Chapter 10 : Revenge, I say!
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A/N: Umm… so what it sounds like is that most of you don’t care if I stop this story or not, just as long as I start another one to replace it. I haven’t really made a decision yet, so I guess I’ll just try to keep updating until I know for sure what I want to do, or until I have a few chapters of the new story written. Whichever comes first. So whilst I swing around in limbo, unsure as to what to do about my stories, you readers can feast on this somewhat short, but somewhat comical, chapter 10. Au Revior mon amies.
ZZZZZZZZZZZ… pink ponies… ZZZZZZZZZZZ… I’m a pretty, pretty princess…ZZZZZZZZZZZ…no, not the cauldron cakes! ... ZZZZZZZZZZZ…
“That was a big mistake you made Granger,” said a deep, husky voice.
“I don’t wanna be a mouse…” ZZZZZZZZZZZ…
“What in the bloody hell are you going on about, Granger?”
“But I don’t like cheese…” ZZZZZZZZZ…
“Granger! Wake up, you dolt!”
Hermione’s eyes snapped open as she tried to sit up, startled, but was even more so when she realized she couldn’t move. She found herself staring into the cold and currently angry eyes of Malfoy. She took a minute to take in her surroundings.
My room; check. My bed; check. My clothes… She wiggled around a little bit beneath the weight of Malfoy’s body that covered her petite body. She could feel the soft cotton fabric of her bedclothes brush against her delicate skin. Check! Now why is Malfoy on top of me?
“That was probably the stupidest thing you have ever done in your entire life, Granger. Well, aside from becoming friends with Scarhead and his wannabe side-kick.”
“Malfoy, pardon my frankness will you, but what in the hell are you doing in my room at bloody two o’clock in the morning?” Hermione asked groggily, not happy at all to be awoken at that ungodly hour, much less by a very disgruntled Slytherin. “And why are you on top of me? Get off, you poncy wanker.”
Malfoy sneered and let out something that sounded like an angry growl that a werewolf would give.
“If I were you, Hermione, I would be very, very careful around me right now,” he said dangerously. “Do you know where I have been for the last seven hours? Hmm? Do you? Well let me tell you. I was petrified in the girls’ loo, naked as the day I was born, getting my dignity-- and not to mention my reputation-- ripped to shreds as wave after wave of giggly girls came in to gawk at me. And do you know what they had with them Granger? Do you?”
Hermione fought hard to restrain herself from laughing hysterically in his face at what he seemed to think was a very serious matter. She shook her head, shutting her mouth closed to resist any temptation to break out into ferocious amount of giggling.
“They. Had. Cameras.” His face came closer and closer to hers with each word. That was too much for Hermione, and she let her laughter ring out freely, to Malfoy’s great displeasure.
Cameras? I want copies!
“Well Malfoy, congratulations. You now know what it feels like to be the butt of everyone’s jokes. Literally.” Hermione laughed at her own joke, highly amused with herself. He let her laughter die back down to a content sigh before he cleared his throat rudely.
She continued in euphoric glee, “Oh yeah; you’re still here. Right. Well as fun as listening to your empty threats has been, I really must be getting back to sleep now; I have a Transfiguration exam tomorrow. Goodnight.” She gave him a quick kiss on the mouth before snuggling further into the covers and closing her eyes.
“Oh no you don’t! Granger, you don’t get it; I want vengeance! Revenge, I say! I want to get you back for- Granger! Stop sleeping! My threats are not empt--! Grang-” Frustrated that she couldn’t even get peace in her own room, Hermione raised her head and grabbed his lower neck, crushing his lips with hers and finally shutting him up.
Well it isn’t sleep, but at least its quiet.
Temporarily forgetting his anger, Malfoy pushed Hermione deep into the mattress, his body weighing on hers, her head being driven into the pillow by his passionate kiss. Not a second later, their mouths were open and tongues were tangling feverishly. The blankets and sheets that had kept Hermione hidden were being shoved down and fell in a tousled heap at the foot of the bed. Rolling herself on top of him, Hermione straddled his hips, her hands placed on his now clothed chest.
Malfoy smirked as he pulled her back down onto her back, “Oh no you don’t. The last time I let you be dominant I ended up petrified in front of a toilet with no clothes.” He shrugged and added with a voluptuously sexy grin, “Not that I would mind you riding me, of course.”
Hermione scoffed and replied wittily, “You wish Malfoy. You know, it was that same attitude that got you into trouble last time. If I were you, I would learn to control that asinine libido of yours.”
He moved slightly south to her neck, and said between delicate kisses, “Hermione darling...” kiss “You wouldn’t--” kiss “--have any idea--” kiss “--as to why I saw--” kiss “--Millicent Bullstrode--” kiss “--sniffing my boxers earlier, would you?” he asked innocently, finishing his addicting little kisses.
“Of course not, sweetheart,” she replied, matching his tone. The word “sweetheart” felt foreign on her tongue, especially since the two weren’t dating. She felt his hands suavely make their way up her shirt for the second time that day.
“Yes,” he said cynically, “You’re innocent; I’m a sweetheart, and Snape’s hair isn’t greasy.”
They both grinned madly and wildly before falling into another lusty snog. Where had the shy, timid, little bookworm Granger gone? And who was this new outgoing, prank-pulling, sexy young woman? Neither one of them knew, but the most logical explanation is that all the time spent with the Prince of Slytherin was beginning to wear off on Hermione. And the odd thing about it all was that she didn’t mind one bit. Well, as long as none of her friends found out of course.
Hermione was finally able to negotiate with Malfoy. She would give him a back massage if he would let her be so she could sleep.
“Mmm yeah right there. Uh huh, a little harder… good…oh yeah now a bit to the right… mmmmm…”
“Malfoy, I’ve been massaging your back for twenty minutes. It’s time for you to uphold your end of the bargain.” Hermione said sleepily. She was leaning over him, a knee on either side of his body, about to fall asleep on the spot.
“Malfoy, did you hear me?”
“Granger, if you wanted me to listen to you then you should have thought about that before you rendered me bloody deaf in both ears.” he mumbled into her pillow.
“Fine,” she huffed. “Be that way; see if I care.” She climbed off of him and settled herself next to him on the bed, her back facing him and her eyes to the wall.
“Nox,” she commanded in a disgruntled voice. The light from her wand that she had been using as a lamp flickered out. Malfoy smirked into the darkness as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him in one swift movement, but received no protesting complaints from the exhausted Gryffindor Lioness.
Putting his lips up to her ear, he whispered softly, “Thanks love; sleep well.”
Hermione groaned as she thought, Why must he always be nice when I’m too tired to take advantage of it?
Rolling over, she faced him and snuggled into his firm, muscular chest. His grip on her only tightened, bringing her smotheringly close. Hermione was asleep in a matter of seconds-- it now being close to 3:30 in the morning.
Malfoy kissed her lovingly on the forehead.
Of course you care, Hermione, he thought, or else you wouldn’t be here right now. He sighed softly. My silly little Gryffindor… what am I going to do with you?
“Granger, get up. You’re going to be late for class.” Malfoy said unenthusiastically, nudging her shoulder in an attempt to wake the sleeping girl.
“Mmmmmnnggghh…” was the incoherently aggravated reply from Hermione.
“Really Granger, get out of bed. You’ve already missed breakfast; now are you aiming to miss Potions as well?”
“Mntotions knanh hkis mhey harse,” Hermione slurred.
“What was that?”
Hermione groggily lifted her head from the pillow, “I said, potions can kiss my arse. Tell them I’ve got the painters in.” She let her head fall back down with a satisfying ‘plop’. “It’s your fault I’m this tired anyways. You kept me up at dastardly hours to do despicably pointless things.”
“You’ve got the what in?”
“My little red flag is flying.”
“You have a flag?”
“There’s trouble at the mill.”
“I’m riding the cotton pony.”
“I don’t see any bloody ponies anywhere!”
“My friend is coming to visit.”
“I told you to keep Weaslette away from the dorm!”
“I’m surfing the crimson wa – Oh for Merlin’s sake Malfoy you dunderhead! Just tell them I’m on my bloody period and leave me the hell alone!” Hermione furiously yanked a pillow over her head and tried to pretend that she wasn’t dealing with such a fool. Hermione could feel Malfoy’s presence by the side of her bed still, so hesitantly she peeked one eye out from under the fluffy confines.
“What now?” she asked, wanting only to succumb to her fatigue.
“What’s a period again?”
Hermione dug her face into the mattress and screamed.
If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. I swear, the incapableness of men…
In the end, Hermione had marched down to the infirmary herself, still clad in her wrinkled pajamas with not a combed hair on her head, and dealt with Madam Pomfrey directly. Now, she was charging back up to her dormitory armed with a muscle relaxing potion and a vial of sleeping drought. Of course the muscle relaxant would be saved for a time when she was actually menstruating, but the sleeping potion would be well received and would ensure no disruptions whatsoever on her mental health day. Nor wind, nor sleet, nor Snape could stop her from wasting the day away in bed. It was a hard earned and well deserved day off for everybody’s favorite over-achiever.
Slipping back into the dorm room unnoticed, Hermione made a gleeful dive for her unmade bed, and giggled delightfully when she found that it was still a bit warm from when she left it. Malfoy had gone to class along with the rest of the students in the castle, leaving her in perfect peace and quiet. Uncorking the vial, Hermione drank half of it and then replaced the cork, tucking it into a shallow drawer in her nightstand. She smiled contently to herself, rather pleased to have everyone off her back for a while. She, with some help from the sleeping potion, fell into a deep and wondrous slumber, making up for (and plus some) the hours that she missed during Malfoy’s mini midnight tirade.
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