Falling From Grace

Chapter One: Flower Bushes and Sadistic Murmurings

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Our marvelous Head Girl, Hermione Granger.

Our tantalizing Head Boy, Draco Malfoy.

In the past, previous Head Boys and Girls had ended up falling in love, getting married -- you know, that sort of lovey-dovey stuff. Two examples would be Lily Evans and James Potter, and Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater. Oh look, Potter and Clearwater rhyme... Anyway, these two were the least likely to fall in love and have children, especially ones with either bushy brown hair and grey eyes or light blonde hair and brown eyes -- or a mixture of both, with dirty blonde hair that was bushy and brown eyes flecked with grey. Please, allow me to humor myself for a while. The two of them had loathed each other with every spare fiber of their being for about.. oh, say, six and a half years? Their loathing for each other only increased with every slap, hex, or injury Malfoy received from Granger and from every insult (Mudblood -- Draco wasn't that creative when it came to insulting people) passed from Malfoy to Granger, therefore instigating every slap, hex or injury Malfoy received. Whoever thought that their relationship as Head Boy and Head Girl would make them nicer to each other was surely either drunk, insane, or high at the time they made that prediction.

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"I really think you've proved your point, Malfoy. There's no need to continue ranting on about flower bushes and how Hogwarts doesn't need them. So I say we just agree to disagree on the decision about the flower bushes, okay?" Hermione was obviously vexed.

"I just don't see why we would need them! I mean, honestly, every time you turn around you see either Peeves, a suit of armor, or flowers! It's a nightmare when you run into one of those flower bushes and get the living daylights scratched out of you because it's got thorns or is teething!" By teething, he meant the Non-Venomous Tentacula that Professor Sprout had just taken stock of. "Begging your pardon, Headmaster, but I don't see why you'd want more flowers! The school is full of them! You wouldn't be able to plant them anyway, the ground is practically frozen!"

The Prefects from fifth year and up and the Head students were having one of their weekly Prefect meetings. All around the room, as far as the eye could see, you spotted a silver, shiny Prefect badge or a Head Boy or Girl badge glistening in the candle- and firelight. The only person in attendance not possessing one of these prized badges was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who was standing off to one side of the room, a small smile of amusement on his face. This was from the sheer fact that Draco Malfoy was getting so hot and bothered by the single, simple suggestion that he had made, and that was that Hogwarts needed more flower bushes.

"Ah, but Mr. Malfoy, could you not plant them in the springtime?" Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling with humor from behind his half-moon spectacles.

"That's not the point! The point is that Hogwarts needs no more flowers!" Huff. Draco was Not Pleased. Yes, with a capital N and P, bold.

"Malfoy, you do know that they could just get more flowers next year.. anyway, why are you getting so angry about flowers?" Lisa Turpin, the seventh year Ravenclaw Prefect, asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Really, Malfoy, it's not a life-or-death matter. It's just flowers," Harry Potter, the seventh year Gryffindor Prefect, added, smirking.

"Shut up, Potter, I wasn't asking for a comment from you," he sneered, not even looking away from Hermione. She seemed to be thinking of something to say to him.

"Malfoy.. why don't we just.. agree to disagree on the matter," Hermione repeated, continuing, "Like Harry said, it's not a life-or-death situation. We can get flowers next year."

Pansy Parkinson, the seventh year Slytherin Prefect, chose this moment to butt in. "Who

should care what Draco wants? I say we get flowers this year," she snapped. She'd been angry with Draco since he'd chucked her not long after the Yule Ball in their fourth year. What a long time to hold a grudge.

"You shut up, too, Pansy. Oh, great, your name is even a flower! The damned things just bloody surround me! I can't get away from them, can I?" He turned on heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Christ, what crawled up his arse and died.." muttered Gracie-Lou Friedbush, the Hufflepuff fifth year ( girl's ) Prefect, to the other fifth years around her. They all nodded.

"Miss Granger, I'm going to have to ask you to go after him and bring him back. We have other matters to discuss in this meeting," said Dumbledore softly at her side, the amusement from Draco's disagreement touching his voice. "As you know, the New Year's Ball is only two days away and we haven't agreed on what kind of musical entertainment we wanted.."

"Is it necessary?" She didn't want to go after him. She hated the boy!

"Yes."

"Oh, alright.." She went out the door.

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Hermione had been wandering the halls for at least an hour looking for the nasty little bugger. She was beginning to give up when she came across a slew of unused classrooms, and, hearing grunts and heavy breathing, walked up to a door that was nearly all the way closed. She saw a blonde-haired boy -- young man, really -- beating the living daylights out of a punching bag. Since when do Slytherins who pride themselves on having pure blood own Muggle devices to get their anger out?, she thought, shaking her head before pushing the door open a bit more, then tapping on it. A quick intake of breath reached her ears before he turned around, and, upon seeing her, a scowl made itself present upon his features.

"What do you want, Granger? If you've come here to take me back to that God-forsaken meeting, I'm not going, because I don't want to argue about flowers anymore." He said this quite carelessly before turning around, delivering a nice, firm punch to the middle of the punching bag. Of course, this would cause the thing to swing backwards, followed by swinging back to its original position, but with more force -- ergo, he was presented with a heavy blow to his groin area. He doubled over in pain, gasping, cheeks flushing dark pink with embarrassment.

"If you must know, that's what I came here fo--" She cut off rather abruptly, torn between laughing and asking him if he was alright when he was hit in the crotch with a punching bag. From what she'd heard from conversations between Harry and Ron, getting hit and/or kicked in the crotch was not a nice experience. That revelation from the two of them had been a turn-off.. not that she had been attracted to them. She stood there rather awkwardly, a furious debate going on inside her head about this before she finally blurted out, "Are you alright?" in a half-concerned tone.

"Oh, yes, of course I'm alright! Never you mind that I was just hit in the crotch with a 100-kilogram bag full of sand!" Draco gasped angrily, not bothering to turn around and face her. Oh, wonderful, you just had to hit it so God-blessed hard and make it hit you in the bloody nuts right in front of Granger, didn't you? It'll be all over school by tomorrow morning, he thought, scowling.

Jesus tap dancing Christ, this boy needs some manners, she thought, glaring at him. "I was just asking if you were alright. You didn't have to get shirty with me," she replied snippily. "Besides, what's wrong with someone asking that? I was trying to help you.. Holy.." She trailed off as he finally regained his composure and turned around. Hermione realized that he was only standing there in a pair of boxers and a tank top.. and thought sinfully that he looked exceptionally handsome in it, too.

He found this amusing, seeing her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. He wondered what was going through her mind. Smirking, he said, "What's wrong, Granger? Never seen a man wearing nothing but his knickers and a tank top before? Certainly you did something more than snog with Krum.. and you mean to tell me that Weasley and Potter haven't tried anything with you?" He was a ruthless little bastard.

She gasped, eyes going even wider at this. "How dare you even think that Ron or Harry would even attempt to do that with me! I've never even thought of them in that way! How could I, they're my best friends!" Of course, now that he had slid that insinuation into her mind, she pictured Harry coming down into the common room wearing nothing but black boxers. Shuddering, she forced herself to think about the witch-burnings in the 1600s, a mean feat to do whilst seeing your best friend strutting about in his knickers.

"What's the matter, Granger? Afraid of commitment? Think that if someone gets too close to you they'll either hurt you or die? Don't try to lie to me, Granger. I heard you talking to the Weasley girl after Krum chucked you. You haven't even thought of getting into any type of sexual relationship since then, have you? Not that you've had any sexual relationships.. unless Krum decided he wanted a nice shag before he let go of you?"

He had been moving closer to her while saying this, that smirk that she despised on his face the whole time. At this comment, she turned scarlet and closed the distance between them, bringing her hand up and giving him a sharp slap across the face. "You are a nasty, perverted, and sadistical piece of Slytherin scum, d'you know that, Malfoy?" she said bitterly, turning on heel and exiting the room, the door slamming behind her.

"I knew it.. I'm just surprised it took you this long to find out," he muttered softly, returning to the punching bag and continuing to beat the shit out of it.

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December 29, 1997

Hello, Journal. Thought I would inform you about tonight's miserable -- though quite funny, now that I think about it -- Prefect meeting. And it all started with flower bushes..

Dumbledore suggested that we should get more flower bushes for the gardens, right? We had just started to take this matter under consideration when Malfoy decides to blurt out that there are too many flowers in the school. I try to agree to disagree with him, and he goes off, and starts ranting about it.. about how whenever he turns around he either sees a suit of armor, Peeves, or another flower bush. He was acting really quite childish. It was amusing, until Dumbledore decided to tell me to go find him after he stormed out.

So I spent at least an hour searching the castle for him, and finally found him in an abandoned classroom, beating the living daylights out of a punching bag. He turned around and started making comments about the meeting, and then, he turned around, punched it really hard, and then.. it went flying backwards, then forwards again and into his crotch. You know, I could've laughed then ( don't know why I didn't ), but I asked him if he was all right. He started getting shirty with me, and I decided I was going to leave, until I saw he was standing there in his knickers. God, I don't know why, but I keep picturing him, standing in the dim classroom, wearing his knickers. It's oddly satisfying, but then I think about how he made me picture Harry in his boxers and am suddenly revolted. I used to dream about seeing Harry in his boxers, but now that I've imagined it, it's not as rewarding. But Malfoy..

Anyway, he started making rather perverted comments about what Krum and I did -- and didn't -- do, so I slapped him across the face and left. I had the odd sensation to kiss him before I slapped him, though.

Oh, Jesus, what's wrong with me?

P.S. - And when I went back to the meeting without him, Dumbledore said to forget about it. Then he started talking about how I needed to tell Malfoy that I had to dance with him at the Ball. Dance with Malfoy?!

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December 29, 1997

Granger's rather sexy when she gets angry. I couldn't stop looking at her during our argument about flowers in the Student Conference Room, and when she came looking for me, she saw my fall from grace -- getting hit in the crotch -- and asked me if I was all right. And then it all leads down to the end right before she slapped me.. I felt like pushing her down and shagging her. And then, the New Year's Ball is the day after tomorrow.. I wonder what she'll be wearing. Merlin, what's wrong with me?