A tiresome day
It was late in the evening, almost night. The sky outside was like a dark blanket, strewed with hundreds of blinking and shining stars. Hermione had turned off the lights in her room and it was now pitch black. The only source of light was the moonlight being cast through the window. She was lying on her bed, barely able to work out the outlines of the items around her. She stared up at the large stones which made out the sealing above her, tracing the almost invisible lines with her eyes. They made such a beautiful pattern somehow. She sighed. It had been quite an interesting day. She let her thoughts fly back to Malfoy's reaction to her choice of subject.
“Why that one, exactly?” he said in a wondering tone with his eyes on her left shoulder.
“You told me to choose and I did, didn't I? Isn't that what matters?” she asked. She could hear the challenge in her voice, something she hadn't ment for. “I just thought it would be easy. We probably know what our favourite things are, right? And there is no great need of searching through books for information,” she quickly added to maintain the newly found peace.
“Right.” He nodded slightly and started to play with a feather quill.
Yes, she had successfully avoided a new argument or a discussion. It was her goal, to be able to be civil around each other, so that they could be out of there as soon as possible. After some minutes in silence they had started to discuss what the objects were and tried briefly to make a start.
”What is your favourite thing, then?” Draco asked.
“Oh, you know,” she answered in an everyday tone. “Books and reading.” He rolled his eyes at her answerer. “What a surprise!” Hermione narrowed her eyes, but didn't say anything.
“What is yours, then?” she continued, staring into his face. He looked around the room, apparently to avoid meeting her gaze. “My broom and flying,” he finally said. He reached out for the little piece of parchment with the subjects on and started to draw circles on it. They were quiet for a couple of minutes, a heavy tension hanging over them. Draco drew and Hermione watched, a tiny bit irritated.
“Well, then,” she said to keep the conversation going. “Shall we start?” Draco lifted his head a few inches and put the quill down. “Sure.” He didn't sound too excited about it. Hermione went to collect the parchment they had gotten from Dumbledore to write the essay on. They had gotten two quills as well, one of them already in Malfoy's possession. He had picked it up again and was now studding the feather.
“...Right,” she started. “Let's just start by writing down the objects, shall we?” She snapped the quill out of his hand and started to write before he got the chance to answer.
“Oi!” he exclaimed. “I was using that!” He send her a deadly glare which she responded with a dejected one. “You were looking at it,” she pointed out, a hint of coldness in her voice.
“That's not the point,” he said sullenly. “The point is that-”
“Will you just let it go!” she said loud and stared at him. “You and me both know that I punch really hard to be a girl,” she added warningly when he opened his mouth to retort. It hung open for a second, then he closed it. He opened it once more and closed it without a word, then he gave her another deadly look before he turned away.
She smiled faintly at the thought of it. He had looked so grumpy, like a little child who hadn't gotten his will.
A cold breeze drifted through the room and Hermione tucked the quilt tighter around her. The winter was right around the corner, it seemed, even though it was still only October. Dark clouds had started to gather on the night sky, and shortly after the rain was tapping hard against the window. It remaindered her of music and she started humming on a melody that popped into her head. She was quite fond of it, thought she couldn't recall what song it was, nor where she had heard it the first time. She knew one thing, thought. Draco Malfoy heated it.
”Can't you just shut up?” Draco was shaking from suppressed anger, his voice dripping with poison. “You are driving me insane!” One look at him would tell that he wasn't far from it. He had his hands well pressed over his ears, he was gritting his teeth and his eyes were big and scary.
Yes, I can see that, Hermione thought to herself. “What is your problem?” she said out loud. “I was merely humming. It was not a crime that last time I checked.” She gave him a stern look. Now that she had stopped he released his ears and steadied his breath.
“That was the sound of the Devil,” he mumbled. Hermione was shocked. How could he say something like that? She knew she hadn't the prettiest voice, but that was just mean. She felt like punching him or curse him, make him hurt. Why did he always had to be so cruel? It really hurt her feelings.
When Hermione thought about it now, she realised that he hadn't been as cruel this year as he used to. On the train he hadn't insulted them, only been grumpy. Ron had noticed it too. He had only called her mudblood once, after the duel when McGonagal gave them the detention. He had been quite like himself, with his evil sarcasme, but he hadn't called her things. What was going on? Oh, well, it didn't bother her
not being called names.
She had been hurt by his words about her singing, and no matter how much she had tried to tell herself that it was Malfoy – and that he was a stupid gitt not worth getting upset about – she couldn't help but taking inn his words. The atmosphere had started to sour and things hadn't worked that well. The peace was bound to break sooner or later.
Her eyes were attached to the parchment and the few words that were written on it.
Subject: My favourite thing in the World
It wasn't much to brag about yet. Now, how was they supposed to write this thing, she wondered.[/i]
Hermione: Books and reading
Draco: Broom and flying
Writing down keywords about the things could be a good idea, [i]she thought, and that's what she told Malfoy. “Who needs keywords?” he spat haughtily. “We'll just start writing on each thing and then put them together.”
“Yes,” she said, “That's what you do after you have written the keywords and found out what you are going to write.” They glared at each other with mutual loath.
“Fine then,” Draco whispered, his voice cold as ice, giving Hermione goosebumps. He bounced up, grabbed a roll of parchment and strode over to the other side of the room. He seemed to boil. Hermione felt quite like that herself at the moment. What was with him?
Hermine leaned her back on the chair for an eternity with her eyes closed before she turned her attention back to the present. She let her eyes wander over to where Malfoy was sitting with his back against her. He was bend forward, head in his hands. He seemed to be thinking. Well, if this was the way he wanted it, she would write the essay by herself.
Where's the parchment gone to? [i]she thought surprised after scanning the table for it. She looked under it, but there were nothing there.
Oh... she thought irritated when she realised that the parchment Malfoy had taken with him was the one she had been writing on. Fuming, she went to find another. She rolled it out and dipped the quill. She let it hang in the air while thinking, and then she lowered it till it touched the yellowish paper. She started to move it, forming her small and tidy letters. She let the quill go faster, running over the parchment as more words came into her head. This was something she knew how to do, and since she knew what to write, it was so easy. It wasn't until she had covered half of it she discovered something horrible. She read through what she had written to make sure she had gotten everything she knew on each key. But what was there, written in black ink, was something totally different. It was all covered in 'skvabberibapp' and 'slurribart' and other similar words. She yelled out in surprise. All that work for nothing.
She could hear Malfoy swear under his breath on the other side of the room. Had he noticed it too? Hermione weighed the pros and cons of going over to him and ask, but in the end the common sense won over the stubbornness, and she steeled herself for what might come and marched over to him with her shoulders back and her head high. Although she wore socks on her feet which subdued the sound of her steps, he must have noticed she was right behind him. “What do you want, Granger?” he asked.
“To see if you have noticed it too,” she answered darkly.
“Noticed what?” He turned his head to look at her with his steel-grey eyes. She met his gaze with her own hazel ones. An understanding floated between them, telling them to let go of their pride and hate, and start working as a team to get through this task. Dumbledore's words rang in their ears only to let them know that they had wasted a long time on being childish.“I must emphasize that you are going to do the work together, not on your own. It will not be valid if you do not cooperate. You will notice it if you try.”
It had been a tiresome day. She was sick and tired of the fights they had all the time, it was childish the way they had acted these past few days. But they had managed to put it all aside, at least for now, and started on the essay which forced them to spend time together.
Hermione sighed and rolled over so she faced the wall. They seemed to be heading in the right direction, after all. If they got the speed up, they would be done in no time. She felt her eyelids go heavy and she yawned before she drifted tenderly off to sleep.
I hope everyone liked it, and I'm very sorry for all the errors that may be there. And the weird spacing, but the thing just did not want to work with me.