About a Girl

Sorry for about the bit of the delay...real life has been rather irritating as of late. I have a very heavy course load this year, and it is ridiculously difficult to apply to colleges in the United States. I'm gonna try to update as often as possible though. Thanks for all your reviews, please keep it up, you make it all worth it.

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Hermione sighed in exasperation, as she stood outside Malfoy's room, after having knocked for the third time and getting no response. It was 11:00 for god's sakes, and although she wasn't exactly leaping with anticipation at having to help him buy bras and panties, she didn't want to waste her whole morning waiting for the prat to wake up.


After arriving in their rooms the previous night, Hermione shut herself in her room and spent a good thirty minutes or so pacing about the room fuming like a steam engine, before finally managing to settle down and sleep. The next day at breakfast, she informed Harry and Ron that she was going to Hogsmeade to help a new transfer student buy supplies. Irritated that she wouldn't be able to help them with their homework, as well as so used to the fact that she always had time to do so, they gave her a more thorough interrogation about the new girl than she would have liked.


"Why does she need you to help her shop?" Ron asked. "She's not stupid, she can do it herself."


"Ron, she's new, she doesn't know her way around Hogsmeade, what if she wandered into the Hog's Head or the Shrieking Shack or something? Besides, I'm the Head Girl, it's my job to make her feel at home."


Ron grumbled slightly, but didn't say anything further.


"You said she's from Beauxbatons, is she French?" Harry asked.


"No," Hermione replied, "She's British, but she lived in France." She hoped Malfoy knew something about France, or if not, could fake a fairly convincing story about it.


"Beauxbatons, huh? Mmmm, it'll be like fourth year all over again," Seamus said with a dreamy expression on his face. Ron grinned widely; Hermione knew he was thinking of Fleur Delacour, and felt a stab of annoyance, surely the girl wasn't so gorgeous as to put all the male seventh years in a trance: even Neville and Dean were looking thoughtful.


"I bet she has great tits," Ron murmured quietly, apparently lost in his thoughts.


"I didn't really get a chance to examine them, but now that you mentioned it, I think I'll ask her to just whip 'em out before we go to Hogsmeade, and I'll give you a report, hmm?" Hermione snapped, breaking the boys out of their reverie. Neville at least had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.


Therefore, it was not altogether surprising that Hermione felt irritated and cranky, and the day hadn't even begun yet.


'That's it', she thought, as she knocked again with no answer. Taking out her wand, she said "Alohomora" and the door opened, to reveal a peacefully sleeping Malfoy, wearing an oversized t-shirt and an angelic expression. His hair looked practically perfect, drastically different from her own after a full night's sleep, and it was this final straw that prompted Hermione to go to the bed and poke him a little harder than perhaps was necessary.


"Wake up, ferret," she hissed.


Malfoy blearily opened his eyes, and looked around to the shrill voice that was piercing through his consciousness. What horrible and evil shrew could be shrieking at him this early in the morning? His vision focused on a large bushy figure, standing over him with her hands on her hips. Ahhh, that'd be it.


"Granger!" he groaned sleepily. "It's the crack of dawn, what are you doing in my bedroom? I understand if you're so desperate for a peek at the goods, but surely you could have waited until I woke up, woman."


"It's practically noon, Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "I have far better things to do with my time than wait on you. My day is already basically wasted as it is, so could you please just hurry up so we can get going?"


Get going? What was she blathering on about? Oh yes, the underwear shopping. Ra, ra. Well, excuse him for not bounding out of bed with enthusiasm at the thought of buying panties with Granger. Resisting the urge to curl into the fetal position and hide under the blankets for the rest of the day, he sighed. "Settle down, you harpy, I'm up, I'm up."


Malfoy sat on the edge of the bed and stretched, his nightgown creeping up his bare thighs as he did so. Feeling like a pervert, Hermione blushed slightly as he noticed his perfectly formed legs. Damnit, why was he perpetually prancing around without pants or a bra?! She had seen far more of his body in the past several hours than she had all these months sharing room with him. How was he not embarrassed? Although she grudgingly had to admit, if she was as well physically graced as he was, she doubted she would wear clothes at all. Heck, she probably wouldn't have any skills, know how to read, or anything, she would just be....naked.


Lost in her fantasies, Hermione was snapped back to reality when a hand waved obnoxiously right in front of her face.


"Hello, Granger, I've been speaking to you. Are you as deaf as you are unattractive, cause that would be saying something."


"What is it, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, rather red and flustered as she cleared her throat and mentally kicked her subconscious repeatedly into submission.


"What am I going to wear while we go shopping? I can't just walk through Hogsmeade in my normal clothes, while buying girl's clothes can I, I'll look bloody gender confused!"


Damnit. The miserable ferret had a good point. How could she not have thought of that earlier? As much as she didn't like it, only one option was available. "Ummm...damnit. You'll have to borrow something of mine for today, I guess, follow me."


Leading him to her room, Hermione went to her dresser and immediately started rummaging through the drawers, pulling out articles of clothing and muttering to herself. Draco frowned in distaste as he saw a variety of plain cotton underwear (far too large, in his opinion) and several pairs of sweatpants sticking out of the tops of the drawers. Didn't that girl own anything sexy, or fun, for god's sake? Judging by the stuff she was pulling out, he was going to look like his great aunt Gertrude when he went out.


"Alright, I guess that's everything," Hermione said, holding out a pile of clothes to him.


Draco made a face in disgust. "I don't want to put those on, god only knows where they've been."


"Do you think I'm thrilled about you wearing my clothes?" Hermione asked angrily. "It'll probably take days to wash the smell of prat out of them, but we don't have much of a choice, do we?"


Malfoy sighed and walked to his room, closing the door behind him. Dumping the clothes on the bed, he took a deep breath and took his nightshirt off. Well, here goes nothing, he thought fatalistically.


Reaching into the pile, he picked up a pair of white bikini briefs and slipped them on. So far, so good. Turning his eyes back to the bed, he mentally groaned. Yepp, he had almost forgot about the whole brasserie aspect of this ordeal. Picking up the light blue undergarment, Draco turned it over in his hands, feeling slightly queasy at the fact that he was handling Granger's bra. He had never really thought of her as having breasts or wearing a bra; it just didn't fit his image of her. It was like Trelawney or McGonnagal: it was unnatural and wrong to consider them even wearing knickers or having the same private bits as the rest of humanity, as that was just plain silly.


In addition, she was a 32C! Where had she been keeping those, how had he never noticed that? His were probably a 34B at best, and as much fun as they were turning out to be, he couldn't help feeling a little envious of Granger's rack, at which he mentally slapped himself.


Shaking his head clear of these thoughts, he picked up the bra purposefully, meaning to continue his dressing. Shrinking it with his wand, he paused slightly. How in god's name was he actually supposed to put it on? Being the resident Slytherin sex god, he had taken off quite a few in his day, but he'd be damned if he actually knew how to put them on. Draco nearly called for Granger, then thought better of it. Despite all the changes he had gone through over the past day, he doubted his intelligence had dimmed to the point where he couldn't put on a simple bra. It was just hooks and straps, for god's sake. Now, let's do this step by step. These cup things go over the breasts obviously, and the straps go over the shoulder.....


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Hermione shook with silent laughter as she heard the muffled curses coming from Malfoy's room and practically rolled off her chair. She had been listening to his efforts to put on a bra for a few minutes now, and he showed no signs of any significant progress yet.


"Goddamnit! Fucking hooks....stop popping out! Oh shit, this is twisted...."


Covering her mouth, she hid her giggles until she had tears in her eyes. This made the entire experience almost completely worth it, and she wished she could record it. She felt rather vindicated for all the trouble he had caused, as well as a wicked sense of justice for every boy who had snapped her bra strap and made fun of her chest since she was 11. Truly, it was revenge on behalf of every woman he had ever wronged, slept with and played false.


Still chuckling, Hermione realized that the cursing had stopped and the door had opened. Malfoy walked in, looking flushed and irritable, to her intense amusement. Wearing a pair of jeans that had always been too small for her, and a t-shirt that he obviously must have shrunk, no one in their right mind would have suspected this incredibly hot girl to be the bouncing ferret wonder. She couldn't help feeling mildly impressed with her handiwork.


"You don't look half bad," Hermione said cooly as they put on their coats and exited the tower. "From certain angles, you actually almost look rather pretty, thanks to those jeans."


"Pshh, I make them look better than you ever could, Granger," Malfoy smirked as they made their way to the Great Hall. "Now, let's get this over with, shall we?"

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By the end of the day, Hermione was utterly exhausted and her feet felt like she had been running a marathon. The last time she had been this physically and mentally drained was the time in first year, when she, Harry and Ron had battled for the Socerer's Stone, and even that had been relatively relaxing compared today.


Hermione had thought that no one could rival Ginny in terms of shopping, but Draco Malfoy had beaten all possible takers. He shopped like a man possessed, moving from store to store so fast she could swear he apparated, and fighting with other women for an item so viciously one would think it was his first born child. Effortlessly floating down the aisles, with clothes seeming to magically appear in his arms, he had reached a dressing room, tried everything on, and was on his way to register to pay by the time Hermione had caught up with him. She supposed she should have expected it after seeing the enormous wardrobe in his room, but this was a different situation.


"Do you really think you need this many clothes?" Hermione asked him, panting slightly as she followed him around a display of sexy underwear. "You don't know how long you'll be in this position, Professor Snape could have you cured in a matter of a week or so."


"So what's wrong with wanting to look one's best?" Draco said as he examined a thong with interest. "Besides, I don't want to wear the same few things for an entire month; it may take ages for Snape to cure me."


Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco took a couple of thongs. "And by the way, why do you need thongs? They're incredibly impractical, not to mention bloody uncomfortable. In fact, most of the clothing you're getting are; it's nearly February, don't you think you should buy a sweater or something?"


"There's this thing called sexy, Granger, maybe you've heard of it," Draco replied with a smirk. "Unlike you, I have a body that people would actually want to see in tight clothes and I intend to take full advantage of it. Here, I'll treat you to one of these lovely thongs if you'd like. It's infinitely better than those Granny panties you have, perhaps, if you wear these, you'll finally get more in your twat than a tampon."


"Fuck you, ferret," Hermione spat, seething as he went to pay for his clothes. They were all of the sexy, rather expensive variety, and she felt a slight twinge of joy as she imagined him staggering about the grounds freezing his tits off while he wore a tank top in February. And I'd like to see him walk around with a piece of dental floss up his ass while he has his period, she smirked mentally.


Shivering slightly with cold and stomach aching with hunger, Hermione managed to convince a disgruntled Malfoy that they needed to head back to the castle before she dropped dead and was eaten by wolves, and they set off, with him grumbling slightly, carrying several large bags.


"What about makeup, do you think that I'll need that? And who will teach me to apply it, anyway?"


"For the love of Merlin, please shut up, Malfoy," Hermione said in weariness. "This is school, not a beauty pagent, and considering the amount of time that you sleep, you'd have no time to put on makeup anyway. But if you'll stop bitching about it, I have makeup that I may let you borrow if you really need it."


"You have makeup? Granger, please, I'm being serious here," said Malfoy crossly.


"Haha," said Hermione sarcastically. "Yes, I have makeup, and I can actually apply it a little, believe it or not. And if you don't keep quiet for the rest of the walk up, I won't let you have it."


And amazingly, he did.


Who'd have thought bribing the git with eyeliner would get him to shut up? Hermione thought in amusement. Swwet Circe, the boy was vain. Just think of all the things I could make him do for some hair potion.


They finished the journey in complete silence, the strain of the day even catching up with Malfoy a little bit and making him somewhat civil and non-argumentative, to Hermione's happiness, as she felt she would have strangled him with one of his own thongs at the slightest hint of sarcasm or disobedience. Having missed supper, they ordered food from the kitchens to their rooms, ate in relative quiet, and went to bed.


Hermione lay drowsily under the warm quilts, sleepily musing that she had made it through this day relatively unscathed and that perhaps this whole situation wouldn't be too bad after all.


Then she groaned slightly as she remembered the next day was Monday.


Oh joy.


Look out Hogwarts, here comes Ms. Jocelyn Greenleaf.


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Disclaimer: The "She wouldn't know how to read, have any skills, she'd just be...naked" line is from the show "Grey's Anatomy."