Cruel and Unusual Punishment

A/N- I know it has been a long, long, LONG time since I’ve updated. I also know that I wanted to finish this story completely before I posted an update, and I said I would finish before I started updating again. Here’s the thing, I have the next four chapters finished and I have the four chapters after that almost finished. But I’ve been this far along for months now, and I just have no inspiration for this story anymore. I know exactly what I want to happen but I just can’t write it. So I have decided to post the next four chapters, once a week for the next four weeks, and hopefully some feedback will break me out of my perma-writers block. If you don’t want to read until it’s finished, I will post the word ‘Complete’ in the description so you will know when to start reading again. I’m so close to being done, but I don’t think I’ve been able to write a single word for this story in over 6 months, not for lack of staring at my computer screen, and SOMETHING had to be done about it. Please don’t hate me for going back on my word, I just don’t know what else to do : / I am stuck! Hopefully this helps. I guess I didn’t really expect people to like such a random story, so the pressure is on to make it good. I do have to say that I am quite proud of chapter 12, the word ‘handjob’ gets thrown around quite a lot… and because sometimes I have the mind of a 14 year old it makes me laugh lol. Anywhoo, thank you all so much for the reviews and being so supportive through everything!! It is mucho appreciated!!

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If there was ever a time that Hermione was glad for the weekend, it was today. She knew when she woke up and rushed to the toilet, bringing up the alcohol that somehow tasted ten times worse on the way out, that it was not going to be a good day.

She stumbled down to breakfast, in need of something to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth that her toothbrush had been unable to fix, and almost jumped out of her skin when the Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers.

Super…

Her cheeks burned red, but she plastered half of a fake smile on her face and gave them a slight wave. After about five seconds she could take no more, and she turned on her heel and hightailed her arse to the Gryffindor table. She took a seat next to Ginny, not caring that Harry and Ron were sitting across the table, and that she was technically still mad at them.

“What was that all about?” Ginny asked her. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, shoveling food into her mouth straight from the serving trays. It tasted like heaven.

“Probably just welcoming the new Queen Bee, Mrs. Malfoy,” Ron snickered sarcastically. Hermione glared at him, swallowed her food and cleared her throat.

“Or perhaps it’s because I snogged Luna Lovegood last night in their common room,” she replied conversationally. Seeing the stunned looks on their faces made leaving the comforts of her room all the more worthwhile. “Can someone pass me the butter?”

-***-


By the end of the day, what had happened at the party was common knowledge. Somehow, this didn’t make her even more of a social outcast like she thought it would. People she’d hardly ever spoken to made a point to say hi to her in the halls. Even Millicent Bullstrode almost smiled at her! It was like she was in some kind of alternate universe, where only her so-called friends were acting normal. She could deal with them though. They would get over it, and when they did they owed her a massive apology.

She walked into the Great Hall for dinner thinking that the day actually hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought it would be. She’d even managed to avoid Malfoy without really trying.

To top it off, at lunch the Headmaster announced that there was to be an extra Hogsmead trip over the following weekend, and two guys had already asked her if she would accompany them! Two guys! That was two more men than she’d ever been asked out by before, not including the forced dates with Malfoy, of course. She’d said no to both of them, but the fact that they’d asked made her feel oddly giddy inside.

She should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

About halfway through dessert, the hall went unusually quiet. Hermione looked around, trying to figure out the cause, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t what she thought it might be.

He wouldn’t… He couldn’t!

She’d practically thrown her drunken self at him and he’d refused her, so why would he keep up with the challenge? He’d just proven that he was all talk and no action! He didn’t really want her! He just wanted to think that she wanted him, because she was the only girl who’d ever turned him down, and Merlin forbid his big ego get taken down a notch.

No, there had to be something else going on. She slowly turned towards the Slytherin table, where everyone else’s eyes were already fixed.

“This one goes out to Ernie Macmillan…”

The fork in Hermione’s hand bent in half.

Mother. Fucker.

Malfoy winked at a few girls who were screaming his name. Hermione vomited in her mouth a little.

I’ve heard someone talk of a great Hufflepuff,
Who’s tall, dark, handsome, and incredibly buff.

His tool puts a mammoth’s trunk to shame,
And Ernie Macmillan was this fellow’s name.

He’s dated so many girls. His friends think he’s cool.
No, you haven’t met them; they don’t go to this school.

He could be the best quidditch player Hogwarts ever had,
But he’s too scared of making everyone else look so bad.

Eleven inches around, isn’t that what he said?
What a shame that this rubbish is all in his head!

Malfoy accepted his raucous applause by bowing deeply to every table. Hermione was literally fuming mad. She looked to the professors’ table for some justice, but they hadn’t seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. What had happened to everyone!? Were the house-elves putting something in the food!?

Unfortunately, Hermione didn’t have time to inspect the pies for anything suspicious, as they had vanished a second before. Everyone started to leave, laughing and talking about Malfoy’s poem to Ernie. They were so easily amused!

Hermione pushed through the slow moving procession, trying to catch the teachers before they disappeared for the night. She caught up with McGonagall just in time.

“Professor, I’m sorry, but how can you let Malfoy get away with insulting Ernie like that right in front of you!?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” McGonagall replied, eyeing Hermione carefully.

“I’m talking about Malfoy! He stood up on the table and read a very mean poem to everyone!”

McGonagall looked confused for a minute, before pressing her hand to Hermione’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright, Ms. Granger? You don’t seem to have a temperature.”

“Of course I’m feeling just fine!” she yelled back, sounding slightly maniacal even to her own ears.

“I can assure you that if Malfoy were to do such a thing, I would have stopped it immediately. I think you need some rest. Goodnight Ms. Granger.”

Hermione watched the teacher go, her hands balled in tight fists and her teeth grinding together, as the anger blossomed inside her.

GRRRRRR!

She took off at full speed. Just because the professors had decided to ignore the parasitic prat, didn’t mean that she had to.

“MALFOY!” she screeched at the entrance to their common room. He was there; she could see the back of his head peeking over the couch. It took all her self-control not to leap over the sofa and claw his face off, especially after he turned so casually towards her, like he didn’t know what he’d done.

“Yes, Granger? Is something wrong?” he asked innocently, batting his eyelashes for effect.

Unfortunately for Malfoy, her self-control didn’t extend quite that far.

“ARRRGGGG!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, running flat out and diving at him. Her hands enclosed around his neck and she fought her way on top of him, pinning him to the couch.

“Merlin… Granger… can’t… breathe!” he choked out, gasping for air.

I so need to put Granger’s man-grip to work somewhere else…

“Why are you doing this to me!? And how are you even getting away with it!?” she shouted, her grasp on his neck firm as she beat his head into the cushion repeatedly.

“Oblivious… Charm,” he grunted.

So that was why the teachers hadn’t seen anything; he’d charmed himself to make the professors not notice him if they weren’t specifically looking for something. It was kind of genius actually, because they would never think to look for a student standing on the table reading weird poetry.

“Seriously… can’t… breathe…” Malfoy wheezed, his face turning a dark shade of pink. Hermione grudgingly loosened her hold, but continued to glare at him so fiercely that he didn’t dare make a move to leave.

“Now tell me, why do you continue to torture me every chance you get?” she asked him seriously.

“I’m not torturing you!” he shot back. He’d spent hours writing stupid poems for her!

What an unappreciative little—

“Oh, so it wasn’t enough to shoot me down last night? Now you have to finish with the challenge so you can turn me down in front of the whole school!?” she shrieked.

“What!?” Draco asked, genuinely confused. “You’re the one who told me to continue with the challenge!”

“I did not!”

“Yes you did! You said, and I quote: ‘Continue with the challenge. I hope you win even’.”

And something else about deserving blah-blah-blah…

“I was being sarcastic! Stop taking everything I say so literally!” she yelled at him and smacked him in the chest. Was he really that thick?

“Stop telling me to do things you don’t actually want me to do!”

Why do I want this girl again?

“Stop doing everything I say!”

I should’ve strangled him when I had the chance!

“Stop yelling at me!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

…

Hermione glowered sinisterly at him. How could he not understand what he was doing to her!? Why was it so hard for him to just leave her alone and let her get on with her bookworm life in peace!? She’d spent six years living comfortably under the radar, until he came along and ruined everything!

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she finally asked him.

Draco eyed her, contemplating his response. The girl was sitting on top of him, her hair fiery and her eyes burning with passion, and she wanted to know why he couldn’t just leave her alone?

“Maybe if you stopped sending me all these mixed signals, I would be able to!” he sneered.

“Pshh, what mixed signals?” she huffed in disbelief, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

“Well for starters, ‘Oh Malfoy, all you have to do is make up Valentine’s Day poems for everyone in our year and I’ll sleep with you! I’ll even make it a magical contract so you know how serious I am about it!’ ” he mocked her sarcastically in a high-pitched girl voice.

“I was just trying to—”

“And,” he interrupted, “what about you getting drunk, taking off your clothes, and asking me a bunch of sexual questions!?”

“That was because you made me play—”

“Then you go and make out with me and practically beg me to sleep with you, and I refuse because you are drunk off your arse, and you get mad at me! You get mad at me for not sleeping with you, and you’re mad at me for continuing the challenge so I can sleep with you! Make up your mind, woman!”

“But… I… you… Well, when you say it like that…” she mumbled. Draco smirked up at her.

“Oh and don’t forget how you tried to kill me not even twenty minutes ago, but now here you sit, straddling my lap!”

Hermione looked down, horrified by their compromising position.

“Eek!” she shrieked, jumping off of him and tumbling gracelessly to the floor in her haste. Was he right? Was she really sending mixed signals without even realizing it?

“See, even your subconscious wants me,” he stated pompously.

She didn’t know what to say. She could’ve sworn she had a counter argument, but she didn’t know what that was anymore. Why did he always make her feel so confused about her own feelings!?

“So… what are you going to do?” she asked slowly.

“With what?”

“You know… the challenge,” she replied, not sure of what she wanted him to say. Would he keep going? Would he stop? Did she want him to stop? What if he won…?

Draco contemplated his answer. He was more than halfway to his goal; he couldn’t just walk away now. Maybe before their dates he could have… before he heard her laugh… before the kiss that still lingered on his lips… before she told him about her red knickers and getting prematurely ejaculated on by Weaselbee…

“I’m not giving up.”