A/N- Wow, it's been a while since I posted anything on If I misspell anything, its because I'm on this weird computer that I don't know how to work spellchecker on. Deal.
Disclaimer- Don't own anything, wish I did.
Summary- A two-shot about Hermione and Draco's dislike for each other. Hermione walks in on Draco being destructive and they both get a shock. Implied Dramione at the end of chapter two. This is only a two-shot, nothing more.
Jackknifed
I don't know how I'm going to get all of this done. Hermione scowled to herself, heaving her bag just a little higher up onto her shoulder. I can't believe all this work Snape gave us- utterly impossible. Rubbish, all of it.
Hermione blearily trudged down the corridor to the Entrance Hall. Not only had she finished her Potions essay at nearly one in the morning but Crookshanks had decided to wake her up some three hours after; sleep, it seemed, had been purely unattainable.
It was one of those times where her eyelids felt so heavy. Hermione leaned against the wall and let her head droop.
"Perhaps if I just stand here," She murmured to no one in particular. "I won't have to go to class." Grimacing, Hermione chastised herself for that. Not go to class? With a small smile and a sigh, she shook her head. I really need some sleep.
Looking around at the tall pained windows, Hermione's sleepy mood was not improved. It was one of those days, which, in all its grey color, seemed to be stuck at seven o'clock in the morning when it was early afternoon.
Hermione was instantly distracted from her musings by a faint rustle emanating from one of the empty classrooms along the corridor. Moving forward a few feet, she noticed one of the doors was open a fraction, just a sliver.
Idiot first years. Hermione thought scathingly. Don't they know they shouldn't be in empty classrooms? Snogging probably.
Shaking her head, Hermione closed her eyes and pushed the door of the classroom open, gently shutting it as she began to speak.
"If any of the Professors find you in here, alone, without a teacher you'll get detention! As a Prefect-" She slowly trailed off as she glanced up and into the room.
"What would a filthy little mudblood be thinking by chastising me?"
Draco Malfoy was lounging casually on a vacant desk, his legs slung over one side while his elbows propped him up, staring at the door. His bag was on the ground in the middle of the classroom, surrounded by more empty seats. With an almost languish motion he rounded his wand on her and smirked.
Oh no. Hermione went to turn to the door.
"I could easily hex you, mudblood, you know? They wouldn't even hear you scream." Malfoy tilted his chin up a fraction, his pale eyes glinting with malice. Hermione stopped and turned back around, her face livid.
"I would curse you into oblivion Granger." He continued. "Yet, I find it so disturbing to waste my good talents on the likes of you." With that, Malfoy lowered his wand to what he had been doing before being so rudely interrupted.
Pointing his wand at a desk a few rows away from him, he made a small jackknife dance and twirl on the surface of the wood. The way the varnish groaned as it was peeled away from the desk made Malfoy smile sickeningly.
So that was it then. Hermione watched him as he seemed to ignore her. He was just ditching classes in order to- what- be destructive? Pratt.
Hermione shoved her books into her already bulging bag and stalked over to where the knife was destroying the school property. She hovered over it, glancing at Malfoy who just watched her.
It was carving the Slytherine crest. How original. Hermione thought scathingly. As she glared at it, it twisted a jumped, finished with the picture and starting on something new, something else.
The blade, pure silver with an emerald green handle dipped into the table, its long blade molding scratches into elegant letters.
D-I-E. The way the handle caught in the light made Hermione sick. M-U-D-B-L-
Without another thought Hermione, near revolution, thrust her hand out to wrench away blade from table. She grasped the cold green steel and pulled. The bewitched blade frantically twisted itself in her grasp, cutting a long line across her forefinger before Hermione dropped it with a quiet gasp.
"Stupid mudblood!" Draco spat at her as he leaned off the table, striding forward and bending down to pick up the blade. Hermione clutched her bleeding finger tightly. "I would appreciate if you wouldn't get your mudblood germs all over my-" Malfoy hadn't un-enchanted the knife yet and as he reached down to pick it up it, the silver blade danced into the meat of his palm, still trying to carve out the remaining letters of 'blood'. He hissed in disgust at the tingeing pain. Hermione flicked her wand and the blade lay still within his slit palm.
"See what kind of messes you always make, Granger?"
Hermione bit her lip. Surely he was furious at her now. Why had she even reached for the knife? She watched Malfoy as he slowly rose up from his crouched position, nearly towering over her, his blonde hair glinting in the torchlight, his eyes stone cold.
"Filthy, disgusting, clumsy, intrusive mud-"
Malfoy stopped, staring down at his hand. The blade, shinning, impervious, mocked them. Both Hermione's blood and Malfoy's lay on the sharp edge of the knife, two distinct smears joined. The mixed blood seemed to infuriate Hermione but, as she looked at Malfoy, her unexplainable rage slowly died.
He was studying that smear, that mix of blood with all his attention. Hermione watched him, intently, not wanting to say anything lest it snap him out of his trance and he continue to belittle her.
Without a word, Malfoy reached down with his uncut hand and passed a finger over the blade, the smear of mixed blood staining his skin. Silently, he brought his finger to his mouth and let the bloods touch his lips.
Hermione let out a small noise, somewhere between disgust and confusion. Instantly Malfoy rounded on her, both his hands dropped and he just stared, looking dumbfounded at her, his expression blank, his eyes wide, as if he couldn't believe he had just done that. As if he couldn't believe he had just done that in front of her, in front of Granger.
Despite his forlorn gaze, Hermione couldn't help herself. "What, Malfoy? Surprised my blood doesn't taste like dirt? Like mud? Surprised that they taste the same, yours and mine?" Hermione's flare of bitter resentment towards Malfoy was short lived.
With a look of utter loathing and anger Malfoy raised his arm to her, the one holding the knife. With a surprised noise Hermione winced away, but the blade went flying over her shoulder, clattering against the stone wall and ricocheting off to lie among the empty desks.
Eyes wide with shock and fear Hermione clutched her bag to her and sprinted to the classroom door. As she wrenched it open, she glanced back. Malfoy was sitting awkwardly against one of the desks, his face in his hands, a part of his hair streaked with red.
First part finished, the last part up soon, I'm already half way done with it. R&R!