Title: Losing Points

Previously on chapter 1…

Draco gaped at her, looking momentarily stunned and lost for words. He quickly recovered and it was now his turn to look less than pleased.

“You can’t take points off of Slytherin,” ordered the offended blond.

“You injured another student, Malfoy. I’m allowed,” countered Hermione as she waved her finger. She started to recite word for word rule 458 until Draco stopped her. An expression of annoyance was written on his face.

“Mud-Granger, stop trying to show me that you’re a pathetic loser. I already knew that. I don’t want to hear your go on and on, repeating every single word in the rule book I didn’t know existed,” said Draco.

Hermione didn’t take kindly to the insult.

A/N: I’m back, so sorry for the long wait!

Chapter 2

Hermione could faintly hear her pocket ticking. Time wasn’t going to stop just for her and the tired, irritated witch still had so much to do. If only she wasn’t so distracted by a certain, annoying, talkative blond. Five precious minutes in which the Gryffindor could have been reading was now wasted due to the constant bickering Hermione had with the arrogant fool sitting beside her. Unlike some people she unfortunately knew, time wasn’t something that Hermione had great of.

The brown haired witch bit back a retort, knowing that Draco was egging her on so that she could explode in his face.

“-because of course I have every right to,” finished Draco.

Hermione blinked, surprise evident on her face.

He was still talking?!

“Every right to do what?” asked Hermione sharply, unable to help herself.

“Every right to give Slytherin fifty points. Sheesh Granger, do you have something in your ears. Wait- please don’t answer that,” rushed Draco , shaking his head.

“Fifty points?” bellowed the outraged girl. Her eyebrow twitched, not going unnoticed by the smirking Draco.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t abuse your power as Prefect, you-you-you idiot!” insisted Hermione furiously, no good insult coming in mind. “ You have to have a reason behind it.”

“Of course I have a reason. And I’m not an idiot, thank you very much. Winning the House Cup for once sounds very appealing. Honestly Granger, I have no idea why people say you’re the smartest witch in our year,” replied Draco coolly, examining his fingernails.

Hermione, having enough of the annoying Slytherin, stood up abruptly. She hastily grabbed her bag and unceremoniously dumped all her contents inside. Under normal circumstances, seeing all her hard work being crumpled hurriedly in her bag would have brought the young teenage girl into tears. But now, all Hermione wanted to do was leave Draco. Hermione couldn’t help but inwardly cringed, hating the fact that everything was so disorganized. Her papers were going to be wrinkled. It was going to look ugly. Unfortunately, it was the fastest (and only) way of leaving Draco.

“What are you doing? We’re not finished,” said Draco as he looked up from his fingernails, having the nerve to look offended. Hermione ignored him as she pushed her chair in and swung her enormous bag on her back. She had finally succeeded in keeping a blank expression while the possibility of actually punching Draco’s face wasn’t that far off.

I’m going to have back problems, she thought as she winced at the heavy load.

Draco frowned at the young girl’s departing figure. When did he give her permission to leave? He wasn’t finished having his fun. His usual smirk back in place, the vain Slytherin got up as well, following his unlucky victim.

The handsome blond quickly caught up with Hermione silently. The poor girl almost jumped in shock seeing that she suddenly wasn’t alone anymore. She grimaced visibly seeing who was her company.

The two walked side by side in total silence. From far away, the two rivals looked like a couple strolling around randomly in the castle. Hermione could practically hear the wheels turning in Draco’s head as he tried to think of a “clever” reason to take more points away. The annoyed Gryffindor rolled her eyes at his immaturity, oddly being reminded of Ron.

Hermione purposely slowed her pace; secretly hoping that Draco would walk ahead. But to the Gryffindor’s great disappointment, the blond boy slowed his pace to match her almost instantly.

Great, just great, thought Hermione with irritation.

“I am a man of power,” said Draco arrogantly.

“No,” corrected Hermione, unable to help herself,” you are a boy with very low intelligence,”

Hermione then started speed walking, her arms swinging by her side.

I don’t care if I look like a fool, I just want him gone, she thought.

Just when Hermione was about to congratulate herself, Draco’s smirking face came into view.

“It’s a good thing that you don’t participate in any sports, Granger. You would have made a fool of yourself. Can’t even walk properly,” Draco snorted as he easily walked side by side the livid Hermione, looking perfectly at ease.

“Are you going to take points away, then?” asked Hermione sarcastically, raising her eyebrow.

Oddly enough, Draco remained silent, his eyes staring ahead. A little surprise, Hermione started to walk her normal pace, feeling foolish and embarrassed. How many people saw her walking like that? The Gryffindor girl could perfectly imagine her best friends’ reactions if they could see her now.

But strangely enough, no students were passing by. The hallway was entirely quiet, safe for their footsteps and even breathing.

This is rather odd. I’m walking with Malfoy, thought Hermione.

“Is your finger all right?” Draco asked suddenly, his voice so soft and quiet that Hermione had to strain to hear. The young girl, expecting something entirely different, stopped dead in her tracks. Draco slowed down as well.

Eyes wide with disbelief, Hermione eyed the blond Slytherin as though he had gone insane.

“W-W-What?” she managed to stutter, her voice laced with shock.

Draco was averting his gaze, careful not to look at the stupefied Hermione in the eye. He stared at something over her head, his face unreadable.

“What did you say?” asked Hermione, her voice louder. It banged off the walls and echoed. She took a step towards the suddenly mute Draco, her expression unbelieving.

“I said,” snapped the once silent Draco, rather harshly. Coldness wrapped around his words as he looked at Hermione, “ten points from Gryffindor for bleeding.”

Hermione’s curious expression snapped and her annoyance seeped through.

She had had enough of Draco’s attitude.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy?” asked Hermione angrily. “I get points off for bleeding?!”

Draco gave her a strange look as a response.

That did not suit well with Hermione. Not at all.

“First of all, it was your fault that I bled. Secondly, it’s called a paper cut, parchment cut, whatever!” cried Hermione, the calm forever lost in her voice.

She opened her mouth to continue to give Draco a piece of her mind, when she was forcefully pushed back. Her back collided painfully against the cold, hard wall. Two arms planted themselves on each side of Hermione’s head.

Hermione blinked as she gave a gasp.

Draco’s face was suddenly near-too near to the Gryffindor’s liking.

She couldn’t ignore the fear bubbling inside of her as the witch forced herself to stare back at Draco.

A smirk graced Draco’s face as he looked down at the Gryffindor he was keeping as prisoner. He silently admitted to himself that Hermione hid her displeasure very well. But he could see that sliver of fear cracking her determined gaze.

A foreign emotion burst inside the arrogant blond. He realized that he liked seeing Hermione trapped, under his control. His smirk widened slightly.

“Scared, Granger?” he asked softly.

His breath tickled Hermione’s slightly parted lips and Hermione blushed in embarrassment. Draco watched attentively as a pastel red dusted on the girl’s cheeks as she broke the eye contact.

I can’t believe this, thought Hermione, inwardly frowning at her situation. I should really punch him.

Draco leaned forward, closing bit by bit the already small space separating the two.

“Malfoy, I get your point, okay? Can you give me some space?” asked Hermione quietly to Draco’s green and black tie.

Her request seemed to be ignored as Draco reached for her hand.

Confused and speechless, Hermione looked up. Her eyes were filled with unasked, silent questions. Draco’s hand found Hermione’s and brought it in front of him. His cold, slim finger lightly touched Hermione’s hand so delicately as though it was made out of glass.

Hermione never had felt so confused. What in the world was Draco doing? Why was he touching her so? Was he temporarily insane?

Hermione opened her mouth only to quickly close it. Her voice had picked the most perfect time to leave, making the poor witch unable to talk.

The mute Gryffindor studied Draco’s expression. The way his eyes were looking at each individual finger made the bookworm realize that he was searching for something.

What in the world?

Draco finally stopped and Hermione tore her gaze away his face. She saw that he holding carefully her index finger. His eyes were solely focused on her small paper cut.

Hesitantly Draco touched the cut that was healing. A cold fingertip brushed ever so lightly against Hermione’s skin. Surprised at Draco’s certainly strange behavior, Hermione pulled her hand back ever so slightly. Something swirled in Draco’s gray eyes before immediately letting go of Hermione’s hand. He took a step back, his eyes now focused on the finger that had touched Hermione’s paper cut. The same expression of fascination and disgust was back.

“Malfoy, what was that?” asked Hermione, thankful that her voice had returned and that she wasn’t croaking. She had no idea what to call the even that had happened. She could not find a proper name for what happened.

Draco, meanwhile, seemed to be thinking hard.

“Mudblood,” he whispered, staring at his hand and at Hermione with a strange look.

Almost instantly, Hermione’s dazed expression disappeared. Her mouth moved into a firm line while lines of anger and annoyance appeared on her forehead.

“Don’t you think that that little nickname is a little bit old? Can’t you think of something more creative, ferret boy?” asked Hermione.

“You know, when you bled I was actually surprised. I was expecting to see mud gushing out. That’s what Father had always said,” said Draco his voice far away. His face was unreadable as he stared at Hermione’s hand in wonder, as if expecting something disgusting to come out.

“But you just bled,” continued Draco lamely.

The slap that quickly followed echoed of the cold walls.

“How dare you? How dare you say such a thing?” hissed Hermione with such fury that her voice shook.

Her hand was still in mid air as if not knowing what else to do. Unshed tears sparkled in Hermione’s eyes as she regarded the shock Slytherin with pure rage. She had never felt so mad before in her entire life. Hermione’s hands shook and balled into tight fists.

Draco quickly recovered from his shock. His stormy gray eyes gave Hermione a frosted glare. On his right cheek lay a perfect red handprint of Hermione’s hand, a huge constraste to his pale white skin. An absolutely ugly sneer played on Draco’s features, making him looking more menacing and intimidating.

“A hundred points from Gryffindor,” hissed Draco, every single word as sharp as a knife.

“Oh really?” asked Hermione in a low voice.

Before Draco had the chance to answer, Hermione’s fist connected with his nose.

End of chapter 2

A/N: Review please?