Professor Pain-in-the-Arse
After an hour, two more drinks, and a whole lot of Ginny taking the mickey out of her at any given opportunity, Hermione had finally convinced herself that Malfoy had left the Three Broomsticks. Surely if he were still lurking around somewhere, she would feel it. He practically radiated a smug and infuriating energy.
She definitely was not prepared to bump straight into him as she stood to visit the bar. Startled, Hermione jumped and almost fell face first onto the dusty wooden floor. Except she didn’t hit the floor. A pair of strong hands steadied her.
“Oh for Godrick’s sake–Malfoy?” Her voice turned cold. “What the hell are you still doing here?”
“And miss the chance to hear you rant about me even more? Not a chance.”
Hermione groaned, turning to walk away. Malfoy countered her, taking a deliberate step into her path.
“Although, I must say, I’m rather disappointed. I was hoping for at least one comment about my hair.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Your hair?” The audacity of this little shit.
Malfoy tilted his head, like it was completely obvious what he meant. “Come on, Granger. You clearly spend enough time analyzing my every move–surely you have thoughts on my hair? Perhaps that it is perfectly quaffed and makes me look even more devilishly handsome?” he smirked.
“Well of course I do,” Hermione said, voice dripping with saccharine.
Malfoy looked wary, his smirk faltering. Ginny perked up in her seat.
“Do you really?” Malfoy asked cautiously.
Hermione gave him her most innocent doe eyes as she reached up towards his head. Her fingers lingered inches from his pale blonde locks. She tilted her head. “I’ve always wondered… How much time do you spend styling it every morning?”
Malfoy’s brows furrowed. Clearly not the reaction he was looking for. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just so… perfect. All the time. You must have a very thorough hair care regimen.”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed as Ginny bit back a laugh.
“Do you use a charm? Or is it—Merlin, don’t tell me—it’s natural, isn’t it!” Hermione grinned.
Malfoy looked personally offended. “Granger—”
Hermione covered her mouth in an attempt to soften the giggles escaping from her. “Oh! No–you must have a collection of enchanted combs! I’ve read about an Ancient Egyptian wizard that invented something similar. Surely you’ve worked out a deal with one of his living ancestors.”
Ginny howled with laughter.
Malfoy glared at Hermione, jaw clenched. “I hate you.”
Hermione simply beamed, stepping past him with a victorious toss of her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry, Malfoy. I’ll be sure to make it a key point at our next staff meeting.”
And with that, she strolled off, Ginny in a fit of giggles behind her, while Malfoy stood there, stunned, incredulous, and possibly a little impressed.
Already giddy from the high of putting Malfoy in his place, Hermione ordered a gilly water from the bar rather than another butterbeer. As she got back to the table, she noticed that this time Malfoy was nowhere in sight, or lurking in the shadows.
“Did that git finally realize that he needed to go back to the castle?” she asked Ginny as she sat back down.
“Honestly, Hermione, I think he might have run for the hills. I swear I have never seen his face so red.”
“Serves him right for how he treated me earlier tonight. I came here to hangout with you, not fight with him.”
“All you do is fight with him, what did you expect?”
“I don’t fight with him all the time!”
Ginny rolled her eyes, not believing her for a second. “Sure you don’t.”
Hermione scoffed. “I’m serious! He isn’t always a complete prat.”
Ginny blinked. “I’m sorry. Have I had one too many butterbeers tonight? Or did you just defend Malfoy?”
Hermione groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I’m not defending him… I’m simply acknowledging that he isn’t always a Grade A Arse.”
Ginny grinned, leaning forward, encouraging Hermione. “Go on.”
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She began timidly, “It was after my horrendous disaster of a first day. I was completely defeated and I think he could tell.”
Ginny arched a brow. “And?”
Hermione exhaled, taping the side of her glass. “He didn’t gloat. He didn’t smirk. He just sat there in the staff lounge, letting me complain about my day. And then—” she hesitated, dropping her voice even lower, “ —he said something actually decent.”
Ginny was on the edge of her seat. “Decent, how?”
Hermione hesitated again, then finally, begrudgingly went on. “I facetiously asked why I thought I would ever be good at teaching and he—” She paused, trying to decide if she had really heard him say it or if she had just dreamed it. “ —he said ‘because you are.’”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Hermione scowled at her gilly water like it had personally offended her. “I know. Infuriating.”
Ginny smiled slowly. “Infuriating because you weren’t expecting it, or because you actually appreciated it?”
Hermione shot a glare at her best friend.
Ginny grinned, utterly delighted. “Oh, this just gets better and better.”
“Shut up! You are supposed to be my best friend! Can’t you just let me be mad and listen to my complaint without comment?”
Ginny chuckled softly. “You really have no idea what you sound like, do you?”
Hermione looked offended. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Ginny sipped her drink, knowingly. “Absolutely nothing if you are too blind to see it.”
“Ginny, I swear I DO NOT LIKE DRACO MALFOY.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” She stood to get up from the table. “Do me a favor though, next time you talk to Harry or Ron try to be a bit less obvious if you don’t want them to ‘curse first and ask questions second’. They may be thick, but even they would be able to see through you in a minute.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped. “I—” she paused. “What?”
Ginny grabbed her bag and slung it onto her shoulder, then wrapped Hermione in a tight hug. “You’ll figure it out. Thank you for this evening. It was very entertaining.”
“Glad I am everyone’s source of entertainment.” Hermione grumbled, muffled by Ginny’s long, fiery hair.
Ginny chuckled and released her. “Don’t get too down. I’ll see you in a few days for your birthday, but feel free to owl me if Professor Pain-in-the-Arse pays you another compliment before then.”
Hermione giggled at the nickname. Very appropriate. She said goodbye and made her way back to the castle.