6. Chapter 6: Draco

Hello, everyone! Again, I loved reading all of your reviews, so keep the comments coming. And if you would like to see a picture of a scene in Chapter 4, go here: h t t p : w w w . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / d e v i a t i o n / 1 3 8 4 8 7 7 3 /. Just paste it into your browser bar thing, without the spaces, with slashes in appropriate places. :D

I'm sorry if you don't like having people other than Draco and Hermione's POVs. I just thought it might be interesting to see what everyone else is thinking. If you don't mind, then that's great. Hehe!

& here is the next chapter of...

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10 Ways to Kill Draco Malfoy

Chapter 6

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DRACO

You know what? Something very strange happened to me today - or in the morning, on my way to Care of Magical Creatures, to be exact.

Granger fell into my arms.

Now, there is just something rather disturbing about that simple little sentence. For one, there's the 'Granger fell' bit. What had she been doing following me, anyway? Was she trying to hex me? I didn't do anything to her at breakfast.

Maybe it was the pumpkin juice that I spilled on her last night? Nah, she can't be still thinking about that. Of course, the only other thing could be that she had fallen for me and started trying to get close to me. But somehow, I have a hard time picturing Hermione Granger doing that - just as hard as it was to imagine Pansy not after me.

Then there's the 'into my arms' part. Why on earth hadn't I let her fall to her death and crack her head open on the floor? I'm just getting too damn soft for my own good these days. Maybe it was a reflex - when you see a girl falling at you, about to send you sprawling onto the ground and get a concussion, you reach out to steady her so you don't get brain damage.

Whatever the reason was, it was very odd.

"Hey, Draco. Dinner's about to start," Goyle's voice interrupts me from my thoughts. "Let's get going already."

I sigh. "Is food all you care about, you bloody moron?"

Goyle blinks. "Well, I suppose so," he says slowly, unsure of how to answer this kind of question - speak the truth, and annoy me with his answer, or lie and please me?

"Well, go get Crabbe. I'll be there in a while," I snap, and turn back to the book I had been reading before I got lost in my thoughts. I just hope that those two dumb assholes can get to the Great Hall by themselves without getting lost. Then again, there is the smell of food to guide them, if they ever do lose their way.

"OK then," Goyle says happily, and skips off. Trust me, funny as it seems, you do not want to see Goyle skipping. It can give you nightmares for weeks. I, thankfully, have my book to shield my eyes from this and continue reading.

Suddenly, there is a whoosh and a tawny owl soars past my head, its talons scraping my hair. It turns and then drops a letter on my lap. I look up from my book, put it aside and proceed to open the envelope, but the owl gives me a sharp peck on the hand. "Ouch!" I yell in surprise. Glaring at the bird, who returns my gaze with an equally strong glare of its own, I throw a small owl treat at it, which it catches deftly with its beak and swallows. I turn my eyes towards the letter.

To Mr D. Malfoy:

Regretfully, I have just received news that one of our Gryffindor Prefects, who was supposed to be patrolling tonight, has fallen ill and cannot perform his duties. It would please me greatly if you could take his place, and go see Professor McGonagall in the Transfiguration classroom, where you usually see her for Slytherin Prefect duties, at 8:00 pm sharp to be informed of what you have to do as as replacement for Mr R. Weasley.

If you have any inquiries, or do not wish to take this responsibility tonight because of any arrangements (catch-up classes, etc), please owl me as soon as you receive this letter. If you are fine with this, then I hope Professor McGonagall will see you there, on time.

Many thanks,

A. Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry

I smirk at the letter. "Weasley, ill? I really don't know how he got to be a Prefect in the first place... Dumbledore's favorites, I suppose."

I fold the letter up and place it into the pocket of my jacket, and as I look up, I notice the tawny owl is still standing there on the table, staring expectantly at me. "What do you want now?" I say impatiently to it, and then slap my forehead. What am I doing, talking to dumb birds? It isn't as if the owl could talk back.

I pick up a fistful of owl treats and fling them out the window. "Shoo," I say loudly. The owl doesn't move. I sigh again, the second time in less than 15 minutes. "I don't have a reply for Dumbledore. Now take that bag of owl treats and go, you bloody annoying ball of feathers."

The owl understands this, and with a happy hoot, grabs the treats with its claws and soars out the window. "Finally got rid of that fucking bird," I mutter to myself, and leave the common room for dinner. I'll need it, since Prefect duties don't finish until about 1:00 am. I don't plan to crawl around the halls with my stomach rumbling, especially not in front of a Gryffindor.

8:00 pm comes much too soon. I had set my watch alarm to that time so I wouldn't be late, and now it is beeping frantically on my right wrist. "Shut up," I snap at it, and realize that again today I have spoken to something that would obviously not reply.

"Is something wrong, darling?" asks Pansy in a sweet voice.

I glare at her. "No! And don't call me 'darling', Parkinson."

She pouts. "Aw! But I like calling you darling, darling!"

I sigh. Conversing with Pansy Parkinson is like speaking to a wall, albeit a very stupid talking one. "Nothing's wrong. I have to go for Prefect duties. Now go away!" I emphasize my point by swatting at her with my Transfiguration notes. Unfortunately, they fly out of my hands and fly everywhere. "Shit!" I swear, and along with that word comes many others that I won't mention.

"Let me," offers Pansy, and to my surprise, instead of stepping on my papers by accident, she collects them silently one by one and hands them to me in an untidy stack. "That's all of them."

I am shocked at this sudden change in behavior, but take it as a good sign. After all, anything is better than her purring 'Draco darling' into my ear every day. "Thank you, Pansy," I say graciously, and place the notes into my bag.

"You're welcome, Draco darling!" she says, sighing lustfully (urgh) and batting her lashes at me. I turn away, disgusted and disappointed - looks like she hasn't changed, after all. After throwing my bag onto my four-poster bed, I hurry down the steps of the dormitory with only my wand and walk towards the Transfiguration classroom.

When I push open the door to the class, I find that Professor McGonagall is already there. I glance quickly at my watch and find that I am a little bit early.

"Hello, Professor," I say pleasantly, and she raises an eyebrow at me.

"You're early, Mr Malfoy," she says, stating the obvious.

I smirk. "Well, that's news to me, Professor," I say sarcastically, and the teacher's mouth thins until it is just a line.

"Mr Malfoy," she snaps. "Just because you are now slightly more popular with the female students, it does not give you an excuse to be rude to your Professors."

I am surprised that even she noticed my change in looks and as a result, an increase in my female fans. I shrug. "Sorry, Professor," I say lightly, and then the door opens. It must be the other Prefect.

When I see who it is, I laugh inwardly. Of course. How could I have not realized? Gryffindor? Prefect? Not Weasley? The only other Gryffindor Prefect is, obviously, Granger. When she sees me, she takes a small step back, but then averts her gaze and glances at McGonagall.

"Is... is he the other Prefect patrolling tonight, Professor?" she asks, her voice shaking a bit. Why, I wouldn't know. Maybe she's nervous about patrolling with the Slytherin sex god. I'm definitely not nervous about doing Prefect duties with the Mudblood bookworm.

"Yes," replies McGonagall, but the look she gives Granger is one that says, Unfortunately, it is him. I'm sorry about this arrangement, Hermione. I pretend not to notice. Hey, it's a blow to a man's ego when people exchange looks like that. I don't know what I've done in the past five years to make the famous trio hate me so much. Nothing that I consider hateful, anyway.

What? Why are you giving me that look? I haven't done anything... I think.

"Oh," Granger says a small voice, and sighs.

"Scared to patrol with me?" I sneer. "I don't bite."

She glares at me with that glare of hers that I've grown to find amusing, and almost cute, in the past years.

Gack. What am I saying? The word 'cute' does not belong in Draco Malfoy's dictionary, thank you very much.

"I'm not scared," she says angrily. "There's nothing to be afraid of from a little -" - she glances at McGonagall to make sure she is looking elsewhere, before making a rude gesture at me - "- like you, anyway."

"Ooh, didn't know you had it in you to make rude signs, Granger," I say loudly, and see, to my satisfaction, that the Professor hears and frowns at Granger.

"Rude signs? Really, I'd have expected better from a Prefect, Miss Granger," she scolds. Granger turns pink and looks away. I grin wickedly. "Well, now: your patrolling duties for tonight. You will patrol the corridors around the Hufflepuff common room, to make sure nobody is out wandering about after 9:00 pm. If you catch anyone, you have the authority to deduct house points from the student's house, and make sure they get back to their common rooms as quickly as possible. You do not need to escort them personally as that will waste time.

"Your patrolling time will finish at 1:00 am. Make one last round to make sure no one is around, and then you may go back to your own common rooms and go to bed." Professor McGonagall looks around at us. I've already heard this talk before, many times last year, and I suppress a yawn and nod. Granger, as usual, is listening intently to every word. "Any questions?" We both shake our heads. "Then you may go. Make your way down to the Hufflepuff common room, and do not wander around elsewhere, if you can."

Granger stands up and starts to leave. I follow and we walk down the corridor in silence.

"So where's your boyfriend, Weasley? Ill, is he?"

"Yes, and he's not my boyfriend!" she answers hotly. I smirk in response. She quickens her pace and is soon far ahead of me.

"Hey, don't forget that we have to stick together, or I'll have to report to Dumbledore that you left me behind and shirked your duties," I drawl. She slows down and soon we are walking side by side again.

We reach the Hufflepuff corridors, and begin patrolling. It is pretty bloody boring most of the time, so Granger and I amuse ourselves by trading insults, or discussing Pansy or someone equally brainless to talk about.

As we talk, I realize that maybe Granger isn't as much of the study maniac that I'd expected. To be honest, apart from insults, I had been prepared for a deep discussion about studying and homework that went something like this:

Her: Have you done your Potions homework, Malfoy?

Me: No.

Her: You should, you know! It's due on Friday. Only 2 days away!

Me: Yeah, OK.

Her: I can't wait until next year, when we do our NEWT's. How many do you think you'll get?

Me: Dunno.

Her: I bet I'll get good marks for everything! What do you think?

Me: Hum ho. Right-o.

Me: What the- I mean, whatever. (God, that Mudblood is screwing up my brain with her boring talking...)

This was much more interesting to converse about than lessons or our latest assignment.

Appoximately three long hours of pointless conversations and seven wandering students later, I glance at my watch and notice that it is already 12:40 am. "Time just flies when you're having fun," I say sarcastically.

"Ha. Ha. Yes, you're right," she says in a forced voice. "If you count patrolling with stupid Malfoy as fun," she adds in a small voice, though not so small so that I couldn't overhear.

"I heard that," I say.

"You were meant to," she grins back. "Let's just finish our patrolling for tonight. I'll be glad to be rid of you, Malfoy."

"Sure. Can't wait to get your ugly mug out of my sight, too."

The two of us stop and glare daggers at each other. We seem to be doing this a lot lately.

As we proceed to do our last round, we pass by the Hufflepuff common room. Since we have finished our duties, Granger doesn't walk past it like she has for the last three hours and instead bends forward to have a look at the entrance.

The door to their common room is covered by a colorful curtain that looks fragile and easy to break into, but when you near it you will realize that it is made with something close to steel, and will only turn to the fabric that it looks like temporarily when you say the password.

"Ingenius," says Granger as she examines the 'curtain'. "I haven't seen anything like this before."

"I wouldn't be surprised, with your feeble Muggle parents," I say, taking the opportunity to provoke her. She's quite pretty when she's angry, you know.

She gives me the furious look I was expecting. "Shut up, Malfoy," she says. "Or I'll do what Moody did and bounce you around the corridors - without turning you into a ferret first."

"Is that a threat, Granger?" I say softly.

"Yeah, it is," she replies in the same tone.

I smile maliciously, which only seems to make her even more angry. "I suppose I should be shivering in fear... filthy Mudblood."

She glares at me. "Just because your dear father is in Azkaban, it doesn't give you an excuse to call people names."

My eyes harden. Stupid Granger. What does she know about my father being in Azkaban? She doesn't know how much he suffers, and though I don't care about him, the embarassment of my family caused by him is great. We were lucky this previous summer, that we didn't have the media swarming all over our lawn. Mother nearly broke down when she heard that Father had been sent to Azkaban for being in league with Voldemort, though I suspect that it was more from shame than love.

"Is that so? And what excuse do you have to talk about my father being in Azkaban?" I say quietly, taking a step towards her with every word, and soon her back is against a wall. Her delicate face is flushed and she flinches as I place my palms on the wall, next to her head.

"What are you doing...!" she starts to say, but I cut her off, putting a finger on her lips. Then, I lean towards her face so that our lips are less than an inch apart, then turn slightly until my mouth is next to her left ear. Quite close to her ear, too.

"Don't ever talk about my Father again. Do you hear me, Granger?" I whisper. She snorts, but doesn't say anything. No response, huh? Looks like I need to take my threatening actions further.

My lips touch her ear, and she gives a funny choking sound. How unusual. Normally, if I did this on any other girl, they would be fucking moaning already like there's no tomorrow. And that usually puts me off. However, Granger isn't that kind of girl, and she doesn't make a sound. "I didn't hear your answer," I whisper, deliberately breathing onto the skin of the curve of her neck. Though that was probably enough provoking, because she squeaks and suddenly pushes me away roughly. I smirk as she whips out her wand and points it at me, her eyes wide with surprise and fury.

"Did you enjoy that, Granger?" I ask, my eyes glittering. Actually, I was quite afraid of what Granger might do with her wand. She is a bloody smartass after all. I don't want to risk ending up with a faceful of green warts or something to that extent.

"You wish," she mutters, putting her wand away, her face cooling now and not as red anymore. Inside, I sigh in relief that she put her weapon away. "You do that to me again, and I'll kill you with my bare hands, I swear. The only reason I'm not hexing you to the middle of next week right now is because I'm a Prefect."

"So you say," I say lightly. "I'm leaving. Say hello to Potty and Weasel for me, and tell Weasel that I hope he stays ill for as long as possible."

"Huh," she frowns. "Whatever, ferret-thing. Lumos!"

And then she leaves, walking down the corridors, which are dark except for the lights at the tip of our wands.

Ferret-thing? I smirk and head in the opposite direction - down to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room, where I would be able to get some well-deserved sleep.

I think today was quite an eventful day. It's not often when you get to seduce your worst enemy, you know.

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Oooooh! I really hope you like this fic so far. Don't worry, everybody, I can't and don't write very fluffy/soppy stories (though I'm not sure that's a good thing or not). This story will just contain some fluff.

Please tell me what you thought of the little romance-ish bit, and if it was OK. I need feedback for my first 'nearly kissing' event between Draco and Hermione. :D