"Stop shaking the table."
"Because if I stop shaking the table then I will just end up shaking the Weasel instead."
Draco Malfoy was beside himself in fury, his hands were curled around the sides of the Slytherin table and his face was twisted into a murderous scowl. Blaise Zabini watched carefully as Draco squeezed his eyes closed and let out a shaky breathe, struggling not to leap up from the table and strangle someone. He rolled his eyes.
"Oh, please. She's only doing it because of the bloody bet you two made – which was stupid by the way, did you honestly think you could win? – and Weasley doesn't even know what's going on."
Draco's glare turned on him and Blaise almost shrunk away from him. "If you think for one minute that I thought I would be getting jealous over Weasel then you are sadly wrong. Honestly, I wouldn't have made the bloody bet if I thought I couldn't win!"
Pansy rolled her eyes at both the boys' behaviour. "Well, I'm going to assume it's your own fault then, Draco. I don't even know why you would make such a stupid bet anyway. Who actually allows their girlfriends to flirt with other guys just to prove a point?"
Draco gritted his teeth. "I wasn't allowing her to flirt with anyone. And I can't even remember how it happened. It was like, all of a sudden, I was shaking her hand, saying that if I could a full week without showing that I was jealous that she was talking to other guys then she would do whatever I wanted for a week. If I did get jealous, she would have the same privileges."
"But, you're obviously jealous. Doesn't this mean she's won?"
"Not if she hasn't noticed yet.
Pansy rolled her eyes, grabbing at a bread roll while shaking her head and mumbling, "She would have to be blind not to notice." Of course, her comment was ignored.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger hid a smirk as she slowly ran her hand down Ron Weasley's arm, causing him to blush like crazy. Somewhere at the back of her mind she noted that it was slightly awful to abuse Ron's crush on her to make her boyfriend jealous, but then again, all was fair in love and war.
Hermione only half listen to Ron rambling like a fool, though most of her attention was across the hall, where she could see Pansy Parkinson shaking her head at a red-faced Draco. Deciding to up her chances of winning, she suddenly – after making sure Draco was watching with his full attention – leant over towards Ron to whisper in his ear. This was the action that sealed the deal.
"That's it!" Draco suddenly exclaimed, pushing away from the table. There was only so much he could handle, and this was the limit. Hermione Granger was his, and no filthy Weasel was going to take that title away from him, no matter how fake he knew her actions were.
Blaise watched with amusement as Draco stomped over to the Gryffindor table, surly to make a fool out of himself, and pulled at the pie that was to the left of him to bring it closer. He always found that, while entertaining yourself with other peoples misfortunes and humility, it was handy to have a pie on you just in case. He had had way too many incidents that would have ended so much more to his favour had he just had a pie to shove in their face. Even an apple one, as disgusting as they were. Pansy looked at him strangely for a second, but Blaise just shook his head in a You-Don't-Even-Want-To-Know fashion.
Storming across the Great Hall in fury, Draco took a moment to relish in the confused-turned-horrified face of Ginny Weasley as she tugged pointedly on Hermione's arm, before his shadow engulfed them, causing Hermione to spin in her seat and face the pale Slytherin with a sly look in her eyes.
Harry Potter, the ever present and ever annoying Boy-Who-Lived-Simply-To-Make-A-Fool-Out-Of-Himself-Infront-Of-his-Supeior-Betters, glared at him from across the Gryffindor table. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't even worth an ounce of his patience to respond in any way to the Gryffindor who, it seemed, only uttered the same line upon ever opportunity that the two met. Who was to say that Draco wanted anything?
Draco slid his eyes down to Hermione. "Fine."
Hermione's eyebrows rose, though her lips twitched slightly. "Fine? Whatever do you mean, Malfoy?"
Little Vixen, the blonde haired boy thought, seething. She knew exactly what. "Fine, you win."
Hermione eyed her boyfriend warily, noting his clenched fists and wrinkled forehead – no doubt he would complain to her latter that night about how she was ruining his perfect face – and mental figured how much more she could push the boy. She thought once more should do it.
"I win? But, Draco, what do I win? I don't understand." She frowned innocently, wrapping her hand around Ron's upper arm, as if seeking protection and Draco cracked. He could just imagine, somewhere in the deepest, darkest part of the world, a huge, mind-blowingly destructive earth-shake was shattering whatever sort of peace and quiet the deepest darkest part of the world held.
Leaning forward quickly, bracing himself on the Gryffindor table either side of Hermione, Draco growled quietly to his girlfriend. Hermione was leaning back slightly, startled from the sudden movement. "I mean, you win. You win, and I was jealous and now you can have your wicked way with me for the week. Happy?" And before she could answer, Draco swept in, pushing his lips forcefully against hers in a passionate kiss, that caused an outbreak of gasps and cries to be heard around the Hall, before he pulled away, straightened up and walked back to his own table.
Sitting beside Blaise, Draco picked up his fork, mumbling to his friend "If Weasel or Pot-Head try anything, protect me, yeah?"
Blaise nodded solemnly. "Sure mate. The pie is at the ready."
I do apologise for my lack of writing lately, I find myself without a muse and with a very bad case of Writers-Block mixed with way too much time. Not a good combination. Hope you're enjoying the holidays. Rate and review if you really feel the need too.
DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise is mine.