Drabble With Myself

Part One: Luna/Snape "Or if you like...we don't have to talk at all."

"I would never want to," said the blonde girl cheerfully as she scrubbed on yet another cauldron.

"Want to what?" asked Snape.

He hated detentions with this girl, but she always seemed to deserve them, and before her could stop himself the words would be out.

"To become a potions teacher," she replied.

She was a ceaseless chatterbox, and he hated her constant talking more than anything. He had been a rather quiet child, and the invasion of his precious silence made him feel rather peeved.

"And why is that?"

The worst part of it all was that she always seemed to find a way to get him to respond to her, to drag him into the conversation. He wanted to ignore her, but countless times, he found himself speaking to her when he'd usually rather not.

"Well, in your case, it seems to give you a nasty disposition towards everything."

He frowned. "I'll have you know that potion-making is a very noble art, and I am proud to be teaching it to others."

The girl continued, ignoring the disdain in his voice. She hummed as she worked. "Well, you certainly don't show it."

He glared at his paper and tried to focus.

She set down her scouring pad and grinned triumphantly. "Finished."

"Smile all you want," he said. "You'll be back here soon enough with plenty of cauldrons..."

She gave him a searching look and walked over to him.

"Do you really hate me as much as you pretend?" She sat on his desk. "Or do you give me detentions because you enjoy my company?"

He scowled at her.

"I can't imagine many people talk to you with your icy appearance." She touched his nose. "I know better. You enjoy talking to me, and I enjoy talking to you."

Snape flushed, staring harder into his papers.

Luna bent forward and gave him a rather fetching grin. "So I'll see you here tomorrow then?"

He paled as she kissed his cheek and skipped toward the door.

"Perhaps you can do the talking," she said. "Or if you like...we don't have to talk at all."

Part Two: Hermione/Trelawney "Is something wrong, child?"

"Or if you like we don't have to talk at all," said Professor Trelawney eagerly. "We can just meditate. Basking in the glory of the divine prophets!"

Hermione scowled. "Professor, I didn't come here for a lesson."

Trelawney appeared confused. "You haven't returned to continue your studies?"

"I hate this class, Professor. I'm never coming back."

She fiddled with her glasses and sat down. "Oh."

Hermione remained standing. "I'm here about Harry."

"Mr. Potter?"

The Gryffindor tried to restrain her disgust at that smoky voice. "Yes," she said. "Lately, you seem to be putting odd notions in his head."

Trelawney seemed to be studying her carefully.

Hermione continued. "About death. I came here to tell you to stop. It won't do Harry any good if you keep spouting out prophecies of his death--"

"On the contrary, Miss Granger--"

"I'm not here to argue," Hermione cut in forcefully. "Your stupid claims have done enough."

The older woman seemed taken aback for a moment. "Very well," she sniffed. "I will refrain from sharing my...visions with Mr. Potter."

Hermione turned toward the door in relief.

"But only if you study Divinations again."

She frowned and looked back at the beaming professor.

"For Harry's sake," she muttered.

"Good," said Trelawney. "We will start immediately with a crystal gazing lesson."

Hermione sat across from her, fuming.

Trelawney stared into her crystal ball mistily.

"I see love of a most interesting nature," she murmured. "One whom you hate will become something more..."

Hermione scoffed.

"You do not believe me?" inquired the professor.

"If you are so gifted with foresight, who will this most glorious love be?"

"Only you yourself can see that."

Trelawney gestured for Hermione to look into the crystal haze.

The Gryffindor sighed in exasperation but complied.

She was most surprised to see a shadowy figure manifesting in the bauble. She leaned forward to get a closer look, the tip of her nose nearly touching the glassy surface.

It was a woman. She was leaning against a window pane, gazing into the light silently.

Hermione blinked, trying desperately to decipher who the woman could be.

She frowned as the crystal ball once again grew hazy.

Professor Trelawney had a cheerful glint to her eyes as Hermione looked up. "Perhaps the art of Divination holds interest for you yet?"

Hermione remained silent, refusing to admit anything.

Trelawney stood. "I suppose that is enough for one day. I will see you tomorrow."
Hermione moved toward the door. "And Harry?"

"Will hear no more from me," the woman replied.

The girl seemed satisfied with this answer and continued to leave.

Professor Trelawney walked over to the window as Hermione made it to the door.

The Gryffindor stopped.

It was the woman from the crystal, leaning against the window. The light played across her face perfectly.

Trelawney gave her a confounded look. "Is something wrong, child?"

Part Three: Draco/Ginny "I am surprised."

"Is something wrong, child?" asked the shopkeeper.

A rather anxious Draco scowled. "No, and I am not a child."

The woman rolled her eyes. "With the way you're carrying on it's a wonder you're not still in your nappies."

"Shut up."

Draco turned away and studied the window. He was sure he had seen that horrid girl again.

"Your robes," chimed the shopkeeper cheerfully.

He snatched up the parcel and trudged out the door.

The bell gave a satisfactory ring, announcing his exit to the pedestrians outside.

After dolling out the proper amount of glares, Draco briskly made his way down to his hotel. School began in a week, and he so hated to travel in anything but steady increments.

"Good afternoon, sir," said the friendly woman at the front desk.

"Piss off," he said, grabbing a handful of complementary mints as he breezed past.

She paled but continued to smile. "Thank you, sir."

His suite always provided the necessary solitude. Like his father, Draco always insisted on the best, and as long as it had at least three Jacuzzis, he was happy.

He sighed and tossed his parcel onto a nearby chair before collapsing on the bed.

Sleep glided over his consciousness, and for a moment, the only thing on his mind was "Zzzzz...."

"Hello, Draco."

His head shot up. "What?"

His eyes widened as he spotted his visitor.

"You!" he managed to sputter.

The girl smiled, leaning against the fireplace. Flaming red hair draped over her shoulders luxuriously. "Hello," she repeated.

Draco was astounded. This girl was everywhere! Why couldn't her avoid her?

She moved toward him and smiled.

His jaw dropped. "I don't now about this."

Her slender fingers twined through his hair.

"Draco," she purred.

"Stop it," he blurted out.

She giggled.

Draco frowned. "What do you want, Weasley? I don't trust this."

She remained silent.

"Answer me!" he cried petulantly.

"I have an interest in you," she replied.

"You're up to s--s--s--OME--thing," he said as she kissed his throat.

"What makes you say that?" Her lips moved down to his collarbone.

"Well, seduction doesn't really seem your style."

She smiled and pulled away briefly. "Perhaps it only bothers you because seduction is your style, and my usurpation of your style upsets you."

Draco blinked. "Exactly."

Ginny seemed amused by this. "Well, I think it's time you know...that I don't care."

They both toppled over as she kissed him full on the lips.

Draco pulled away from her. "Cut it out."

She laughed and yanked him forward by the collar. "You like it," she muttered.

"That's why you have to stop," he said.

Ginny leaned into his ear. "Draco, since when have I done anything to satisfy you?" she asked.

He felt trapped suddenly. "I--I--uh..."

She smirked. "What's this? The every witty Draco Malfoy at a loss for words? I am surprised."