A/N: Hermione is not as sweet as one might think...
The only thing that ensured Hermione's sanity around the Head Boy was the knowledge that she was planning to exact revenge. She was biding her time, scheming, calculating her moves. Malfoy would not know what had hit him, and it would be a gradual process until she broke him, just as she knew he had planned for her. First things first, she would have to get to know her enemy. Perhaps play him from the inside. 'Yes,' she thought, a look into his real persona to determine his vulnerabilities, his insecurities, although she doubted he had any, his deepest darkest secrets.
She had woken up early to begin her exercises. First things first, some redecorating was in order. Entering the common room, wand in hand, she transfigured the notorious couch into several pink bean bags. The other, she altered its colour from deep-moss leather to a bright red. The black carpet was instantly transformed into a deep magenta with blue stars floating about, and the mahogany finish of the bookshelves was replaced with a bright orange veneer. It really was the perfect eyesore. The clash of colour generated an almost hallucinogenic perceptive response – and the beauty of it was, it could not be undone, thanks to Advanced Magic Volume V.
The fact that no professor would recognise the change should Malfoy seek retribution by complaining to the higher authorities only added to her pleasure, as she had conditioned the transformations so that only people under a certain age would be privy to her creativeness. She chuckled out loud, almost vindictively. Despite the horror before her, Hermione would take comfort sitting here knowing it was her doing, and besides, she always had her library to escape to. Phase one was in action. She happily headed to breakfast, anticipating the reaction.
"So, what puts you in a good mood today? Surely not potions?" Ron quizzed as Hermione sat eating her toast with a sly grin plastered on her face.
"I just mastered some new spells," she offered vaguely. Ron just rolled his eyes, unbelieving that some new spell could create such exhilaration in his friend's demeanour.
"Anything worth teaching me?" he asked between mouthfuls.
"She turned her attention to him, smiling eagerly, "You bet." She continued to munch on her toast as the Great Hall doors swung open, presenting a seething Malfoy who was quickly approaching her table.
"Granger! What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" he gritted through his teeth, loud enough for her ears only as he had leaned over her, his arms on either side of the table, locking her in place.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she remarked inscrutably. "You're in my space Malfoy, you shouldn't get too close to a mudblood, it might be detrimental to your health," she continued with such definitive indifference, she could feel his eyes burning a hole through her head as she munched on her toast. Her insides were screaming with delight and they were beginning to draw attention to themselves.
"Get lost Malfoy," Ron demanded.
"Weasley this is between Granger and I, fuck off," he glared at him with pure loathing, his hands still on either side of her. She was becoming rather tired of his dominating stance. "A word Granger. Outside. Now!" he commanded sharply. She merely shook her head.
"Actually Malfoy, I am rather busy at the moment, perhaps you can put it in writing and send it care of Head Girl, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts?" she retorted, jabbing her wand in his side. He flinched in surprise at her quick withdrawal.
"Granger, you have just started something you can't win," he whispered acerbically, the echo of his voice reverberating down her neck as he withdrew. She shivered involuntarily before shrugging her shoulders, so he could visibly register her willingness to play the game. He stormed off agitated; she frowned at the recollection of his threat.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you've outdone yourself. Malfoy looked really pissed," Ron congratulated, lifting the mood once again. She smiled at him in acknowledgment.
"Let's just say its time to fight fire with fire."
Throughout the day, Malfoy and his goons taunted Hermione to the point where she could not even stay focused or answer questions in class. In charms, while Professor Flitwick babbled on with his back turned to the class, she was fighting off disillusioned origami that continuously caught in her hair – she would need to find a bubble protection charm for the next class. In potions, Blaise was extremely uncooperative to the point where Snape threw them out of the classroom for bickering and afterward had given detention only to Hermione for not setting an example as Head Girl. In the hallways, she was nearly tripped three times, the fourth was successful, and she fell on her backside, parchment landing everywhere which would take her hours to could not even deduct house-points as she didn't see exactly who the perpetrators were.
At dinner, every time she took a mouthful of food it turned to dust in her mouth: she looked over to see Draco smirking triumphantly at her. In retaliation, she went and sat next to Dean, asking him to share his pudding with him. He, along with the rest of the Gryffindor table, was gob smacked at Hermione's sudden flirtatious behaviour, as Dean fed her mouthfuls of pudding and she giggled, partly at the ridiculousness of her actions, at the fact that Dean was enjoying the attention, and mostly, because Malfoy's look of disgust was priceless.
Despite everything, Hermione was seething at the fact that Malfoy had involved his friends in their battle. This caused for some serious action. She did not want to directly attack them since that would just give them a reason to fight. She needed to clear this up with Malfoy, and it would be tonight.
"Hey Padma!" She called out, trying to catch up with the Ravenclaw.
"Oh, hey Hermione, what's up?"
"I'm relieving you from patrols tonight."
"Oh, really?" She seemed disappointed. Hermione knew exactly why. Malfoy was the reason. She rolled her eyes in disbelief at how much attention Malfoy received from the opposite sex, and not just the silly ones.
"Yeah, I know how much you are committed to your prefect duties, that's really great, but I can't do tomorrow night due to a meeting with Professor McGonagall so I need you to fill in then. I just thought I should do you a favour by relieving you tonight."
"I guess." She shrugged her shoulders, although her disheartened expression did not go unnoticed by Hermione. She just ignored it.
"Great, thanks Padma. I'll make it up to you!" She flashed her diplomatic smile and walked away, disgusted by Padma's obsession with being around Malfoy.
Hermione sat reclined on a bean bag, enjoying the new found comfort without the cringe factor of the old couch, skimming through a book. She was waiting for Malfoy to return from quidditch practice to surprise him with her news. This was the first time they would ever be patrolling together, and after last night's display, she was a little worried about his reactions. Despite her new found confidence, driven from her agenda to fight back, she was hesitant about roaming the halls with her worst nightmare.
His footsteps entering the common room broke her thoughts. She looked up at him and gave her best smile of defiance, reclining further into the beanbag to make a point. He glared at her, before walking straight to his room and slamming the door. Now that was a first, Malfoy slamming his door. She chuckled, tracing her wand over the moving stars of the carpet. There was so much more pleasure to be gained from retaliating rather than ignoring the prat all this time.
He emerged looking ridiculously refreshed, and was heading toward the entry without even glancing at her to start patrols.
"Oh, I thought you should know that I will be patrolling with you tonight?" she remarked standing and walking toward him. He spun around on his heel to face her, a look of pure contempt on his face.
"What the fuck are you talking about? We never patrol together. That is one thing we could actually agree on!" he snapped, his eyes boring into hers.
"Well, Padma couldn't patrol tonight so I was the only fallback. Guess we just have to suck it up and get on with it. Unless… maybe you're just not cut out for this Head Boy stuff?" She tilted her head sarcastically.
"Do not talk to me, do not look at me, and do not stand less than two feet away from me? Is that clear?" he demanded, his voice filled with anger at her throwback references, and she could tell he was annoyed that he would not be spending quality time with Padma. She smiled, which only aggravated him further. He turned and stormed out of the room.
The silence was deafening, to the point where Hermione thought she could hear the portrait figures breathing. Of course, it was her mind playing tricks on her as she walked alongside Malfoy, keeping her two foot distance, for her own sanity as well as avoiding any interaction. They were onto the fourth floor, the one which contained here secret hideaway. For a moment she panicked that Malfoy would notice the distinct door, like she had, as they approached the corner to turn down the hallway of its locale. She hesitated, Malfoy noticed. He turned to look at her, the first time that evening.
"Granger, where is that Gryffindor spirit that you freaks always seem to refer to?" he remarked snidely.
"Don't know what you're talking about," she retorted absently. They turned the corner; she hesitated once more as the door came into her view.
"What the hell is your problem?" he fumed.
"Nothing!" she spat in defiance, looking away from the door in hope that he wouldn't follow her gaze. They passed the classroom preceding the room, as the marauder's map had shown. Malfoy opened the door to check if anyone was inside. He chuckled, perhaps at a private joke or something. Hermione frowned.
"What are you doing?" she asked. He hadn't opened other classroom doors. Why this one?
"Remember rule number one? Don't talk to me!" he barked, his tone patronising.
"You are such a child," she resigned, sighing. He glared at her insult as he shut the door. Her door was fast approaching next. She picked up her pace, glancing at the doorway and then quickly looking down. Malfoy was frustrated by her erratic behaviour.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She didn't respond. She was just passing the door when he stopped. She turned to look at him, nervously keeping an eye on the brass handle of her library through her peripheral view.
"Why are you stopping?"she stammered. "We still have two more floors to patrol." He was regarding her with narrowed eyes. She couldn't help but shoot quick glances towards her door. 'Stupid!' she scolded herself. Malfoy turned to follow her gaze, picking up on her fleeting eyes.
"Granger, why the fuck do you keep staring at the same spot on the wall?" he demanded.
"I thought you told me not to speak!" she snapped, avoiding the subject.
"Whatever," he shoved past her, clearly breaking the two foot rule as his shoulder bumped hers purposely. She was almost winded from the impact, her breath caught from the force.
"Bastard," she whispered under her breath. She caught up to him, thankful that her secret was safe. The door had not revealed itself to Malfoy. She sighed in relief.
They reached the common room shortly after, the rest of the patrol passed in the same deafening silence. As they entered the room he turned to her after scoffing at the state of the space.
"I demand you return the common room to its former state!" he ordered.
"I can't see that happening, I'm afraid."
"Granger!" he growled.
"Malfoy!" she yelled back. "You better stop getting your entourage to do your dirty work!"
"You're the Head Girl, Granger. Deal with it!"
"Well then, you deal with the lovely colour scheme."
"Just because you can't get any, does not mean that you can spoil my use of the common room."
"This is not about getting any, Malfoy, I rather like the new look. It's what you call, chirpy," she retorted, ending on a high note. "And, if you get up to anything inappropriate in the common room where I have to sit, I will personally make sure that you never patrol with anyone other then me! I will torment you."
"Is that a threat Granger?" He closed in on her, he was a good head taller than Hermione and she could feel him overshadow her but her rage was too volatile to be retracted.
"Yes, Malfoy, consider that it is?"
"Well, I think patrolling is a small price to pay for watching you squirm with anxiety over the possible events that have taken place on that lolly red couch, or those pink beanbags," he spat in distaste.
"How far you want to push this is up to you Malfoy. So, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Granger, you scare me about this much," he scoffed, holding his forefinger and thumb only millimetres apart in her face before smirking, leaning in closer to intimidate her.
"Get out of my way Malfoy, you are a such a jerk!" She shoved his hand out of her face, and started towards her room. He grabbed her arm unexpectedly, gripping it securely.
"Do not. Touch me. Again," he uttered through gritted teeth, as if he were restraining himself. Hermione yanked her arm from his grasp with vigour, scowling at him.
"Likewise," she spat and slammed her door. She was glad the castle walls were two feet thick or else the Head quarters would surely have rattled the foundations from all the heated door slamming.
A/N: Don't you just love Hermione? :p