Oh?" Luna looked up from the potion she was brewing, "Where did Ron and Pansy go?"
Draco smiled wryly, "We have absolutely no idea."
Luna smiled dreamily, but simply said, "I see."
Busily trying not to look at Draco, Hermione harumphed as she carefully added a few lacefly wings to her steaming cauldron. It turned a sickly shade of puce, and Hermione quickly started stirring briskly. As she stirred, she said, "Well, we certainly can't spare the manpower to look for them. Filch and Hagrid are busy with the students, we are brewing potions, Neville is interrogating suspects, and Harry is busy helping Ginny in the Infirmary."
As if on cue, Harry sauntered into the room. "Do you have any new antidotes for Gin? It's a right madhouse up there. Wish I didn't have this horrid case of verbal diarrhea, else I could come up with a better excuse to leave that insane asylum. Coming down here was the most truthful thing I could think of in a pinch."
Draco sniffed haughtily as he viciously chopped his flobberworms into delicate pieces. "Such a lovely example of martial harmony."
Harry shrugged. "You try being married nearly a decade, and see what coping mechanisms you develop."
Luna smiled and said, "I think you do a lovely job, Harry."
"Thank you."
Draco sneered and gagged mockingly. "As this turn of discussion has become oddly like a meeting of the Hufflepuff House Hearts Harry Society, I propose a change in subject. Topic: My luck, and how I am going get lucky in the bedroom." Draco caught Hermione's eyes and smiled slowly, somehow conveying exactly who he was planning on getting lucky with.
Hermione flushed from hairline to neckline. (And probably beyond. Draco enjoyed imagining the beyond.) "You're not going to get that lucky today, let me assure you."
Draco calmly returned to his chopping. "So you say. But matters of my incredible sexual prowess aside, we still have the outstanding problem of having students running amok and no one to blame for it."
Luna stirred her potion and said thoughtfully, "Well, we still haven't questioned Teddy Lupin yet. He's our only real suspect at this point."
Hermione sighed, "True, but the only one without any sort of assignment at this time is Neville. While he could play good cop convincingly enough, he doesn't have enough killer instinct to really get the kind of answers we need."
Draco shrugged, "I can do it. After I add these flobberworms, the potion has to simmer for an hour in any case."
Hermione leapt on the chance to be rid of his distracting presence, at least temporarily. "Marvelous. Would you like to have Harry or Neville go with you?"
"I'm not going to interrogate the suspect with the Scarry-Faced Git. He doesn't have an ounce of delicacy in his entire body. Not to mention that the man blurts out every thought he has ever had. Not too good for subtlety, that."
Hermione pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh, and a strange snorting sound issued forth instead.
Harry looked at her closely. "Hermione, are you quite alright? You look a bit peaky. You're all flushed and you have the strangest expression on your face. You might want to have that tickle looked at by Gin before it develops into the flu. Remember when you had it a few years ago? You looked an absolute wretch for a month at least."
Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth and rushed from the room.
Harry blinked, "I hope she isn't going to lose her lunch. She may have a fantastic arse, but we need her brain for this one!"
Draco smiled calmly and folded his hands behind his head. "No, I expect she just got my point."
000
A Dank, Cold, Incredibly Cheerless Room, The Dungeons:
"You look nervous, Lupin."
Teddy Lupin gritted his teeth, but smiled sweetly at his least favorite professor. "It's Professor Longbottom, sir. It's… disturbing to see him like that."
"That," Draco said wryly, "Is probably the most truthful thing you've said all evening."
Teddy's big blue eyes widened, his face the very picture cherubic innocence, his hair turning a soft, pure shade of sky-blue.
Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"You're hiding something, brat. I don't like it."
Neville shushed him swiftly, and fixed a wide grin on his face. One brown, floppy ear falling over his eyes, fast tracking his appearance swiftly from cute to adorable. "We believe you Teddy. Now tell me what happened yesterday in the potions closet."
"Well sir, I was organizing the potions for Madame Potter, as Professor Malfoy said. But I grew bored, so I left for a moment when Professor Malfoy was chatting up Professor Parkinson." Teddy stopped and gulped quietly, his hair changing to a dark, mottled green.
"What did you do, Teddy?" Neville gently prompted.
"Yes, Lupin. Whatever did you do?" Draco said coldly.
"Erhm, well, I… uh…"
"Speak up boy!" Draco snapped.
"I… went-to-the-loo-got-sidetracked-and-snogged-Victoire-in-the-girl's-bathroom." Teddy blurted, hair and face morphing to a crimson red.
"That's it?" Draco asked, eyes hard.
"That's it."
Neville's whiskers trembled cutely as he sighed in relief. "Well, Teddy, I can't say I am pleased about that sort of behavior, but I'm afraid your punishment will have to wait until the pandemonium has died down. For now you'll be confined to our common room with the rest of the Gryffindors until something can be worked out."
Draco looked at Neville in disbelief. "You don't actually believe that rubbish, do you?"
"Draco, the boy has taken Veritaserum."
"Yes, but my inner Slytherin is telling me that he's getting away with something." Draco's eyes narrowed. "I don't like it."
Draco sauntered towards the small student slowly; the boy was squirming uneasily in his chair, his hair changing colors with blinding speed. Grey eyes, colder than arctic winter, pierced Teddy's blue ones, positively reeking with malevolence.
"Don't think I'll forget this, boy." Draco sneered, his voice low and harsh, "If you had anything to do with this rubbish, anything at all, I will make sure your time at Hogwarts is so miserable you will wish you had never been born."
At the end of this ominous speech, Neville's luminous brown eyes were huge. "Draco, you… you sounded exactly like S-Snape."
Draco smirked. "I know."
With that, Draco gave Lupin one more suspicious look, sniffed haughtily, and swept out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.
Neville looked at the door, his little pink nose trembling nervously, as if the ghost of his most dreaded Professor would pop out of it to haunt him for eternity. (Stranger things had happened. This was Hogwarts, after all.)
Gathering his courage, he decided it would be best to join his colleagues and share what he had learned. "Erhm, thank you, Teddy. Hope you have a pleasant day." With that, he left, leaving Teddy all alone in the small, airless room.
Teddy slumped in his seat, his hair turning a pale, pale pink in relief, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
000
High Tea, Crisis HQ Again, The Dungeons:
"Is still think he could be hiding something." Draco muttered around a chocolate biscuit. (Elegantly, of course. Anyone who said he looked like one Ronald Weasley whilst snacking would die a swift, painful death.)
"Stop pestering my Godson!" Harry said, grabbing the last piece of chocolate cake whilst glaring at Malfoy fiercely.
"She-Weasel," Draco snapped, "Get your female life-companion and your spawn under control."
"Malfoy," Ginny sighed and sipped her tea patiently as she calmly kept a hyperactive James from going on a destructive rampage. "There are children present."
"As if I care."
Hermione marched into the room, looking determined and pleased with herself. "Everyone, I've made thorough lists of tasks and schedules for tonight and tomorrow. If we all follow the list of duties outlined, we should be past this crisis by breakfast tomorrow."
She sat herself down on a sofa next to Pansy, who was currently engrossed in an erotic magazine. Hermione looked at it and blushed beet red. Sniffing disdainfully, she asked, "How about I pour? Harry do you want any tea?"
After she passed out the cups, she took stock of the room. "As everyone is here, I will pass out the schedules, and we can go over them together. Then, as Mr. Filch and Hagrid have the students under control, we can try to narrow down the suspect list."
Pansy leaned forward munching on her digestive biscuit thoughtfully. "Does anyone else think that she's a bit out of control? It's rather sexy."
Draco said, admiringly, "She always has been a bit power-hungry."
"Maybe it's the Felix Felicitas," Neville added helpfully, "It's supposed to make one overconfident and reckless."
"Nah," Ron said dismissively, "That's part of her personality."
"I heard that, Ron!"
"Love you too, Hermione." Ron blew her a mocking kiss, and settled down on the sofa practically plastered himself to Neville. (Who, it must be said, leapt up and hastily made excuses, leaving a pouting Ron behind.)
"I have to say that this whole mess has been positively dreadful," Ginny said angrily, "Don't we have any other suspects besides Teddy?"
Pansy looked up from the copy of PlayWizard magazine she was ogling. "How do we know you didn't plan this whole thing? You administered the potions, after all."
Ginny's eyes widened, and her hands, which were currently trying to untangle James' matted hair, stilled.
"Dear Merlin," She said, aghast, "Why would I ever do that?"
"Well," Pansy drawled, shifting seductively, "You do have an unhealthy tendency to be a busybody. Isn't this the most excellent setup for gossip you've ever seen?"
Ginny righted her son and gave him a few biscuits. Dryly, she said, "Do you really believe I'd give myself days of extra work for a little gossip?"
Pansy shrugged her shoulders languidly. "Not really. You're too Gryffindor for that."
Ginny snorted. "Isn't that the truth. Anyway, if you're going to suspect someone on the staff, suspect Luna. She was in the potions corridor yesterday and brought the bin of potions up to the infirmary."
Draco's eyes sharpened as he spotted fresh prey. "Looney, what the hell were you doing in my territory yesterday?"
"Looking for Yellow Livelykins. A second year Hufflepuff spotted one in the dungeons last week. They live in dark, damp places, so I was checking to see if they were in the tapestries."
"Luna…"
"They're quite nasty. You should be glad I checked. An infestation could be horridly exciting."
Luna settled herself in quite comfortably and poured herself another cuppa. "Besides, I believe it is much more likely that Draco is the culprit. After all, he brewed the potions and bottled them. And his affliction is quite benign, even beneficial."
Everyone turned on him suspiciously.
Draco was supremely unruffled by all of the attention. (In fact, he even preened a little bit when Pansy admired the cut of his robes.) "If I had done this, don't you think I would have owned up to it by now? And I certainly wouldn't be helping to correct the problem, now would I?"
Ginny shrugged and said, "That's true."
Everyone else was appeased, and went back to their tea, but Hermione still looked at Draco suspiciously. "Malfoy… is that a lottery ticket? That is completely unethical!"
Draco hid the stub defensively. Time for defensive maneuvers. He looked in her shoulder bag and sniffed. "What is that stack of tiny knitted caps for?"
Hermione flushed darkly, "None of your business!"
Draco sipped his tea feeling rather Machiavellian. "Understood."
000
Late Afternoon, Headmistresses Office, Hogwarts:
Draco and Hermione were in McGonagall's office, making various Emergency Floo calls to the Ministry and St. Mungo's. The call to St. Mungo's was mercifully swift- they would send needed potions, but, so sorry, they still had no Mediwizards to spare for their situation.
The dreaded call to the Ministry, however, was not so brief. Within a few minutes of the official's condescending, pompous speech about how poorly the staff was handling the situation, Hermione was ready to hex the man until he couldn't see straight. Draco, however, being much more experienced at getting what he wanted from complete idiots, soon had the beastly wizard promising them to send the aid Hogwarts needed.
When they were finished, Hermione quickly stood up and strode to the door. Draco was having none of it. He called after her, and his question froze her in her tracks. "You never did start to trust me, did you?"
Slowly, she turned around, frantically attempting to calm her raging emotions before she spoke. Looking into his fathomless eyes, she said, "Why should I? You were always a horrid, beastly boy to me, and I didn't see that changing."
Draco sighed and sat on a plushy upholstered sofa. He ran his hands through his shock of white-blond hair and looked at her a bit sadly. "But surely we've made some progress beyond that point?"
Hermione took pity on him, and sat beside him. Placing a small hand on his broad back, she noted wryly, "Perhaps. You've been somewhat less horrid the past few years."
"Why, Granger, I didn't know you cared."
"Marginally."
Draco was silent for a moment, and traced the golden paisley pattern with a perfectly manicured finger. When he finally looked up, his grey eyes were very serious. "I never did apologize for my behavior as a boy. I was perfectly wretchedly, miserable. And wrong. You'll never know how sorry I am for the things I said… and did," He frowned miserably. "It's a bit of a miracle you and the others have accepted me as much as you do now."
Draco leaned forward until he was only a few centimeters from her body, and she could practically feel his banked excitement. Her breath caught in her throat. Merlin, he's handsome.
He continued, earnestly. (It was a strangely arresting expression on his usually closed face.) "I know you Hermione. I know you like to sing in the shower, stop and smell the lilacs by the lake when you think no one is watching, and that your favorite color is periwinkle. I know you like to use lily of the valley shampoo. I know your very favorite spell is Expecto Patronum because you like the wrist movement. I know you are a wonderful, serious, interesting woman that I'd like to get to know even better. But do you know what I like most about you?"
"What?" Hermione breathed, soft pink lips parted in expectation.
"I know…" Draco dragged the pad of his thumb over her lower lip.
Hermione's eyes closed and her breath quickened.
"I know… that you don't wear any knickers under your robes."
Hermione's eyes snapped open.
"Lies!" Hermione shrieked as he ran from the room, smirking like a fiend.
000
Recipent: Emm718
REQUEST
Would you prefer an art or fic gift? A fic.
Describe your ideal gift in as few words as possible (plus rating): Comedy, a bit of Drama, perhaps a who-done-it??? Oh yes. A wildly imaginative creation. Purdy please.
Dealbreakers (absolute no-no's): No character death. Must be nice to Ron and Pansy. Not too much angst. Oh and please, if in the case that you decide it is imperative that Draco and Hermione bump uglies, I don't want non-con, s&m, etc. Lets keep it respectful.