Hermione looked at all three men. "Parkinson? Perfect. I'd love to see her squirm for one of you, too. How galling would it be to her pride for any one of you three to touch her 'precious pure-blood limbs,' much less make her squirm under your mouths and hands?"
Harry looked at her with amusement. "Some days, you really scare me, 'Mione."
"She bloody terrifies me on a regular basis," Ron added.
Seamus snickered. "Are ya sure ya were sorted into th' right House, lass?"
Ignoring the ragging, Hermione shared a look with Ginny and Lavender, the three of them silently communicating their agreement to go ahead with the plan. When consensus had been reached, she turned back to Harry. "Tell that rat bastard that we're all in–to win."
X~~~~~~~~~X
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland Slytherin Boys Dorms (Draco Malfoy's room) Wednesday, June 10, 1998 (late evening)
The owl arrived to his window in the dorms that night about two hours after dinner. With a tiny bit of trepidation, Draco held the parchment in his hands. He threw a silent prayer to Slytherin that first, Potter and company had accepted his challenge, and second, that the predictable ponce had picked the one girl he was simply dying to lock horns (and other parts) with.
"Open it already!" Nott growled, brilliant cerulean eyes alight with anticipation. His tall, broad-shouldered frame hunched over at the waist, as he placed his palms down on the edge of the mattress and leaned in. "Go on!"
At the foot of the cot sat a silent, unruffled Blaise Zabini, unmoving, his attention on the note, not giving any indication that he was at all interested in the outcome of the challenge he'd been volunteered for by his best friend. Draco knew the façade to be a carefully crafted lie, however. Deep in the depths of his friend's usually enigmatic, dark brown stare, the same burning desire both he and Theo felt simmered.
With a flair for the dramatic, Draco opened the letter with slow deliberation. Reading its contents, his heart let out a loud and lusty shout of triumph. Beaming ear to ear, he read the response out loud.
Malfoy, We're on. If you chicken out, we'll let the whole school know it. Unless there's a need for a last minute substitution because of illness, here's our team roster: me, R. Weasley, S. Finnigan, H. Granger, L. Brown, and G. Weasley.
Be prepared for your arses to be handed to you,
- H. Potter
Theodore Nott hooted with laughter. "Gods, I can't wait to mess with Granger! That girl gets under my skin with her know-it-all attitude. I've been waiting a long time to put that little swot in her place."
Keeping his face as neutral as possible, Draco tamped down on the jealous surge through his guts. "If you're lucky enough to draw her name, she's all yours."
Of course, he wasn't going to announce it, but he had every intention of cheating to assure Granger and he ended up paired off. No onewas going to touch her except him. She was his. He'd waited years to finally get his hands on her.
He turned to Blaise. "Bet you can't wait to give it to the She-Weasel, especially after the last match."
As a Chaser, Ginny Weasley had been assigned to check Blaise any time they'd faced off across the Quidditch pitch. The two had formed an antagonistic relationship over the last two years since she'd joined the Golden Lions, one that was nearly as rancorous as Draco's own had been with Granger at the start of their school years.
Zabini's dark eyes glittered with a dark, unfamiliar emotion, and a small smile graced his full lips. "If I'm lucky enough to draw her name," he replied, using similar language to Draco's. In that moment, Draco knew the gig was up; his best friend suspected that he intended on cheating to arrange things in his favour. In the manner of Slytherins, though, his best friend was wordlessly conveying an offer to keep his mouth shut about the subterfuge in return for fixing the arrangement with Weasley for him as well. Draco nodded in silent understanding and acceptance.
"I have a good feeling about this," he casually announced. Dropping the parchment into his lap, he stretched his arms together over his head, cracking his knuckles by interlacing his long, pale fingers. "This'll be a game to remember."
Nott stood to grab a piece of parchment, his quill, and an ink bottle from his school bag, turning them over to Draco. "Let them know we're in agreement. I don't want any crying foul later that there wasn't an official accord."
Taking the items, Draco conjured a wooden lap board for writing and got down to penning a reply.
Potty,
Terms accepted, dandelion. Again, barring subs, our team is as follows: me, Zabini, Nott, Greengrass, Davis, and Parkinson.
Get ready to beg for mercy,
- D.M.
P.S. Don't forget to pack your hankies for when the crying starts.
X~~~~~~~~~X
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland Seventh Year's Defence Against The Dark Arts Classroom Thursday, June 11, 1998 (morning)
Harry glared across the aisle at Malfoy. Obviously bored as the rest of them, as classes had officially ended for seventh-years - all exams had been taken the previous week, and this week was simply a wrap-up and individual review of results; next week was personal counselling about every student's future options based on aptitude and N.E.W.T. scores, which were to come in on Monday morning, and handed out by Heads of Houses - the smug git had the audacity to throw a small, waded up piece of paper at the back of Hermione's head. From her seat two rows up, his best friend looked up at Professor Moody, noted the man was distracted by Terry Boot's final interview, and bent over to pick up the wad of paper. She opened it and read. Whatever it said made her stiffen and he could practically feel her ire from across the row.
She picked up her quill and scribbled something on it, then hiding the paper in the sleeve of her robe, she raised her hand. Harry glanced over at Malfoy, who tsk'dand sat back in his chair, knowing he was busted this time.
"What is it Miss Granger?" Moody asked, looking up from the paper in front of him.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Sir, I'm afraid I'm feeling a little dizzy. Since we've already had our review, may I go to the Hospital Wing to have a lie down for a bit?"
Moody stared hard at her for a second, and then nodded. "Potter, you're done as well, so escort your Housemate to Madam Pomfrey, to make sure she gets there safely." He returned to talking to Terry, ignoring everyone else, who sat around in groups and whispered, gossiping and making plans for the weekend and after graduation.
Harry stood without needing to be told twice. Truth be told, he was bored off his gourd. "Yes, sir."
Ron threw him a 'you lucky bastard!' expression and waved him off, then moved his chair back to Seamus, Neville, and Dean's little gathering one row back to join in their discussion about next Friday night's farewell Formal.
———————————————————
Don't want to wait?
Get the full chapters and extra content in my PDF store.
——————————————————
https://ko-fi.com/cmrowling