Crash and BurnThe second she slammed the door in his face, he knew that something was up. He had seen the flash of robes in the crack, knew that she did not own a single pair of dark, forest green robes, and he knew that he had to find a way to figure out just what was going on.
Annoyed that she had pushed him away, worried about her safety, he forced himself to slowly walk towards his room, easing the door open without making a single sound. He couldn't alert her to his current plans.
He had to keep fighting the urge to run, the desperate, aching need inside of him to sprint back to the door and bang repeatedly against it until it opened and allowed him to protect her.
He had to be slow, however. He had to be quiet, to not alert anyone of his presence or intention.
In spite of his rapidly beating heart, he tiptoed his way to the door leading to their shared bathroom, hoping that Hermione was too distracted to silence her bathroom door. He knew, from one particular occasion, that she had a tendency to forget locking it when changing.
It had been an accident; he had reminded her on several occasions. He could still remember her screaming at him, claiming that he was some pervert when all he had wanted was to ask if she had seen his Potion's book.
Although, he had to admit that she view of her naked back had been more than worth the pain of the curses she had thrown at him.
Shaking his head, forcing his thoughts back to the task as hand, he reached out to slowly open the door, praying to unseen forces that hers wasn't wide open.
Grinding his back teeth as the door creaked just the slightest; he took a deep breath before swinging it open. A small flood of relief washed through him when he saw the sight of her closed door and he made his way into the bathroom, grateful that tiles did not creak or groan.
He gently pressed his body against the door, continuously praying that he could hear whatever was going on in the room, adding further hopes that what was going on did not harm Hermione in any way or form.
"Everything! Christmas is ruined and it's all because you decided to stay behind!"
Fucking Potter…Draco almost growled at the sound of the green-eyed twit's voice, resisting the urge to throw himself in the room and on top of the brunet so he could pound the shit out of him.
How dare that conceited prick pin all of the blame on Hermione? Did he not realize that Ron was the one overreacting? Ron was so undeniably smitten by Hermione that the redheaded git allowed it to consume him.
The damn Weasel was being overdramatic and was in desperate need of a wake up call.
If only he were here now…Draco would give him a wake up call that he would never forget…
Tucking his lower lip between his teeth, he pressed his ear against the door, fighting off the urges to destroy Harry Potter as he listened to the brunet rant and rave to Hermione. How dare he come in and say things like that? Oh, sure, maybe he was 'wording it differently' now, but in the end, it all meant the same, right?
The bastard was blaming every little thing on Hermione and Hermione alone.
No, it wasn't Mrs. Weasley's fault for being an overreacting bitch. Nope, most definitely not Ginny's fault for being a stupid, annoying chit…although he had to figure that maybe the Weaslette was on her Bitch Week, so maybe she had some kind of an excuse for the exaggeration of her usual emotions and behaviour…
And it was obviously not Hermione's parents' fault for showing up without their daughter, assuming everything without actually knowing a thing.
'What do Muggles say about assuming again?' Draco wondered, absentmindedly tapping on his chin while searching for the thought. 'Ah, yes, if you assume you only make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'.' He chortled quietly, quickly stifling the sound in fear of being discovered.
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Merry Christmas Mr. Malfoy (Book 1)
Fanfiction"Granger, there's nothing special about Christmas. Christmas doesn't exist for us!" - Draco Malfoy has never had a real Christmas, and Hermione Granger has taken it upon herself to give him his first real Christmas. Dramione. (Original by:...