Chapter 8
The incessant knocking at his door woke him up.
"Go 'way, Pansy." He muttered through the sleepy haze wishing that for once in her life, she would take a friggin hint and briefly forgetting that Pansy never knocked.
The banging just got harder.
"Merlin's balls, woman! What are you even doing up so early?" He shouted.
He pulled the covers up to his face and pressed his head farther back into the pillow.
"Draco Malfoy, if you don't open up this instant you'll be very sorry! I promise you!"
His eyes snapped open. Granger's magically amplified voice permeating into his room effectively woke him up. He grinned. Well, going back to sleep was out of the question now. He took his sweet time getting up. Yawning and stretching like a satisfied cat after a long night's sleep, he glanced at the closed door. He debated whether he should just walk up to the door to tell her off or settle back in for some early morning amusement.
He silently unlocked the door with a non-verbal which turned out to be a pretty fantastic idea as Granger, who must have been leaning on his door like a demented muggle, promptly fell on her face at his threshold.
Despite having just woken up, Draco threw his head back and laughed. Now this was a sight for the sore eyes. She hastily stood up, with her hair falling into her face and her face beet red. His laughter gradually subsided as he noticed an unfamiliar expression settle over her features. In fact, her entire demeanour now resembled that of a cornered rabbit ready to bolt. She wasn't even looking at him, not really. She was eyeballing his chest at intervals and then looking away briskly. He looked down to his bare chest when the realization of the century descended upon him with the weight of a ten tonne hippogriff.
Oh this was too rich.
Buck-toothed, bushy haired, incessant know-it-all and the recently appointed head girl of Hogwarts was, in fact, a girl.
He didn't know what came over him. Smirking, he took a fistful of the bed covers and cast them aside with a grand flourish. Stretching again for her sake, he reached for the emerald coloured silk robe hanging on the back of a chair.
She gave a small squeal at the sight of his boxers clad self and turned away to face the door.
"Fancied a chat, Granger?"
A beat later, she spoke in a decidedly higher voice.
"Yes, I would appreciate if you cover yourself up and meet me in the office within fifteen minutes." With that, she scampered out of his room without giving him a chance to retaliate.
Deflated, he settled back on his bed. Some Gryffindor.
Open up or you'll be sorry.
Very sorry indeed. She hadn't counted upon the slimy git to be this crafty even at six in the morning.
She had spent the remainder of her night tossing in her bed, occasionally sitting up to look at all the finished schedules sitting innocently upon her desk, only to seethe in anger at the sight time and again.
She had acknowledged at some point of time during the past two days that her year ahead was going to be quite a strenuous one and her partnership with Draco Malfoy was only going to aid to the case. She had even been unconsciously gearing up for an impending face-off between them, one that had somehow been neglected for the past three years or so in favour of other important things. But juvenile antics and name calling be damned, that albino ferret was now simply asking for an old muggle style punch in the face.
She'd had every intention to march into his room and hex the living crap out of him. Because really, what did he hope to achieve by turning in those timetables now? She wasn't going to tolerate this behaviour just so he could find his own sick amusement. She had imagined pouring ice-cold water over his bed in his sleep or hexing his hair red or something but she'd been thwarted with the multiple locking charms he'd placed at his door. She'd wondered if he was paranoid or whether it was just a Slytherin thing.
She blushed again as she recalled the sight and then proceeded to admonish herself over being so ridiculous.
Thirty minutes later, she heard his door opening. She looked over to find him fully dressed in his predictable black robes, his blonde hair parted to the side and the expression of the world's biggest egomaniac plastered upon his face.
She wasted no time beating around the bush.
"I know you hate me and my friends and derive some sort of sadistic pleasure by trying to make our lives as difficult as you can, but these childish games have got to stop. Why must you expend so much time and energy over such pointless things?"
He stared at her as she relayed her honest concerns, that eternal smirk poised on his lips. As the early morning light filtered in through the windows and illuminated his person just so, Hermione could vaguely see why he was so full of himself. Empirically speaking, he could be described as good looking, when added to the fact that he stood as the world's richest poster boy for all Death Eaters and purebloods alike, she understood why so many girls fought for his attention. It was no wonder that he had incontestably ruled the house of Slytherin for years and she realised now, that it had less to do with his father's identity and more to do with his own singularity.
"If you're under the delusion that I did those timetables by myself, you're sure to be disappointed." He stated lazily.
"What do you mean?"
He scoffed.
"Do you honestly think I would waste my time scribbling away timetables for children? I had one of those filthy elves do it for me." He watched with utter satisfaction as her faux peaceful disposition disappeared in an instant.
"You WHAT?"
"Nasty green face it had. Huge muddy eyes somewhat similar to your own. I dragged it out from the kitchens. I told him he'd better hurry up with them, couldn't have anyone think I was slacking." He goaded.
Hermione stared at his face in absolute horror. He gave no indication of feeling the littlest bit sorry for what he had done. In fact he looked mighty proud of being clever enough to have thought of it.
"You're a lazy bastard, Malfoy. Do you even realize that what you did was completely counterproductive, not to mention utterly inhumane and callous?"
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I'm touched by your concern. Over creatures whose primary objective in life is to be useful to wizards no less, but I'm sure they'd have done the same for you if you'd asked them nicely. Most of them are unable detect the stench of filthy blood."
"You idiot! I'd finished them by myself and I know you knew it, so why in the hell did you make him go through it?"
He was momentarily thrown by the fact that she was defending the efforts of a single bloody elf in favour of her own but he didn't linger over the thought for long.
"Oh, stop being a compulsive bitch. You wanted the timetables and you got them well within time. Time for you to get off my case."
She was livid. She couldn't fathom how he expected her to simply overlook this and ignore the rotten way he had of getting things done. Simply so he could prove a point. As if those poor elves didn't have enough on their hands already.
"I'm going to report this to the headmaster. I'm not letting you get away with this."
She gave him one promising look and swept out of the office. She distantly heard him mimicking her voice.
He stepped into the Slytherin common room hoping to run into Blaise. He needed something to get his mind off the damn mudblood for a while as she seemed to have settled into it, violating his peace. He wasn't concerned about her threats as much as he resented the fact that she seemed to be always looking for ways to imply how unfit she thought he was for the job. 'Deal with it' she'd said. The little hypocrite was the one who couldn't deal with it.
As much as he hated the very ground she walked on, he couldn't let her prove herself to be right and lose his position beside her to some Ravenclaw loser. Besides, Severus Snape had warned him about this but at that time he'd been way too sure that Granger would chicken out. She always did whenever he was concerned, pretending to be above dealing with him like the high and mighty bitch she was. Anyhow, now that their positions were all good and settled all that remained now was to teach her a lesson.
And he had barely begun.
It was sometime around seven in the morning so didn't really expect his housemates to be up so early on a Sunday. But screw it, I'm the Head Boy.
He took the stairs down into the seventh year boy's dormitory, deactivated the standard wards that every Slytherin habitually put on their dwelling with a flick of his wand and stepped into the room.
It was dark, and no sign of the morning had pervaded this part of the castle so deep inside the dungeons. Being Slytherin, he was finely attuned with the darkness and made no move to banish it. He walked right up to the bed where he could make out Blaise's form and a slender arm belonging to a girl curved around his waist. Two days into school and he was back to his philandering ways. Momentarily envying his peaceful slumber, he kicked his bed hard uncaring of his brunette companion.
"What the-!" he started awake.
"Get up, Zabini." He addressed the girl who had sat up bolt upright and was currently blinking up at him. "Get out."
She gave Blaise a fleeting look but he was busy yawning theatrically. She scowled at him, but hurriedly proceeded to gather her clothes and left without a word. She was obviously not a Slytherin.
"Draco, mate is that you? Couldn't make out your face behind all the glare. That badge could literally blind someone."
He rolled his eyes good naturedly and sat down next to him.
"So what brings you to our lair?"
"Damn but I miss this lair." He stated as he surveyed their dorm. It was dark and gothic, furnished in black wood and appeared not the least bit cluttered. Curving serpents and dragons were carved onto the granite walls which moved in tide with the waves of the Black lake overhead. Every inch of it spoke of secret, forgotten tales and mysteries etched upon the walls. It also rung of familiarity.
Somewhere off to their right, Crabbe was snoring.
"Not really, though." He improvised. His own private dorm was grand and luxurious but nothing too different from his quarters back home.
"You pissed off my date."
"You're welcome."
Blaise scoffed, and then reached for his wand beneath his pillow. He flicked it once to light the green lamps.
"I needed to get away from that insane muggle bitch." After he'd relayed true version of the events of the past two days, he looked up to find Blaise trying hard to contain his laughter.
"To think you got so worked up over a bunch of schedules! At the end of the month you might just end up killing each other."
"Yeah, well. I don't really care provided I kill her first." He muttered, recalling the prissy way she'd called him a lazy bastard. The word was resourceful. He knew working smart held more class than working hard and he'd rather die than trade his Slytherin ways for those squeaky Hufflepuff ones.
"I would offer my sympathies but I'm sort of curious about how this thing might turn out. You could bring her down a notch or two and even get back at Potter in the process."
He smirked.
"Bit slow on the uptake, Zabini. I'm already working on that. But you're right. I'd never miss an opportunity if it means pissing off the Boy Wonder, especially now when his loony mentor seems to have deserted him."
"Old bugger." he said, bringing his voice down. "What about the Dark Lord?"
He looked at him sharply. "What about him?"
"I heard he's somewhere in Russia now trying to collaborate with giants and trolls. Creating this rainbow army with all kinds of outlandish creatures. Bit too much for a war against muggles, don't you think?"
He stared hard at his friend who seemed intent to wriggle out the knowledge about the Dark Lord he didn't have. He understood where he was coming from. Born to a mother who went through husbands with the same drive as someone who went through clothes, he had a deep seated desire to prove himself worthy to someone. More ambitious than any Slytherin he'd ever encountered, he suspected that Blaise wanted to join the Dark Lord somewhere along the line, unlike himself who'd had the responsibility thrust upon him. Although he'd never voiced it, Blaise was very much interested in everything pertaining to the Dark Lord these days and had somehow taken a dislike to Potter akin to his own.
He sighed.
"I don't know, Blaise. Mother wants me to join the Ministry." He said honestly.
He felt the bed rocking as he looked up to find him guffawing again.
"The Ministry! Oh, I'll be-", he snorted loudly, "You'd be about as useful there as a Blast-Ended Screwt in a band."
"Beats being a bedridden horndog anyday."
"Oh yeah? At least mine are willing."
"You're a sick freak, Zabini-"
They continued their jabbering till they'd woken up the rest the Slytherins in their dorm with their noise. They ended up playing several rounds of Exploding Snap and wizard's chess. Someone invited Pansy and the girls, and another snuck in several crates of butterbeer from the kitchens. One of the many upsides of living in the dungeons was that daylight never interfered with their fun. Draco stayed there and spent the large part of the day watching and enjoying the antics of his fellow housemates till he was almost positive that one Hermione Granger was about as far from his mind as she could possibly be.
review? please? :)