Knots In Our Heartstrings [Dramione]

High Expectations

"Hey. It's just me. Call me back when you get this. You still owe me ravioli."

"Hey," Pansy breathed, all breathy and elaborate as she draped herself over the counter, sliding her forearms over it until her hands hung over the edge. "It's just me," she said, head tilted low and her mouth hanging open slightly as she looked up through her eyelashes. "Call me back when you get this." She pushed her chin forward, letting her head loll to the side just as slightly as she did so. Then she bit her lip between her teeth, and let it drag there slowly before slipping free as she twitched and forced down a smirk. And then she whispered, all loud, but still unmistakably a whisper, "You still owe me ravioli."

Draco stood there, his phone still held outstretched in one hand, the other holding a to-go coffee cup. He should have probably showered – definitely wished he'd had a shower. But Pansy had set him a strict curfew that he daren't miss. So he'd settled for a scouring charm. But then, when he stood there, listening to her moan out one final punctuated "Ahh!" over her countertop, he wished he had taken his time with a shower that morning – hell, he wished he had taken his time with a bath, because maybe then she'd be hunting him for sport, instead of reciting her dramatic reenactment of his voicemail.

"It's not like that," he huffed, whined really.

Pansy reeled back, just enough so that her hands could rest flat against the counter once more.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. And then she snapped her head to Theo, who had been sat cross-legged on the counter when he walked in, eating instant porridge out of a little cardboard cup, using the little tin-foil lid as a makeshift spoon. "Theo, did it not sound exactly like that?"

Theo shrugged out a disrespectfully un-subtle smirk and licked the tin-foil makeshift spoon clean before diving back into the pot for more porridge. "Oh it sounded exactly like that," he said, staring down into the little cup as he continued to dig. He was wearing the same trousers from the night before, and what has decidedly a pair of Pansy's lavender crochet socks in place of his shoes, and a fluffy dressing gown. He looked up at him sharply when he'd finished scavenging his next mouthful of porridge, looked him dead in the eye as he repeated, "Exactly," before laughing through his next bite.

"It's not like that," he said, again.

Pansy just laughed and threw herself back to rest against the shelving behind her. She leaned forward just once, to retrieve her coffee cup, and then settled herself amidst the floral displays once more, arms crossed over her chest as she drank slowly. "What's it like then?" She shrugged. "Your secret relationship with Granger."

"It's not a secret re–"

"–Oh!" She cut him off sharply, head snapping to the side as she glowered at him over the top of her coffee cup. Maybe, he thought, maybe she was going to kill him after all. "Theo, did you know anything about this secret relationship with Granger?"

"It is not–"

"First I'm hearing about it, Pans."

"Maybe Blaise is the only one privy to information about your secret relationship with Granger."

"It is not," Draco finally said, "A secret relationship."

Pansy slurped loudly at her coffee, and Theo continued laughing into his porridge.

"What is it, then?" Pansy said. "If not a secret relationship, what is it?"

He stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

He was so happy it had survived the night; revived through a box of rice.

Even his MP3 player was working still. One of the earbuds sounded a bit crackly, like maybe there was still a little bit of river water lodged in there somewhere. But it was fine, mostly.