Draco stormed over to her, eyes flashing.
Flashing and worried.
"Granger!" he exclaimed.
"So sorry," said Hermione sarcastically.
She hiccuped.
"Do you have any idea what's wrong with you?" he asked.
Curious and annoyed.
He was wasting his time to help a muggle-born!
The world must be coming to an end, he thought, smirking to himself.
If any of the Slytherins knew, they would have a heart attacks or faint or something.
That would be interesting.
He actually laughed out loud.
Nice one, Draco, he thought. Smooth.
"What about you? You're smiling and laughing to yourself like you're mad! The only thing wrong with my life is that you're in it!"
Ouch, that hurt. Not.
"And those annoying hiccups," added Draco.
"For once in my life, I agree with you," Hermione groaned. "This stupid book isn't telling me anything! What is Singultitus, anyways?"
She appeared to be talking to herself, but he didn't really care.
He interrupted her, "Really? Singultitus? I doubt you have it. If you did...that would be just plain scary"
Terrifying. Horrifying.
"And why would that be?" she questioned, a spark of curiosity on her face.
"Oh, my cousin told me about some poor kid who had it. Some disease that comes to you when someone casts it on you. What, do you think you have it, Granger?"
Besides, who would want to cast a spell on some mad, book-loving chick?
"How do you get rid of it? If you had it?" Hermione asked.
She looked frightened.
Draco smirked. "Well, since you don't have it, I don't think you need to know."
He knew he was being difficult, but annoying her was so much fun.
Just look at her beautiful, furious eyes.
What was he thinking?
Was he going mad too?
"That disease isn't contagious, right?" he asked.
"How should I know?"
She threw him an exasperated glance.
Draco ran out of the library, knocking several people over in the process.
He arrived at his destination.
The infirmary.