Her strides back to her dorm were bold and purposeful, building her up with adrenaline to ready her for a confrontation. Mumbling the password to the main door, ad lucem, she shoved open the door harder than necessary and her eyes found him instantly. Whatever she had expected to find him doing, this wasn't it.
He was perched on the counter separating the living space from her kitchenette with his hands braced at his sides. His shoulders were relaxed and his head slightly tilted to the side as he absently tapped one of his fingers against the mahogany surface. He hadn't noticed her, even after she had closed the door with a silent tug and taken some small steps into the room.
She craned her neck so she could catch the right side of his face, realising that his familiar scowl was still in place, darkening his features. She wondered briefly how his agitated expression could be so permanent, but then realised that her mouth had scarcely risen at the corners for several weeks. His scowl wasn't necessarily angry though, more concentrated than anything else.
Hermione peered a little closer, like he was a rare and dangerous bird that she had simply stumbled across. She followed his steadfast glare to nothing but the wall of white tiles. Her lips parted with a look of irritated confusion.
What the...
"What the hell are you doing?" she questioned sharply, watching as he flinched in surprise and snapped his head to look at her. Ah, there was the anger. Clearly she had disturbed him in some way, and he was furious about it. Her amber eyes flickered to the tiles again to see if she had missed something, but there wasn't so much as a blemish against the ivory ceramic.
"Bloody hell, Granger!" he roared, hopping off the wooden top with fluid movements. "I've lost count now, you stupid-
"Count?" she repeated, instinctively laying a hand over her pocketed wand. He didn't near her like she'd expected; just shifted his weight between his legs and regarded her impatiently about fifteen feet away. He still felt too close though. "What were you-
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he snapped quickly.
"I live here," she hissed, crossing to the sofa and dropping her heavy bag. "And I have some work to do, so leave me alone-
"And where exactly would you have me go?" he countered, folding his arms over his chest. He rolled his shoulders like he was preparing for a brawl, and she could see his muscles rhythmically fluctuate under the grey polo neck.
"I really couldn't care less," she answered crisply. "Go yo your room-
"Why should I?" Draco growled, eyeing her with a calculating glare. "You can come and go as you please, so you should go somewhere else-
"This is my room, Malfoy!" she yelled, balling her fists defiantly. "You're just here because the Order feels sorry for you!"
He snarled. "I'm here because you bloody morons can't mind your own business!" he shouted. "Always sticking your noses in and thinking you're helping-
"We are helping you!"
"Well, I don't WANT you're fucking help!" Draco screamed, his tone loud and reverberating amongst the dorm's antique acoustics. "I NEVER wanted your help-
"Well, you've got it," she interrupted calmly, unable to help the haughtiness to her voice. "So stop complaining like the spoilt brat you are and-
"Piss off-
"I'm waiting for you to piss off," the witch retorted. "I need to do some work-
"Why don't you go into your room?" he asked snidely, taking a long stride towards her. "Or better yet, sod off to the Tower with the rest of your dickhead friends-
"Because I shouldn't have to-
"Why do you Gryffindors always insist on making things more difficult?" he questioned, completely serious. "You're always chasing trouble and it's so bloody stupid, and then you wonder why people are always trying to kill you-
"I can understand that you would find it difficult to understand," Hermione said slowly, lifting her chin. "That we're brave enough to stand up for what we-
"Don't patronise me, Granger," he rolled his eyes. "Bravery, my arse. You and those feckless idiots crossed the line into stupidity a long time ago-
"Don't you dare call me stupid," she scowled, removing her hand from her pocket to point a scolding finger in his direction. "I am not-
"Very well," he mumbled, taking her back for a second. "You might have some brain cells to rub together, but the Orphan and the Pauper are just bloody useless-
"Don't call them-
"And there's a lot to be said about your shoddy little group," he continued, taking another stride towards her. "When it's the sodding Mudblood who has the brains!"
The Muggle instinct coasting through her blood goaded her to reach for the mug on the table and hurl it in his direction. And she threw it hard; harder than she had probably thrown anything in her life. But he dodged it. Bastard. She watched it shatter against the wall behind him. Pretty white china raining down with a few splinters of wood. She snapped her fire-gold eyes back to him, vibrating with uninhibited anger when she saw the amusement tugging at his features.
"I won't tell you again, Malfoy," she spat, reining in her stormy impulses to hex him here and now. "Go to your room and let me get on with my work-
"Touch a nerve there, Granger?" he drawled smugly. "Was it the Mudblood, or my comment about the twat twins?"
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