"No"
"Please?"
"No"
"Please?"
"NO, Goddammit, get out of my house!", Hermione threw a rainboot at the door. It rebounded and lightly smacked her nose, "Ow"
"What happened?", his voice sounded concerned. Hermione whistled. She heard the satisfying sound of Draco being dragged away by his arms.
"Ferret!", she yelled to him for good measure. The picture of the kiss bombarded her mind again. Hermione curled up and clutched her head. That's all it was now, a picture. She hadn't seen a human for days, so the picture always seemed disfigured and disporportionate.
In fact, it was a million pictures. Even though she wasn't that good at drawing, or anything artistic for that matter, the same day the kiss took place, in an attempt to get it out of her mind, she went and bought a million art supplies. And here, she set up her studio.
There was black and white, colour, A4 paper and stretched canvas, Charcoal and paint. She even managed a collage. Each one of them was a picture of the kiss.
However, Hermione was proud of herself. The pictures were better than Dean Thomas had ever done, but perhaps because it was so permanent in her mind. She was almost on the verge of accepting it. Astoria and Draco. Draco and Astoria. Drastoria.
She giggled and said it aloud. "Drastoria", it was like a mix of Drastic and plethora, and for some weird reason, it also sounded like something you'd say during the Apacolypse. Drastoria.
A knock on the door interrupted her picking out a name for her new dictionary. "Hermione", Harry's voice was concerned, "Are you okay in there?"
"DRASTORIA!", she yelled back. Her face dropped. Drastoria. Draco and Astoria. Drastic Plethora. Apacolypse. Drastoria couldn't happen.
Hermione dooned her coat and threw some flew powder in the fireplace, "Malfoy Manor!"