Dramione One Shots

20. Say Less

"Good morning, Granger." Draco did a double take when she didn't respond, puzzled but prepared for a verbal battle; he knew who he was dealing with, after all. "Look, I know we got into it yesterday, but you could at least say hello..."

She held up a pocket-sized notebook. I lost my voice.

"And you say I talk too much. Clearly evidence begs to differ."

She flipped to a new page and scrawled: It's YOUR fault!

"My fault you have the temper of an active volcano? No, I'd call that a genetic shortcoming and, before you whip that letter opener at my head, that wasn't a jab at your blood. There are plenty of pure-bloods who suffer from the same condition. Take Pansy, for instance. She's got the patience of a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Don't tell her I told you so... but I suppose you won't be telling anybody anything for a while." He chuckled to himself, ignoring Hermione's next message. Judging by the furious strokes of her wrist, it would be no fun. Instead, he unbuckled his cloak and hung it on the hook behind his desk, then sat comfortably on his rolling chair, kicking his shiny dragon-hide boots up on the table.

"Rain again?" He glanced out the four-panelled window of their shared office, idyllically glamoured to appear like they weren't holed up underground like filthy weasels. "Let's commemorate this fortuitous day with sunshine." He swished his wand and a beacon of sunlight shot through the clouds and beamed into the room, forming a filmy rainbow beyond the glass.

Hermione raised her hand over her brow, sunlight dancing in her eyes. She lifted her wand and, with a clever display of wordless magic, made it rain again, shrouding the room in shadow.

Draco immediately changed it back.

Hermione held up the notebook. Stop that.

"I want sunshine."

Too bad. She changed it back to rain.

"Yeah, too bad for you." Draco coaxed his imaginary sun out again.

A tug of war ensued. Dense clouds sailed over the sun; stubborn sun rays poked through the thickness, until, eventually, office 22B's spurious outdoors exploded into a mesmerising and extremely bipolar sun shower. Meteorology Sorcerers would have found the phenomenon alarming, and powdered their noses for this once-in-a-lifetime career spectacle.

Steam all but shooting from her ears, Hermione pointed her wand above Draco's head and drew a squiggly shape, then zapped it to life with a spell. A thundercloud appeared, and with an explosive ka-boom, spewed out a most morose shower.

Frantic, Draco cast an Impervius Charm before the ink on his documents started to run, but his hair was another story, dripping and drooping over his forehead. "You're a menace! Can't you just be ill in peace?"

I would be fine if you weren't getting on my nerves.

He cast Finite Incantatum, vanishing her irksome, and frankly rude, weather attack. "When am I not getting on your nerves? Truly, I can't even say hello without making you angry. You've had it out for me since day one." He raised his voice over the whoosh of his blow drying spell, his hair swooping away from his eyes in the blast of heat.

You've had it out for me since we were 11.

He frowned at that.

Draco reached for the handle of his cumbersome bottom drawer, wrestling with it until it flew open, then fished out a piece of parchment. He wrote a brief note and slipped it into an envelope, dispatching it via office-wide mail service. The letter folded itself into a paper aeroplane and jet off, only to nose-dive straight into the door.