worksofstone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
worksofstone) wrote2011-09-30 08:09 pm
worksofstone) wrote2011-09-30 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
Marked
Rating: T
Pairing: Dramione
Notes: Rough, rough drafts. Will get beta'd and britpicked later. Wildcard (Uniforms) Square.
“Malfoy, I need to speak with you.”
Malfoy smirked as the other prefects' footsteps faded away. He leaned back in his chair; the creak of wood echoed in the meeting room, empty but for them. His eyes flicked over her and rested briefly on her prefect badge, just like he'd been doing all meeting long. He finally met her glare.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Could you cease your irritating behavior?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Granger.”
They resumed their staring match; she snapped first.
“What is with you?” She leaned over the meeting room table, pressing her fingers onto the scarred tabletop; she felt her fingertips whiten. “Is it my hair? Too puffy? Do I have food on my face? Is my tie crooked?” There was no response. “Stop. Staring. At me.”
His eyes flicked to her Prefect's badge. Again.
“You think I'm unworthy of being a Prefect? Is that it? Harry and Ron not hexed you enough?” Memories of similar arguments ran through her head, tiresome and threadbare. Hermione felt her neck crick from stress. “It's our fifth year, Malfoy. I'm a witch, a Hogwarts student and a prefect. Deal with it.”
Malfoy rose from his seat, snagging his books as he stood. “I have better things to do than listen to your delusions, Granger.”
As he walked towards the door, Hermione resigned herself to the fact that, yet again, Malfoy showed no signs of being a redeemable human being. She glared at the tabletop and took calming breaths, thinking of soothing Arithmancy problems and tricky Charms work that she'd soon master.
He paused beside her. She looked up in confusion, even as his hand brushed briefly over her shoulder. Her hand dove for her wand, but Malfoy stepped back before she did more than raise it. He quirked an eyebrow.
“Temper, temper, Granger. It was only a loose thread.” He bent over and whispered; his breath ghosted along her hair. “Couldn't have my favorite prefect looking less than perfect.” His eyes were hooded and dark, his features sharply attractive; something knife-edged and hungry twisted inside her.
His robes brushed hers as he stepped past, and the door swung shut behind him. His footsteps faded as the meeting room filled with evening shadows. It was early autumn and the room was far from cold.
Hermione shivered all the same.
Pairing: Dramione
Notes: Rough, rough drafts. Will get beta'd and britpicked later. Wildcard (Uniforms) Square.
“Malfoy, I need to speak with you.”
Malfoy smirked as the other prefects' footsteps faded away. He leaned back in his chair; the creak of wood echoed in the meeting room, empty but for them. His eyes flicked over her and rested briefly on her prefect badge, just like he'd been doing all meeting long. He finally met her glare.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Could you cease your irritating behavior?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Granger.”
They resumed their staring match; she snapped first.
“What is with you?” She leaned over the meeting room table, pressing her fingers onto the scarred tabletop; she felt her fingertips whiten. “Is it my hair? Too puffy? Do I have food on my face? Is my tie crooked?” There was no response. “Stop. Staring. At me.”
His eyes flicked to her Prefect's badge. Again.
“You think I'm unworthy of being a Prefect? Is that it? Harry and Ron not hexed you enough?” Memories of similar arguments ran through her head, tiresome and threadbare. Hermione felt her neck crick from stress. “It's our fifth year, Malfoy. I'm a witch, a Hogwarts student and a prefect. Deal with it.”
Malfoy rose from his seat, snagging his books as he stood. “I have better things to do than listen to your delusions, Granger.”
As he walked towards the door, Hermione resigned herself to the fact that, yet again, Malfoy showed no signs of being a redeemable human being. She glared at the tabletop and took calming breaths, thinking of soothing Arithmancy problems and tricky Charms work that she'd soon master.
He paused beside her. She looked up in confusion, even as his hand brushed briefly over her shoulder. Her hand dove for her wand, but Malfoy stepped back before she did more than raise it. He quirked an eyebrow.
“Temper, temper, Granger. It was only a loose thread.” He bent over and whispered; his breath ghosted along her hair. “Couldn't have my favorite prefect looking less than perfect.” His eyes were hooded and dark, his features sharply attractive; something knife-edged and hungry twisted inside her.
His robes brushed hers as he stepped past, and the door swung shut behind him. His footsteps faded as the meeting room filled with evening shadows. It was early autumn and the room was far from cold.
Hermione shivered all the same.