9. Chapter 9: Draco

I did promise there would be some excitement this chapter, right? O.o Ok, here it is then. :D Thank you to all the reviewers! -Hands out Pocky-

Regarding the past comments of some readers:

Zekintha: Quote 1: Basically, what Hermione was trying to say to Ron was 'get out of here fast and give those two some time alone'. Quote 2: I suppose you're right... I've changed it now. Thanks!

MysteryMadeMe: Aww, I'm so sorry your fic got deleted! One of my old stories were deleted too. Wahhhhh!

fireball11234: Wow, my first ever flame. :P I doubt you're reading this, but let me say this: If you think this is the 'fuckiest absolute worst' fanfiction you've ever read, then I don't see why you bothered to flame me for it. Of course, this might be so that you can tell me how much you hate this, but really, if you don't like a story then just don't read it. Simple as that.

& onto...

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10 Ways to Kill Draco Malfoy

Chapter 9

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DRACO

That stupid fucking Mudblood. If she hadn't slapped me, then I might have only needed to spend two nights in the Hospital Wing. But because of that misplacement of my hand she had hit me harder than anyone ever before, and I think something in my back snapped as I fell. So two nights ended up being four. And I couldn't even move - I stared blankly at the ceiling the whole time. And I don't think I need to tell you that the ceiling wasn't exactly very interesting.

Well, she always did like to slap me. Why - I wouldn't know.

"Are you alright now, Draco darling?"

I think you know who this is.

"I'm fine." I sip the mug of coffee in my hand and flip through the Transfiguration textbook, looking for references to the spell Pyrifico, which sets the desired object aflame.

"Would you like a back massage?" she asks sweetly - or as sweetly as a Parkinson can be.

I choke on my drink and turn to glare at her. "Thanks, but no thanks."

I've had experience with her back 'massages' (which is more like torture than a massage). What she does is make you lie flat on your stomach, and then she does this huge karate-chop style movement into the middle of your back. If you haven't had enough calcium, then that chop would be more than likely to send you to the Hospital Wing. Thankfully my Quidditch practices helped my muscles, but even so I was just able to take the strain.

After that, she does several more chops along your back and then sits on you. Pansy isn't exactly overweight, but she's not skinny either, and her weight is probably enough to make you shriek for help. Of course, by the time somebody comes, she's already done several more moves on you, and you'll be either gasping for breath or unconscious.

Pansy pouts, apparently unaware of how much agony her massages have caused me. "Awww! But you look like you need it. After all, your back just healed."

"Exactly why I don't want a massage," I snap. "Go do it to someone else."

Pansy simpers at me before jumping up to leave. "Good idea, darling! I'll help someone else relieve their stress."

I feel sorry for whoever gets her treatment.

Since it is a Sunday, there's no classes to go to. I decide that some flying might help me to relax, since my neck is starting to ache from bending down to write my essay for so long. I collect my books and throw it onto my four-poster bed before running a hand through my hair absently, and heading outside with my broom in my hand.

The cool wind is welcoming on my face after being in the stuffy common room all morning. Honestly, if they didn't prepare such great meals, I would have demanded that my father throw out all those bloody house elves a long time ago. Sure, they make your bed and tidy up your rubbish, but they just don't seem to understand that you don't light a fire the size of the one in the Slytherin common room in the middle of summer. I like warmth, but that is just too much. I don't want to boil to death in front of a fireplace. That would be an embarrassing way to die for a Malfoy.

I walk slowly towards the Quidditch Pitch. When I am outside of Madam Hooch's office, I knock on the door. Her face peers out at me. "Yes?"

"Can I fly around a bit on the court?" I ask, giving her my best smile.

She nods. "Alright. Just don't do anything dangerous. I'll be watching you."

"Of course," I say, and mount my Nimbus Two Thousand and One. I would have asked father that he buy me a better broom, but since he's in Azkaban there's not much he can do. So I have to make do with this.

I do a few quick laps of the Quidditch field, enjoying the feeling of the wind rushing past my ears, and when I come down I spot someone watching. I nudge the broom in their direction, and when I get close, I find that it is Granger. What a surprise. I land next to her and get off the broomstick. She claps grudgingly.

"I have to say, Malfoy, even though you lack anything vaguely resembling a brain and guts, you sure can fly. I guess it makes up for your pathetic spoonful of brain cells." She smirks, and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yes, and I suppose your know-it-all attitude makes up for your lack of flying skills," I answer smoothly. I don't think she's ever touched a broomstick again after that first lesson in our first year.

She grinds her teeth, already starting to get angry. "How do you know? Anyway, at least I'm not a brainless ferret," she fires back.

"At least I'm not a filthy Mudblood," I sneer.

"You're a real pain in the butt," she mutters. "And I mean a real pain."

"Then why did you come to watch the big pain in your butt fly?" I ask nonchalantly.

She shrugs. "I was bored, I guess. Nothing better to do."

I feign a hurt look. "Oh, you bruise me. So I'm the last resort when you're bored out of your wits."

Granger laughs. "That's right."

"Well, I'm sorry. Your last resort is now going back to his common room," I say lightly, and stride away with my broom over my shoulder.

That was unexpected. I mean, Granger and I actually had a civil conversation that wasn't completely made up of insults and sarcastic remarks. "There's a first time for everything," I mutter to myself as I approach the castle.

Later that day, there is an uproar around the Gryffindor common room. As I walk past the painting of the Fat Lady to go to dinner, someone beyond it screams and there is the sound of a struggle. A few moments later, a bedraggled Ron Weasley climbs out, glancing behind him fearfully. I notice that he is limping a bit. Oh well. Not my business. The Weasel probably tried to get some girl into bed and got beaten up for it. I shrug and continue to the Great Hall.

After the meal, Crabbe and Goyle follow me as we head back towards the common room.

"Did you hear about what happened to Weasley, Draco?" Goyle asks as we leave the bright lights of the Great Hall and enter the dim corridors of the dungeons. I stop when I hear the question, and recall what I saw earlier today.

"No. But I did see Weasel coming out of the common room. He didn't look too good."

"He probably didn't, because apparently Pansy forced the password from some first-year and entered the Gryffindor common room. She tried to give Weasley a back massage," Crabbe explains.

"She did what!" If I was drinking a cup of pumpkin juice right now, I would have spat it all out. If I was riding a broomstick right now, I would have fallen off. If I - well, you get the picture. I am amazed, but secretly I congratulate Pansy for choosing such a good victim. After all, Weasel deserves it.

"Pansy tried to give Weasley a -"

"I know what you said, you idiot," I snap. "It's a way of saying."

Goyle shrinks. "Oh."

"So how did you find out?" I ask. I hadn't heard anything about it since I last saw Weasley.

"Well, after you left for dinner early, Pansy came rushing back and screamed how Weasley has a nice butt for the whole common room to hear."

I cough. Weasley, nice butt? Somehow I don't think Pansy stopped at just giving him a massage. She probably started groping him as well. I shudder, and can't help but feel slightly sorry for the boy, as much as I hate him.

Suddenly, there is the sound of someone screaming my name. I look past Crabbe's shoulder and see, with some amusement, that it is no other than the Mudblood herself.

"Malfoy! Get your ass here right now!" she shrieks, her eyes wild and her hair flying behind her.

I raise a hand lazily. "Over here, ma'am. Nice seeing you again."

She spots me and marches angrily in my direction, stopping a few inches in front of me. "Why did you send Pansy to do that to Ron? And how did you get the password?" she asks menacingly, leaning in so that her face was centimetres from mine.

"I didn't tell Pansy to do that massage to Weasel. And she got the password herself."

Granger snorts. "That cow, getting the password to the Gryffindor common room? That's about as likely as you shoving your broomstick up your ass."

A bit obsessed with my ass, are we? I think, smirking. Normally Granger doesn't say anything even remotely rude, so she must be very angry to be keep repeating the word 'ass'. "Well, she got the password. And I didn't even shove my broom up my ass."

Her eyes grow furious. She grabs the front of my black t-shirt with a skull on it and glares at me. "I know you did this! So stop lying!" she shouts. "Who else can tell Pansy to do something like this? Ron nearly suffered the same fate as you because of that stupid cow!"

"And what happens to Weasley is no concern of mine," I snarl, grabbing her wrists. "Get your hands off my shirt. I don't want a Mudblood making them dirty."

She now looks ready to explode. "You-you BASTARD!" she screams and kicks me hard just under the kneecap. Ouch. That hurts. Inside, I cheer for the fact that I made Granger say the word 'bastard'. This is probably the first time in her whole life she's said that, whereas I have been uttering rude phrases all my life, since I was old enough to repeat things that I hear.

"Hey! Don't touch Draco, you stupid girl!" Crabbe and Goyle shout simultaneously. If I wasn't in such pain right now, I would have laughed out loud.

But what happens next doesn't make me laugh at all. Those two bloody dumbasses (I swear, if I didn't know better, I would have thought that Crabbe and Goyle had trolls for ancestors), each wanting to punch Granger, push each other out of the way and instead of hurting her, all they do is push her hard towards me.

And what follows is that her face, already close to mine, falls even closer. I start to push her away, but our eyes widen as Goyle accidentally gets shoved right into Granger's back and her lips land on mine.

There is silence as the minds of people close by, click. Then they realize what has happened and start staring. Crabbe and Goyle look like fish out of water with their mouths hanging open.

What takes up most of my view, however, is Granger's face. Her eyes stare into mine. I stare back. Suddenly she tries to scream when our mouths are still touching and instead just opens her mouth, forcing mine open and the same time and makes a muffled 'eeeewwrgh!' noise, sounding halfway between 'ewww' and 'aaaaaargh!'. Unfortunately, this makes it look as if we are snogging, which is not a good thing at all.

Now people are beginning to whisper among themselves. I hear snippets of conversation:

"Oh my God, what are those two doing?"

"- get a room, honestly..."

"I'll say..."

"Oh no! Does this mean Draco's taken!"

"I doubt it... I mean, this IS Hermione Granger kissing him..."

"Did we actually see Crabbe and Goyle shoving Hermione onto Draco or did she do it herself?"

"Who knows..."

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

My fucking reputation is ruined! All thanks to that stupid Mudblood (again)!

Granger pushes herself away - or rather, slaps my face aside so she is free (my face is beginning to get raw from all that slapping from her), a disgusted look on her face as she wipes her mouth, trying not to spit.

"You... you'll pay for this," she mutters, glaring daggers at Crabbe, Goyle and namely, me. People in the crowd titter as she passes them. "GET LOST! GO AWAY!" I hear her yelling at the crowd as some of the girls pursue her, obviously asking how she managed to do it. I smirk, despite the situation. Watching Hermione Granger always makes me smirk. It's quite odd, really.

Ooops. I meant Mudblood. Not Hermione Granger. Of course, they're the same person, but I really shouldn't start calling her by her first name in my head. It's unhealthy for a Malfoy.

Very unhealthy.

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Heheheh! What did I say about an exciting chapter? XD A kiss should satisfy you guys for a while. Of course, if was an accident, but oh well.

And please... don't kill me if you thought the description for the kiss was bad. It's so hard to describe a kiss with words! O.O