"How could you?" Hermione's voice rang through the empty corridor, biting through whatever peace Draco had managed to attain and snapping him out of his thoughts. He cast a sullen glance towards the sound; the small witch was marching toward him, the Daily prophet rolled up in one hand and brandished like a weapon. With a groan he pushed himself off the wall; getting her attention had been part of his little scheme now though he realised, he wasn't getting out of it unscathed.
"Ah Granger, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked, smirking as Hermione bristled.
"You know exactly why I'm here, you pompous git. How-could-you?" Draco winced as Hermione whacked him across the head, punctuating every word with tiny, but painful, exclamation marks.
"Am I supposed to know why you're beating me with press?" He asked coldly, lowering his arms when he was certain she had stopped attacking him.
"The Skeeter article? Harry Potter implicated in student attacks? Friends with werewolves and giants? Do anything for a bit of power?" Hermione paused, glaring at him, "Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Ah yes, that," Draco commented, glancing down at the paper still rolled up in her small hands. Draco cringed as his thoughts wandered the realms of how easily the Gryffindors hands would fit into his own. Shaking his head, he looked back up at Hermione, who was fuming to the point of smoke exiting her ears. "Well they weren't lies." He shrugged, wincing in regret when she started hitting him again.
"You manipulative, deceitful little prat."
"Granger stop, stop hitting me." He grabbed her wrist with one hand, wrenching the paper from her with the other. He opened it out with a flourish, giving the angry witch a pointed look, before turning away to inspect his handiwork. "I don't see what's got your hair in such a frizz," He shrugged, "a bit of publicity will be good for ole Scarface, get his name out there," He added sarcastically.
"You can't be that much of an idiot. You knew this would hurt him, would hurt me, and you went and did it anyway."
"Er, Slytherin." Hermione gave him an appraising look, scoffing and shaking her head.
"So, we're back to stereotypes, now? I thought that you Slytherins were all just misunderstood heroes, victims of a dusty old hat, forever condemned to the fate of being bullies, what changed your mind?"
Her sarcasm annoyed him. There weren't many occasions that he'd actually voiced some of the thoughts that rattled round in his head, but he'd made an exception, and now she was using it against him.
"Honestly Granger, you're overreacting."
"Really? How?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips, her foot tapping erratically against the stone floor.
"How what?"
"Stop being coy, you know exactly what I'm asking. How exactly am I over-reacting?" Something about her tone suggested that he was on very thin ice.
"Well, it's not like Potty have ever got on," he lifted the Daily Prophet, to once again peruse the article he'd practically given Skeeter, gift-wrapped with well wishes, "what's a bit of banter amongst long-term enemies. It's to be expected really."
Hermione hurled herself at the boy, curling her hands into fists and reigning down blow after blow, with as much force as she could muster. Draco reeled back in shock, chucking the paper to one side and lifting his arms up to protect himself from the oncoming attack. With great difficulty, he managed to capture her wrists again, holding on to them tightly as Hermione struggled.
"Will. You. Stop." The words were hissed through gritted teeth as he tried to ignore how his skin warmed at the connection, the tell-tale spark of the Sensieve's magic dancing up his arms. Hermione pushed and pulled, trying desperately to get out of his grip, her eyes the darkest shade of brown he'd ever seen them, her mouth set in a hard line.
"Let - me - go – Malfoy," Her words punctuated by her attempts to wrench herself free.
"No can do, Granger, you're being hysterical."
"Hysterical? You spread foul lies about my best friend, my reaction is more than justified," she spat, all the while lessening her attempts to break free. She was acutely aware of the Sensieve's magic growing in the air making it difficult to concentrate. "You knew how I felt about that Skeeter woman, you knew how much I despised her, and you - you tattled to her."
"Tattled? Is that what we're calling it?" Draco snorted with derision, "Anyway, what makes you think that this had anything to do with you?"
"Don't even pretend like you didn't know how much this would hurt me." Hermione narrowed her eyes and Draco quickly dropped her wrists, turning and sauntering away so she wouldn't see how much her words affected him.
"Can't say that you were really on my mind, to be honest with you, Granger."
"I don't think you know how to be honest. Will you stop."
"Or what, Granger? You going to hex me?"
"Don't tempt me."
Draco glared at two second-year Slytherins who'd been secreted away in an alcove and were now peering at them curiously. Quickly they made their retreat with Draco's curses hot on their heels when their presence had served as just the distraction Hermione needed to catch up and stomp in front of him.
"I don't even care whether I figure into all of this, what I care about is Harry, and this is the last thing he needs.".
"You think I care what Super Specs needs?"
"Do you care about anything?"
"Not particularly."
"Perhaps you should," Hermione said, pursing her lips to hide how hurt she was that he didn't seem to care about her, unsure why she even expected him to "this isn't a game Malfoy, this is more than just some petty classroom rivalry, it's - this is real life, actual problems, actual dangers. Harry could - he could die." Hermione's voice shook more than she'd wanted it to.
"And what a downright shame that would be," Draco drawled, and Hermione hit him again, "Ow. Look either way it's his own fault he's in this mess. Eternal glory was obviously too much of a heroic hard-on, for him to pass up."
"Harry didn't put his name in the -"
"Like he'd tell his goody-two-shoes-best friend that he cheated. Hate to break it you Granger, but good ole Potty is your average everyday attention whore."
"Someone is trying to kill him; doesn't that mean anything to you?" Draco paused, glancing over his shoulder in a bored manner.
"Should it?" His raised an eyebrow as Hermione opened and closed her mouth in surprise.
"You are unbelievable."
"I am a Malfoy," He pointed out smugly.
"Why can't you be a Malfoy somewhere else?" The comment hurt - a nice stabbing pain in his chest.
"And miss out on these thrilling conversations?" He bit out sarcastically watching as Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You know, it never ceases to amaze me how much of a dick you can be. Just when I think you've reached dickish heights you go ahead and surprise me."
"It's my pleasure," Draco cut in. Hermione barely even acknowledged him, continuing with her rant.
"If you tried, I'm sure you and Harry could get on, maybe even be friends, but you don't want to, because, Merlin forbid you should try to be nice."
"It works both ways. Shit face doesn't make the effort so why should I?"
"This - this is exactly what I'm talking about, what is wrong with you?" Hermione stepped forward poking Malfoys chest
"There's nothing wrong with me, Granger, I just happen to be one of the few people who isn't completely deluded by Potty and his over-inflated ego. How the fuck does someone fail so spectacularly in class, but get branded a great wizard, just because he's so dense that the killing curse, quite literally, bent around him."
Hermione hadn't realised she'd slapped him till she felt the sting of it in her fingers and saw the red welt rising in Draco's cheek. He looked astounded, more astounded than when she'd punched him the year before. He wanted to hex her into oblivion, hold her, hit her, kiss her till she ran out of breath and couldn't scream at him anymore. He thoughts jumbled around in his head making him want to run away.
"You might not care about people Malfoy, but I do. I care about Harry, and I won't let you or anyone else hurt him." Draco grit his teeth. Potter this, Potter that, without fail it always came back to Scarface.
"Stands to reason that a forlorn, lonely little Mudblood would follow around magics favourite, hoping some of the adoration will rub off?" Draco spat, pouring all his hurt and hate into every word till it felt like he was spitting venom. Hermione turned on her heel, hiding the tears pooling in her eyes. "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you, bucktooth," He shouted, rushing after her.
"Why?" Hermione, whipped around to face him, making him stumble, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. She noticed the look of confusion that flickered across the blonde's features before getting lost in the malice.
'What?' Hermione thought his sneer was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.
"Why do you always do this?" Draco said nothing, trying his best not to falter, even though, for once, an apology was on the tip of his tongue. "Your pathetic narrow-minded views are questioned, and you revert back to being an arsehole."
"Watch it, Granger," He ground out.
"Why? Touch a nerve, did I? You going to tell your Daddy how nasty I have been to you?"
"You have no right to talk about my father," Draco spat, his hands balling into fists; she'd hit him twice, wounded his pride more times than he could count, and she had the infernal habit of always being so snootily in the right. He wanted to wipe the smirk off her pretty face.
Hermione's eyes widened suddenly, her breath catching as the walls of the corridor began to melt away, replaced with moving pictures. The green pillars glimmered into focus and rain began to fall from the ceiling, huge warm drops that began to soak through her uniform. Hermione glanced at Draco when she heard him groan. She smiled slightly as the Sensieve rose out of the floor, it had been so long since it had made an appearance, and Hermione had desperately wanted to find out what had happened to Sonyea. Sighing slightly, she relaxed as the Sensieve's magic grew in the air and allowed it to pull her into its depths.