Chapter 15: Bitchslap

Remember, when someone annoys you, it takes 42 muscles to frown but it only takes 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitch-slap the mother f*cker in the head. - Anonymous


Hermione's eyes flickered to Harry's, which were fixed resolutely on his plate of succulent chicken breast that Ron had cooked that particular evening.

It was a fortnightly ritual of theirs, and they rotated between Harry and Ginny's flat and Ron's, as Hermione's former studio was too small. But it was always Ron who cooked, often with leftovers from his restaurant.

It had been an exceedingly long day for the quartet. Three weeks had come and gone since her best friends lured Hermione from her teary stupor with a tub of Ben and Jerry's, and after two further helpings of Ron's banoffee pie, she resolved to pull herself together.

She managed to secure a loan from a Muggle bank and rented a new flat in Wandsworth Town as a new workspace. It was not only a quirky part of town, but with a growing wizarding community, a brand new Floo network had been built in the area. This was particularly helpful as Hermione had acquired two new clients, both friends of Pansy. And of course, another one was about to come on board.

Harry suddenly looked up and met her gaze with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was nervous, the poor dear. To be fair, Hermione was too.

And don't even mention Ron. He was currently ploughing aggressively through his potato mash, a telltale sign that his mind was somewhere else.

Swallowing a bite of her veggie lasagne, Hermione looked up and nearly choked when she realised that Ginny was staring at her most suspiciously.

"What?" murmured Hermione innocently, tidying up her peas.

"Something is going on," declared Ginny, biting her fork. "All three of you are as quiet as mice. What is it?"

Hermione shook her head adamantly. "Nothing! This lasagne is just... really good..." she trailed off, looking at Ron pleadingly for help.

Oh bugger. The redhead, bless his soul, had actually started tearing up.

The uncomfortable silence lingered for a minute before Ron cleared his throat, and said scratchily, "There... was a spider in my cereal this morning. A big one. I had to, uh, kill it... With my spoon."

It started with a snort from Harry, then a cough from Hermione who tried to cover up her giggles, then the whole table burst out laughing.

When the guffaws finally died down, Ginny bit her lips and grinned. "Alright, seriously, what's up? You know I hate being left out of the know."

The Golden Trio traded glances, and Hermione smiled at Harry encouragingly as she nodded her head.

Harry reached over and closed his hand over his girlfriend's with a smile. "Close your eyes for a minute, Ginny."

She crinkled her brow in confusion, frowning at Ron who had started sniffling again. Hermione handed him a tissue and her lips curved into a fond smile.

"Should I be worried?" asked Ginny as she watched her big brother blow his nose. "The last time I saw Ron cry was when Percy propos-"

Ginny stopped suddenly as the comprehension dawned on her, and one hand came up to cover her mouth as it hung open in surprise.

The lights went out for a second, and then floating candles and rose petals were everywhere. Hermione didn't even notice the melted wax drip onto her unfinished dinner, or gold glitter settling on her tear-streaked face. She grabbed Ron's hand and squeezed it reassuringly, just as Harry got down on one knee.


"Draco, what do you think? I'm quite adamant that eggshell looks better than warm beige."

Draco snapped back rather irritably, "Do I look like a give a shit, Parkinson?"

"Hey!" Blaise barked and slapped the back of his million-dollar head as he came back into the living room with a glass of port. "Don't speak to my future wife like that, Malfoy."

"Or you'll do what? Push me off the sofa?" he grumbled back, shaking out the newspaper in front of him.

Pansy huffed and rolled her eyes. "What's gotten your knickers into such a twist, darling?"

Blaise peered over his best friend's shoulder and despite the latter's attempt to quickly turn the page, the damned paper crinkled rudely and refused to cooperate. With a chuckle, Blaise drawled. "Well, looks like our boy here may have a serious case of green envy. Did you know Hermione is going out with Krum, honey?"

"Oh yes, they've been back together for two weeks now, didn't you read Witch Weekly yesterday? They were photographed shopping for vintage furniture in Portobello Market," replied Pansy, holding up two ribbon samples and eyed them critically. "Tiffany blue or robin egg blue, honey?"

"What are they for?"

"The ribbons for the centrepieces. I picked these wonderful glass vases from an antique store in Paris, they'll look simply lovely with red roses and one of these ribbons."

"Are you talking about that antique store near the Bastille Market?"

"No, Blaise, the one by Notre Dame. Now, Tiffany blue or robin egg blue?"

"But I thought we decided to get the vases from the antique dealer near the Bastille-"

"We never decided anything together about the vases, you didn't even look at-"

"Pansy, that is unfair-"

"I sent your secretary an entire album on vases-"

With a shrill burst the glass of port in Blaise's hand shattered, along with two of the light bulbs in the Art Nouveau chandelier that hung low over the now silent living room.

The Zabini's stared mutely as Draco stomped towards the fireplace, practically humming with an angry energy. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, he thundered, "HERMIONE SODDING GRANGER'S FLAT", and disappeared into the green flames.

When the fire died down, Blaise blinked and looked down at his bleeding hand. "I might need a bandaid, honey."

A huge hiccup racked Hermione's more than slightly intoxicated frame.

Padding around her new bedroom, she shrugged on an oversized woolly sweater and flipped her wet hair out of the back of the collar. She almost fell over as she put on her knickers, but she caught herself before she made contact with the floor. With a wink at herself in the mirror, she silently congratulated herself for her excellent reflexes.

"Now, where are those tracky bums?" she asked herself chirpily, hands on hips. "Must have left them out in the living room."

Wiggling her feet into her fluffy polar bear slippers, complete with felt claws, she shuffled out of the bedroom, realising belatedly as the door swung shut that she didn't remember where the living room light switch was.

Stranded in the middle of nowhere, Hermione huffed and grappled blindly in the dark, searching for a wall. She yelped as she walked into something that felt like a stick, poking her in the stomach.

Ahh, must be the frying pan, she thought as she reached out to grip the handle. It felt heavy. She must have forgotten to clean up the remnants of her fry-up this morning...

"I hope you're not wearing knickers underneath, Granger."

With a bloodcurdling scream, Hermione swung the frying pan as hard as she could towards the source of the voice.

Some time between her swing and the almighty impact, the lights came on and Hermione was suddenly staring down at a really pissed off Draco Malfoy, howling in pain.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you Granger?" he barked at her, one hand on his face which was dripping with blood.

Blood. Dripping down his face.

A panicked sweat broke out on her forehead and Hermione began shrieking hysterically, falling onto her knees and letting the frying pan go with a loud clatter. "Oh my God I BROKE YOUR FACE! You're bleeding, Draco, bleeding! Does it hurt? I'm so, so sorry-"

"Granger-"

"I just moved in, I don't know where the bandages are, oh Merlin what do I do-"

"Granger-"

"Maybe you should lie down? Yes, you should lie down. Oh God you must be losing so much blood-"

Hermione stopped abruptly when Malfoy grabbed hold of her wrists and shook her hard, so hard that she saw stars. "Granger. Shut up. It's just baked beans."

She blinked the stars away and squinted. Little morsels of Heinz baked beans were sliding down the side of Draco Malfoy's face. She had to bite her lips hard to hold in that traitorous giggle bubbling up her throat.

An "oops" was all Hermione managed to squeak awkwardly.

Malfoy arched an eyebrow and almost half-smiled at her. "My, my, are you drunk again, Granger?"

Hermione grinned triumphantly. "I drank a whole bottle of champagne. All by myself."

"I've seen you in this state one too many times, Granger," replied Malfoy, his tone almost amused.

"Well, I guess you just have impeccable timing," she shrugged, grabbing a rag off the oven handle and shuffling closer to Malfoy. Hermione grabbed his chin with one hand and started scrubbing away.

He grimaced as she strayed a bit too close to his eye, and asked, "So, what's the occasion this time?"

"Harry and Ginny got engaged!" she answered, throwing her arms up in celebration. Draco had to dodge a couple of flying beans. "It was so beautiful, there were candles and roses and ice cream and -"

Draco stared at her quizzically when she trailed off. He really should have seen it coming. That little telltale twitch of her left eye. He had, after all, witnessed the drunken wrath of Granger one too many times.

With impressive agility considering her lack of sobriety, she sprang up and scrambled backwards, pressing her back against the sink, teeth baring as she yelled, "WHAT in the name of MERLIN are you doing in my flat?"

Draco hesitated. He realised belatedly that he did not have an action plan. Flooing to Granger's flat had definitely been an impulsive act, brought on by the inane chattering of centerpieces and beiges and robin egg blues. Damned the Zabini's.

"WELL?" bellowed Granger when he didn't answer. "Fine, don't answer me. Ugh, I need to sober up."

Draco stared as the she swiveled around, then literally bent over and dunked her head under the faucet, noisily slurping in the running water.

And from where he was sitting, Granger was unmistakenly wearing green, lacy knickers.

A sharp hiccup from her jerked Draco from his trance. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he drawled, "Remind me to introduce you to someone, Granger."

She turned off the water and wiped her mouth with a sleeve. "Who?"

"Brita water filters."

Granger grinned rather unexpectedly. "Draco Malfoy uses Brita water filters?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh Merlin not the Muggle thing again, shut up-"

Placing a dramatic hand on her chest, Granger cooed in a high, girly pitch, "Oooh, I'm Draco Malfoy, I'm so pureblooded I'm allergic to anything other than pure, filtered water-"

"Granger!" Draco barked, grabbing a fistful of his hair in exasperation. "It's not about allergies you bint. There's chlorine in tap water, it's like drinking water from a swimming pool, how does that make any sense? Would you drink pool water?"

Undaunted, Granger rambled on. "I'm Draco Malfoy! I'm so bloody rich I only shower with fizzy Perrier air freighted from the Alps because my fine arse is too high class for plain water-"

"That is ridiculous!" he yelled back, jumping onto his feet. "Who would have Perrier showers? How is that even possible?"

Granger shot back without skipping a beat. "Why don't you hire a butler whose only job is to fill your water tank with Perrier day in day out?"

"Don't be stupid, Granger-"

"Oh hey! Here's an idea! Why don't you build an underground waterpipe system that connects your water tank directly to the Perrier distillation plant?"

"That's it! Stop talking woman!" shouted Draco, fisting his hands at his side before he did something he regretted. Like flicking her hard on the forehead.

Glaring at him, Granger snapped, "Fine! I'll stop talking..." Turning around, she opened a cupboard and pulled out a ridiculous Mickey Mouse mug, and filled it with tap water. Then she held it out to him and said, "When you drink this."

"I'm not drinking unfiltered tap water from that ugly mug!"

"Drink it!"

Draco rolled his eyes at her in the most patronising manner possible. "Why? What bloody point does it prove?"

"That you're not a pansy," smirked Granger.

"Just because I have enough common sense to not poison myself with tap water doesn't mean I'm a pansy!"

"Just do it," she commanded, thrusting the mug in his face.

"No."

"Do it! Drinkitdrinkitdrinkit-"

"Alright, alright, I'll do it," he said, took the mug, turned around and proceeded to throw it into the closest wall - which shattered into what looked like millions of black, red and white shards of porcelain.

A deadly silence descended onto the tiny kitchen. Draco didn't realise he was breathing hard with frustration until then... or the fact that Granger was wearing polar bear slippers.

"Come back to me," he blurted out when he couldn't handle the silence anymore.

Granger's eyes snapped up to his at that, thoroughly confused. "What?"

"Come back as my designer," he clarified.

"Come back?" echoed Granger quietly, falling back against the kitchen counter, but he couldn't quite figure out if it was from relief or disbelief. "You want me to come back to you as your designer?"

Draco nodded, not trusting the sudden calm that had befallen Granger. He tried to be as subtle as possible as he looked for the twitch in her left eye, which was hard to do as she had both her eyes close, as if in mediation.

He felt his own eye twitch nervously.

When Granger spoke, each word came out slowly through clenched teeth. "You must be fucking kidding me."

Draco faltered. He knew Granger wouldn't crack easily. He expected some more irrational screaming, but he certainly didn't expect this quiet rage from her.

"I'm not kidding," he replied. Steeling his resolve, he forced himself to speak the truth. "I can't find anyone else Granger, there's no one else. You're the only one for the job."

It really was the worst time, but suddenly Draco was noticing the little mundane things about Granger. Like how she had freckles on her cheekbones, but more on the right one than the left. And how she had really nice legs, especially now that the hemline of the sweater was moving up as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest...

Before he could stop it, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "I know it's not high summer or anything, but still, could do with a shave, Granger."

Triumph felt more like hollowness this time as Draco watched her face flush bright red. Nonetheless, Granger's hostile gaze was pinned right on him.

"You humiliate me," she began somewhat shakily, as if struggling to keep her anger in check. "You mock me. You don't respect me. You don't care about fashion. You told the entire world that your slut bunny ex-girlfriend designed my collection-"

"It's your fault Granger! You ran off! What was I supposed to-"

"Don't interrupt me," she hissed.

Draco kept his mouth shut. Somewhere in his head he knew that a line had been crossed.

"There's no way I'm coming back, Mr Malfoy," she spat and pushed past him.

Something in him snapped. No one dismissed him, least of all Hermione holier-than-thou Granger. He forced a nonchalant shrug. "Fine. You don't get paid then."

Stopping in her tracks, she spun around and growled, "What?"

Draco smirked coldly. "You're pulling out of the contract, so I'm retracting my promises. The penalty is your salary and the repayment of your debt to the bank."

Granger responded with a curl of her lips as frosty as his. "Sure, go on, make threats. That's all you're good for anyway."

Taking three calculated steps towards her, he carefully slid a finger under her chin and tilted her face up, before whispering slowly, "I am going to destroy you, Granger."

"You go ahead and do that, Malfoy," she replied with a serene smile. "See if I'm scared."

"You really should be," he said, mirroring hers with a tight-lipped smile. "I should go, it's getting late."

"Wait a minute, Malfoy," she stopped him with a hand on his arm, reaching towards his face. "You just got a little something on your face-"

Unfortunately, Draco spotted that eye twitch a second too late.

He was not sure if he was imagining it or if Granger actually shouted KAPOW. But between the incredibly painful smart on his left cheek and the sting of what felt like tears in his eyes, one thing was indisputable - it was the bitchslap of the century.


A/N: This chapter has been so much fun to write, especially that fight scene, which is inspired by Jess and Nick's epic fights in New Girl (if you don't watch that show, go and watch it now!). Thank you my lovely reviewers for your responses to the last chapter, I know Draco is being an absolute prat but he will have his atonement at some point. I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter!