A Spoonful of Sugar

Title: Unintentional

Author: bleu-bella

Created: August 15th, 2010

Completed: September 2nd, 2010

Word Count: 2,000

Author's Note: I'm not sure if Hermione's only detention was in first year 8( and I'm not quite sure which year this is, either. It's like fifth, but without Umbridge. (?) Even I'm confused, so don't be too hard on me, haha. Many thanks to one Eddie Izzard for providing a spot of humor in the lives of Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy.

Also, I feel oddly inspired to contribute to Rain, Rain, Don't Go Away, so be prepared!

Also also, much thanks to Sindri Már Sigfússon for his extraordinary music, which has propelled much of my creativity as of late.

"I expect you want me to apologize, or something of the sort," drawled one smugly smirking Draco Malfoy.

"And if I did?" spat one sorely put-out Hermione Granger.

"Well," he drawled, only half-fighting his snicker, "You'd be most soundly disappointed, I'm afraid. You see, it's not every day that I'm awarded such a perfect opportunity to ridicule and humiliate one of your, ah, social standing."

"Then, by all means, ridicule and humiliate away, you pathetic excuse for a flobberworm."

"Ah-ah, temper, Granger. You wouldn't want this situation to get out of control, now would you?"

"How DARE you even suggest taking advantage of-"

"Oh please, don't let your fantasies run away with you-"

"As if-"

"What on Godric's Name is going on here?"

Draco's gaze was frozen, watching as Granger's face drained of all color, then immediately flooded with too much, as they stared at one another in abject horror.

Approximately One Hour Earlier…

It was nearly daybreak as Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slipped out of bed. The faint rose tint peeking around the curtains of Gryffindor Tower was hardly enough for Hermione to see what she was doing, but somehow she managed to grab a change of clothing, toiletries, and some other necessities.

Slipping quickly out of the dormitory, so as not to wake the other girls, she slipped down the spiral staircase, into the common room, and out of the portrait hole.

It was rare that Hermione took advantage of the amenities provided for those of prefect status, as those for regular students often turned out to be much more convenient when it came to her busy schedule. However, today was a Saturday, and like most Saturdays, she was going to take full advantage of the Prefect girl's bathroom before joining Harry and Ron for their trip to Hogsmeade.

Slipping behind the Captive Unicorn's tapestry on the fourth floor, she tapped her wand against the chip in one of the stones. It immediately began to stretch into an ornately carved archway, depicting twisting and crashing waves filled with fantastic (and frightening) marine-like creatures. She stepped through and into the cavernous space.

The floor was a rippling creation of deep greens and lovely blues, all swirling and shimmering in their mosaic patterns. The far end sunk into the floor to create the bath, with dials and spouts lining the gleaming marble wall. Some simple vanilla armchairs sat around a low marble table near the now-closed entrance. A generous shelf of fluffy white towels was near the bath. The entire room was bathed in the soothing green-blue light that soaked through the beautiful stained glass windows.

Hermione hummed with contentment as she set down her things and turned on the water dial. Immediately, several fountains of steaming water gushed forth, making short work of filling the bath as she stripped off her clothes. Toeing the water before sliding in, she ducked her head once before twisting the knob for the honeysuckle bubble bath.

It was a lovely experience to float on her back amidst the sweet-smelling bubbles, listening to the faint hiss of the steaming water swirling around her. It was times like this, as she felt the aches and pains in her shoulders and back melt away, that she loved just letting the seconds slip by.

Of course, responsibility always had its ways of sneaking back in. It wasn't too long before Hermione remembered that both Harry and Ron had early Quidditch practice for a short period of time- time which she should be taking advantage of. Her Arithmancy essay certainly wasn't going to write itself, and she really should fetch that book on human transfiguration for McGonagall's next class on Tuesday…

With a gusty sigh, she swam over to her shampoo and poured a generous amount into her palm, making short work of the reason she had come for a bath in the first place. She quickly rinsed the soap from her hair and skin beneath one of the more shower-like faucets, then grabbed one of the towels to dry herself off.

Hermione scolded herself for not grabbing proper clothes for late fall, as she pulled on her jeans and a light quarter-sleeved shirt. I'll just have to get a sweater before breakfast, she thought, gathering her things into her arms. Quickly draining the tub, she made her way out of the bathroom and began heading up the stairs back to the common room.

It really was a privilege he enjoyed more than he should, being able to prowl the hallways under the guise of prefect duties. But Draco couldn't deny that there was something more magical than classes and wand-waving and pure blood that drew him to Hogwarts, something indescribable but understood by everyone sitting under the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall and walking over the vast stone corridors that twisted and turned through the mysterious castle.

It was somewhat of a pet peeve of his, when something couldn't be explained. He simply could not accept that there were mysteries incapable of being defined, even by him. Everything had it's own right place, or so he had been taught since the moment he first drew breath. And he'd be damned if he couldn't do the same for a bloody building.

It was just as he was contemplating how one may quantify just what made Hogwarts so magical that something warm and smelling of honeysuckle collided with his person. Taken completely by surprise, he reached out and grabbed the hem of a rather thin shirt as the warm honeysuckle thing made to move backwards, recognized the damp bushy hair covering the face of his assailant, and promptly tumbled down the flight of stairs that were right behind one Hermione Granger.

"It's not what it looks like-"

"I didn't mean to tear her shirt-"

"It really isn't what it looks like-"

"We only fell down the stairs-"

"I wasn't paying attention-"

"I was dead at the time-"

"Enough!" Commanded Professor McGonagall, looking down her nose at the two miserable teens who were frozen in the act of scrambling for their dignity.

"Detention, both of you. I expect to see you in my office in one hour, or the consequences will be dire."

"But, Professor-"

"No buts, Miss Granger! Such behavior is highly inappropriate for two prefects to be exhibiting for anyone to see." With this verdict passed, she turned and strode away, her emerald green robes swirling around her feet.

"Oh, well done, Malfoy! I haven't had a detention since first year!" Hermione growled, scooting as far as she could from him and pulling out her wand. He flinched before realizing she was just mending the collar of her shirt, which, in it's more tattered state had revealed an astonishingly feminine bit of lace that decorated her bra… He shook his head.

"Don't blame this all on me, prissy-pants. You were the one who ran into me!"

"If you were actually paying attention, I wouldn't have run into you!"

"Well if you were-"

"Oh shut it, would you? Bottom line is, if you hadn't been sitting on me," at this, she shuddered, "In the hopes of being more of a self-absorbed prat than is even usual for you, my whole day wouldn't be a complete disaster!" She stood up rather abruptly, almost clocking the seething Draco in the nose as she snatched her things from the floor and strode off, irritation rolling off of her in waves.

Breakfast was a gloomy affair at best. After stumbling through excuses to Harry and Ron about how McGonagall had caught her "fighting" with Malfoy and no she was perfectly alright and they did not need to make the situation any worse and she'd grievously underestimated her workload for the weekend anyway and she was so sorry and no, Ronald, I do not want a Fainting Fancy, Hermione forced herself to eat a bit of toast before making her way to the Deputy Headmistress' office.

Not entirely of her own will, she found her gaze wandering in the direction of Slytherin table. Malfoy wasn't difficult to miss- he had quite a few followers that flocked to him whenever possible. His platinum blonde head of hair stood out quite effectively, all the better for Hermione to sneer at.

How dare he be such a disgusting, self-righteous pig! Today was going to be relaxing and lovely and-

"Ermyonee," Ron mumbled around toast and eggs, "Oo've go' den minutes."

"Eeh!" She cried in dismay, standing abruptly and almost tripping over the bench in her haste. "Have fun, you two!" She called behind her as she raced off to the sixth floor.

"You'll either be cleaning the trophy room or assisting in the infirmary, today- take your pick-"

"Trophy room," Draco spat out as soon as he saw Granger's mouth open. He smirked as she hissed with displeasure at the prospect of bedpans and sample sorting.

McGonagall eyed the two over her glasses. "How very, ah, noble of you, Mr. Malfoy. Off you go, you two. Madame Pomfrey and Mr. Filch will be waiting for you."

Draco did his best to contain his glee as Granger fumed and stomped down the hallway in front of him. "Really, Granger, you must learn to control that temper of yours."

"I don't have a temper, you parasitic twit!" She growled, glaring at him over her shoulder. "Will you ever grow up? No, no, I shouldn't ever expect that…" He chuckled lightly.

"Now, now. If you'd just give it a chance, you muddy little girl, you'd find that I can be quite… Mature." The heat was rising in her cheeks; his smile widened. Oh, how dreadfully hilarious it was to provoke her…

"Draco Malfoy, you will always be the scum on my shoes. I can't believe it's possible for someone to be so completely and happily bad, but I guess I was wrong to think even pathetic little worms like you have feelings."

He stared open-mouthed at her retreating figure, forgetting, for a moment, just exactly where he was.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry called from the armchairs by the fire as he saw his friend slip through the portrait hole.

"Oh, hey, Harry." She fell into the chair beside his, closing her eyes and slipping into a slouch. She looked exhausted, and a little sad.

"What did you have to do?"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked over at him, smiling slightly. "Oh, nothing terrible, actually. Madame Pomfrey had me brew some basic medicinal potions. It was quite relaxing, really. She's really very… nice." Her eyes drifted to the fireplace, watching the flames flicker and caress the burning logs.

To be continued...

A/N: lol Lauren Lopez. 8D