Cruel and Unusual Punishment

Hi everyone, sorry for the wait for this chapter, I had all these ideas, just none for this story. And on top of that I got sucked into reading the most amazing fan fiction I have ever read that wasn’t smutty!! It’s called James Potter and the Hall of Elders’ Crossing, and it could easily be the eighth book of the series. I was hooked, and I couldn’t write until I finished (it’s over 400 pgs so that took awhile). The link is http://www.elderscrossing.com/wizard.html, if you want to check it out yourselves, it’s highly worth the read I can almost guarantee that.

So, sorry guys for the wait, but here it is, and since this fic is turning out longer than originally intended (I never planned the dates), it definitely won’t be finished by Vday, but I do I have the last two chapters written already, so whenever I feel it’s just dragging on or if any of you readers feel that way, feel free to let me know and Voila! I can post the end! I do hope most of you will agree with me when I say that I think it still has a little way to go though, because I like getting out some of my pent up randomness while writing this, which is all thanks to those of you who have reviewed!!! So thank you! (PotterEntourage I was so giddy when I read you liked Dashboard!!YAY!)


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The following week dragged on, and Draco was in a foul mood throughout its entirety. Hermione wasn’t talking to him. Not that that was exactly a new occurrence or anything, he’d just thought they’d made slight progress during their date. But he was proven wrong, and now he couldn’t even get near her enough to defend himself. She was either surrounded by her two sidekicks, locked in her bedroom, or in class trying to make him look bad with her bookworm mind powers. Normally, the holier-than-thou attitude would have irritated him to no end, but now, to his utmost horror, he found himself simply fantasizing about her with her hand in the air, then answering dirty questions about her sexy knickers, and just any dirty question that Draco could think of.

What’s blue, round, and fun to play with?

Umm… your balls, since I am somehow impervious to your undeniably sexy physique, and now you can’t even get it up for the girls you used to find attractive?

Right you are, Hermione… Thanks a fucking lot!

He had to talk to her, he was afraid he would go crazy if he didn’t. His only comforting thought on the subject was that at least he knew it was crazy that he wanted Granger, and that he knew he would likely go insane if she continued to ignore him. He figured truly crazy people didn’t know that they were nuts.

Although I have had more conversations with myself than anyone else in the past seventy-two hours… But that doesn’t mean anything, right? I’m just deliberating, no harm in that.

…So, some weather we’re having, eh?

Little wet for my taste but…

Oh hell…

His next plan of action was to make her angry by reminding her of their deal with a little poetry, just so she would yell at him, but even that wasn’t working. The poems that had flowed so freely seemed to be taking a vacation now that he had moved on from his Slytherin buddies. Stupid Ravenclaws. Smart people like that bunch were so boring. Frankly, he just couldn’t think of anything to say about them. He didn’t even really know any of them. There was the one Patil twin, but she had stayed under the radar since ditching the Weasel back in fourth year. She was nothing like her looser, dumber, skankier sister. Pity. Then there was always Mandy Brocklehurst, whose only humorous quality was her last name. But what could possibly rhyme with Brocklehurst? Brocklehurst is the worst? No, even in his pounding head it sounded dumb.

Too bad Loony Lovegood wasn’t in his year, he could think of a million things to say about her. Oh if only… though, that one might actually be too easy.

He had a bad feeling his social standing was about to plummet as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast on Wednesday morning. Never before had he had to worry about his popularity, but he did take it quite seriously. Still, here he was, about to flush it away for a girl that he should hate on principal, and the only girl that hadn’t fawned all over him since he was old enough to smirk.

Something had to be done to either fix his addled brain, or soothe his aching cock, and it was no surprise which one he chose (what warm-blooded man wouldn’t?).

He casually glanced at the Ravenclaw table as he stalked to his own. They even ate like a perfect bunch of robots. Dabbing at their chins with their perfectly folded napkins to clean away an invisible crumb, and cutting their waffles into perfect, equal proportions.

It was hopeless. The only thing he could think to do was make fun of their study habits and lacks of social lives, but then they would probably just snicker to themselves and call him a lot of big words he wouldn’t understand…

I could always use a dick… tionary.

And suddenly he realized that it didn’t matter if he made an arse of himself. It would be worth it, his date with Hermione had proved that much. He had seen another side of the notorious bookworm, a side he wanted to get to know better—studious, bookish Head Girl by day; silly, funny, and completely adorable drunk by night. Who knew?

He decided to redouble his efforts and that any old shit poem that could be construed as a “nice Valentine” would have to do. His goal was an average of three poems a day to make up for the two days he’d wasted, so that by the weekend, he would be accompanying the Head Girl on their second date. Ideas for what they would do were already swarming his mind as he turned to sit in his usual spot amongst the Slytherins, but the behavior of his so-called friends drove them away.

“This is getting old,” he growled at the lot of them. The second he had come into their vicinity they had dove into a bowing position on the table, their arms outstretched straight in front of them and their faces practically touching their breakfast. It didn’t look like a comfortable position, but Draco was not feeling sympathetic.

“Oh please don’t blast us with your inner eye Great Dali Draco,” Goyle whined sarcastically, his upper body still bowed. Draco used his large friend’s head as a handrail to get into his seat, and smiled to himself at the squelching sound his Goyle’s face made when it was met with scrambled eggs.

“I don’t think that thing would be considered an inner eye, not when it’s protruding like a horn on your head. Puberty is so last season my friend. Though, as Crabbe and Goyle have so cleverly pointed out, you could pass it off for one of those Hindu dots,” Blaise said casually, clearly enjoying the situation.

Draco had a sneaking suspicion that it was Blaise that started the ‘treat-Draco-like-a-religious-god-because-he-has-a-giant-zit,’ act, even though he himself wasn’t participating. There was no way Crabbe and Goyle would have come up with it by themselves, or have the balls to go through with it unless they were ordered to do so. He figured this was Blaise’s idea of revenge for outing his sexuality in front of their class.

“Sorry Zabini, but while you’re busy worrying about what season it is and if your robes bring out your eye color, I’ll be busy with my precious little Gryffindor… And I don’t mean Potter, so no need to get jealous,” he sneered at his friend, who instantly went into a huff and concentrated on his meal.

Draco turned his attentions once again to the Ravenclaws. Valentine’s Day was creeping up on him and he just had to bite the bullet and get them over with, the sooner the better. His last class of the day was Advanced Herbology, and a few of them shared it with him. The professor was always too busy with her head in the dirt to notice much, so if he could just have his poems ready by then he might have a chance at his weekend goal. He figured he could get at least two of them out of the way, maybe three if he was feeling particularly poetic.

He didn’t even realize how long he had been staring until Padma Patil started waving at him and laughing to herself on his behalf. He grinned sheepishly and she smiled at him. Then Lisa Turpin nudged her and rolled her eyes, shooting Draco a death glare.

Oh Lisa, and I had such high hopes for you...

~***

Advanced Herbology class was always interesting, to say the least. Professor Sprout pretty much just gave them directions and then went off to tend to her favorite plants, wearing her fluffy pink earmuffs. As far as Draco was aware, mandrakes were the only plant with a dangerous cry, and there weren’t any in the greenhouse they were currently working in. He supposed she was just tired of telling them not to talk, and decided to take matters into her own hands and block them out instead.

Today they were set the rather easy task of planting bobotuber seeds. The class was in general good spirits as they fought the slimy things into the ground. Draco caught sight of Hermione, who was working alongside Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott. She had a smudge of dirt on her chin, even though it appeared Neville was probably having the most success with his seeds. Draco supposed everyone had to be good at something.

About three quarters of the way through the class, everyone was breathing hard and slightly giddy from exhaustion. Draco figured it was as good a time as ever, and the professor hadn’t been seen since they caught her drinking from a watering jug at the beginning of class.

He walked over to the group of Ravenclaws, calling for attention as he did so. He threw his arms around Padma Patil and Terry Boot’s shoulders in a casual manner, satisfied that he had gotten the attention of the rest of his classmates. Lisa Turpin was once again rolling her eyes at him with her arms crossed, but the Patil twin and Terry were both just grinning and playing along like they knew what was to come couldn’t be avoided.

“This one’s for my friend Terry here… Granger, you better be paying attention!”

With brains and grades that can’t be beat,
Your napkin folded while your eat.

So perfect, and clean, and smart, and proper,
I bet your casseroles are quite the showstopper.

Some say you shouldn’t sport the sweater vest as a man,
But if anyone can bring them back, I’m sure that you can.

A fine house-husband you’ll make, one of these days…
Now, shall I introduce you to my friend Blaise?

The greenhouse roared with laughter and whistled their appreciation. Even Terry was bent over and howling with laughter, which Draco found surprising. Maybe the so-called boring nerds of Ravenclaw weren’t quite so bad…

“And next I give you the beautiful Miss Patil…”

I could say you’re pretty and smart,
But I don’t want my poem to get cheesy.
So I’ll just make this one short and sweet.
You’re my hero for dumping Ron Weasley.

Draco paid close attention to Padma’s response, even though he really wasn’t offending her in any way. For a moment her lips were pursed and her cheeks puffed, until she literally snorted and started cracking up. Terry patted Draco on the back and said, “I don’t know how you come up with this stuff, man.”

Draco had seriously underestimated the Ravenclaws; with a little tweaking they could practically pass for his own house. He had one more poem up his sleeve though, and he would see if they turned on him once he had thoroughly mocked one of their fellow housemates.

“And last but least, Lisa Turpin…”

So bloody perfect, that’s what you are,
On every exam, you get a gold star.

Your skirt never hitched, fear of showing a knee,
Oh how exciting you social life must be.

You could go to parties, you might have some fun,
Instead you’re busy practicing to be a nun.

You study so hard, your grades are the best,
So no one will notice that you have no breasts!

Again, Draco soaked up the applause. Terry and Padma, who he had released a second earlier, hadn’t joined in, but he could tell they were both trying to hide their creeping grins.

When the bell rang and they were dismissed, Terry marched to where Draco was standing, feigning like he was examining the Venomous Tentacula.

“Like I said, don’t know how you come up with this stuff. Turpin’s had a stick up her arse since she was named Prefect in fifth year, thanks for taking her down a notch.”

“You’re welcome, Boot,” Draco replied subtly. “So, no hard feelings for my poem about you?”

“Nah,” Terry waved it off. “To be honest, I think Blaise is kind of cute.” Boot winked at Draco, slung his bag over his shoulder, and ran to catch up with Padma. Draco was more than pleased with himself, but knew that as soon as he ran into Hermione, the feeling would be dissipated. Therefore, he was almost relieved to see that she had already left with the Abbott girl.

~*~

“Wow, Draco really went all out today, didn’t he?” Hannah said as they made their way across the grounds. Neville had stayed behind as usual, and they didn’t even bother trying to drag him away with them. He was like a kid in a candy store when he was in the muddy, humid greenhouses.

Hermione angrily kicked a stone and scoffed before replying.

“Ugh, I know… He’s such an arsehole!” she sneered in a loud whisper.

“What do you mean?” the Hufflepuff girl questioned. “If a guy did that for me I’d jump him where he stood! I mean, he obviously has a sense of humor, and on top of that he just so happens to be like the most delicious guy in school. I would so kill to be you right now!” the red-haired girl squealed.

Hermione didn’t know what to say to this; her friend was completely missing the point! Draco wasn’t saying the poems because he was some great guy, he was doing it to spite her and win the challenge! Hannah was in dire need of being set straight.

“It’s not like that, he’s just trying to prove to his friends that he can get with me because they all think I’m some ‘prude princess.’ He just wants another notch on his bedpost and for some reason I was chosen as his prey.”

“You don’t see how lucky you are, do you?” Hannah asked her seriously.

“It’s not luck!” Hermione shouted exasperatedly, frustrated that her friend was still missing the point. “He’s basically forcing me to sleep with him!”

“Trust me, no guy that could get laid on a regular basis would work that hard to get with you if it was just about sex.”

Hermione scowled, but a little voice in the back of her head was telling her that there was some truth to what Hannah was saying. She just never thought Mr. Popular, Draco Malfoy, would actually go through with the challenge, but here he was, spouting poems like he had recently digested a rhyming dictionary. Did she have so little confidence she couldn’t accept that an attractive male would actually like her?

It was a lot to think about. That much was certain.


~***

Malfoy caught up with Hermione right outside the portrait entrance to their common room after dinner that night. She didn’t even try to run away from him, and Draco was surprised to see her lips cocked to the side. She seemed to be studying him, and though Draco wasn’t sure it was a good thing, it was definitely a step up to her screaming bloody murder.

“You’ll stop at nothing, will you?” she asked him skeptically.

“No, I don’t think I will,” he shrugged casually.

“Well then,” she sighed in defeat, “I better start brewing a hangover potion.”

Draco eyed her critically, somehow expecting her to shout ‘kidding!’ and hit him where the sun didn’t shine. But she did no such thing, she just shook her head, smiling slightly to herself. Draco didn’t know what to say. He was so caught off guard that he just stood there with his mouth slightly gaping. Only when she turned to the portrait did he snap to attention.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” he asked.

She took a moment to contemplate her answer, biting her bottom lip in the process. Draco’s mouth went dry as he watched her, and he knew the only thing that would quench his thirst was a taste of her sweet pink pout. He inched towards her, desperate for her touch. Unfortunately, she chose the moment he was about to go for it, to answer his question.

“Maybe I’m tired of always being mad at you. And besides, Boot and Blaise does have kind of a nice ring to it,” she said, smirking mischievously. She chuckled lightly at the stunned look on Draco’s face, before ducking into their common room. Draco followed behind her, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not. He took a seat on the couch while she ran up to her bedroom.

A second later she was back, hanging over the balcony with something in her hand. She threw down a small tube and he caught it easily.

“It’s Muggle pimple cream, I’d recommend using it generously on that thing,” she called down to him.

“Gee, thanks Granger,” he growled, pretending to act offended. She rolled her eyes at him and retreated to her bedroom. He had to resist the urge to follow her and claim the kiss he missed out on in the hall.

Grasping the little bottle of ‘Clearasil,’ he sunk into the couch, his eyes shut and a pained expression on his face. On his lap his erection stood tall, pitching a tent fit for a family of four. He let out a frustrated groan.

Oh, what have I gotten myself into?


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Happy Valentines Day everyone!!!!!

Please read and review! Oh and the voting for the challenge should be up soon, so head on over to Granger Enchanted and vote for your favorite!! Lots of good stuff on that site, so I can’t even be offended if you don’t vote for me, it’s all in good fun : )

-Alexis