A Mandatory Alliance
By: Provocative Envy
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CHAPTER TEN
To: A Boy Whose Read “Pure Sunshine” One Too Many Times
You know, I’m starting to notice a pattern in your letters. First, you start them all off by telling me I’m stupid, psychotic, or emotionally unhealthy. You then proceed to say that it doesn’t matter which mental disorder I possess since you don’t care. Then you explain whatever petty problems you currently have in your life. And, naturally, you end them all with some kind of drug reference. Which concerns me, since I do believe your general unpleasantness might be due to an addiction of yours pertaining to those “illegal substances” you’re so fond of littering throughout your accusations.
Your last letter, though it naturally had a ‘cocaine’ in there, was different. You wrote merely one sentence, and I confess to some disappointment that you didn’t reflect on what you felt regarding my previous missive to you. I have a sneaking suspicion that you’re starting to entertain thoughts about my previous insinuation, which excites me beyond all reason. I can hardly wait for your second-hand declarations of undying love. In fact, I’m going to pound this into your skull just so you make your decision faster: YOU LOVE HER! YOU LOVE HER! YOU LOVE HER! YOU LOVE HER!
By God, but it’s fun making fun of you.
From: The Girl Who Is Writing This Whilst Smirking
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Draco Malfoy was still recovering from his shock-induced seizure when she barreled into him, quite breaking his concentration and startling him into anger rather than confusion.
“God, Granger, why are you always running into me? I know I’m attractive, but to be honest with you, Finch-Fletchley has a better chance with me than you do,” he snapped at her, sulkily rubbing the sore spot on his upper arm.
“You heard that?” she asked numbly, shutting her eyes in despair.
“Every last word,” he replied, mildly surprised she hadn’t immediately accused him of being the recipient of such an…explicitly horrendous letter.
“What…what are you going to do?” she gulped out.
“Tell Pansy,” he said easily.
Perhaps it was the condescension with which he addressed her, or the maddening way he inspected his fingernails, or even the irritatingly perfect way a single lock of bright blonde hair fell into his eyes that made her say it. She couldn’t recall what primal force encouraged her to open her mouth and blurt it out:
“I’ll tell people you’re gay!”
“What the hell?” came the bemused response.
“Yes! I’ll tell everyone that I found you and Finch-Fletchley in a compromising position in the third-floor broom closet,” she continued quickly, blinking rapidly and breathing erratically.
“You forget, Granger, that it was I who found you in a ‘compromising position’ not too long ago. I blackmailed you into making me ‘nice’ or whatever and you completely failed at that so now I’m just pissed and want to see you die of humiliation,” he countered, furrowing his brow at the confident expression on her face.
“And you forget, Malfoy, that I can use your previous blackmail to my advantage in this dirty little scenario,” she returned firmly, her lips twitching at the vacant look in his eyes.
“What are you on about? Are you going to confess to your tryst with Weasley so my ‘blackmail’ is worthless? That would just make it worse, Granger. Then you’d be both a whore and a whore with bad taste. I assure you that no one in this school will ever condone a sexual relationship with a Weasley or a Finch-Fletchley. Especially not at the same time.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco’s stupidity, wishing, not for the first time, that he possessed at least a small modicum of intelligence.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“No I’m not. You’re the one going on about blackmailing me for blackmail.”
“How did you know I was going to say that?” she asked wonderingly.
“I’m telepathic.”
“Yeah, and Trelawney can really read tea leaves,” Hermione snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“She can, actually. She predicted once that I would soon undergo a ‘fuzzy’ alteration back in fourth year. A week later I got turned into a ferret.”
“Which was certainly one of your brighter moments.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“No, really,” she answered, amused. “I really thought that you glowed as a squealing rodent.”
“Touching, Granger. I’ll be sure to ask McGonnagal to transfigure you into a one so you can really experience the joy and excitement of breathing through a wet nose. A highlight of my life, no doubt.”
“I might feel sorry for you if you weren’t such an ass.”
“What?”
“Yeah. You’re so clueless it’s rather sad. Unfortunately,” she added, “you’re Malfoy and therefore need to be brought down. So on with my plan.”
“Do continue, Granger. I’m simply dying of curiosity.”
“Will do. Okay, Malfoy, you realize that you asked me a few weeks ago to assist you in becoming ‘nicer’?”
“So?”
“Well, if it were to somehow leak out that you no longer wanted to be an evil, Slytherin prick, you’re reputation would be ruined. And then no one would believe you if you started making up rumors about me. You’d be that pathetic freak in the corner, trying to get his old ‘bad-boy’ status back by spreading lame-ass stories about the girl who brought about his social demise,” she explained nonchalantly, grinning inwardly at her own sneakiness.
Draco stared at her in both amazement and unabashed fury. He was impressed at her Slytherin-like use of cunning to turn the situation around, but angry that she’d actually blackmail him for wanting to become a better person. Sure, he’d pretty much abandoned that avenue after a few weeks, but he’d tried, hadn’t? He decided to play on her Gryffindor-goodness.
“How can you say something like that? How can you so much as think of wanting to…to punish me for aspiring to become nicer? I mean…I poured out my very soul to you and you’re going to tell everyone just so you can get some petty revenge?” he demanded dramatically, whipping his hair back and gazing poignantly at her.
Any minute now, Draco thought gleefully, all the while maintaining his sad, expectant glare. Any minute now and she’ll break down, just like Pansy, just like Padma, just like Potter…my acting skills are just too good for these simple minded-
“Does anyone ever believe your bullshit, Malfoy?” she interrupted his mental wandering, a small giggle escaping her mouth at the dumbstruck stare he was giving her.
“What-what do you mean?” he squeaked out, earning him another throaty chuckle.
“I mean,” she replied brightly, “that you could have been on a bloody soap opera with that last performance. I’ve known you for seven years, if you recall. Like I could actually think you were remorseful and still vying to be wholesome?” she pointed out reasonably.
“Um…yes?”
“Wrong. I have every intention of exploiting your newfound desire for ‘clean-living’. Say what you want about me and Ron, or me and Justin--which, by the way, is not true--because no one will believe you. You’re going to be the sore loser for once, Malfoy, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”
Draco watched her turn triumphantly to leave as if in slow motion, his eyes desperately searching the corridor for an object with which to launch at her retreating form. Dismally noting the bare walls and empty floor, he wearily admitted defeat.
What am I doing? he asked himself grimly. I deserve it anyways.
“Yes, you do,” came her voice from down the hall. It was then that he realized she’d never turned the corner and that he’d spoken out loud.
“How…what….eh?”
“Don’t look so hopeful, Malfoy. I’m still telling everyone. I’m just somewhat surprised you possess the perception to understand that you really do deserve it.”
And she really was surprised. When she’d chanced a look back and seen his slumped, beaten form, something in her had stretched a bit too far for comfort. When she’d heard him whisper that he deserved it, that something had snapped. She was, of course, still going to tell the world that he wanted to be like a Gryffindor, but she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. Wasn’t that the point of being a Gryffindor? Fighting fire with water?
“Do what you will, Granger. It doesn’t even matter anymore.”
Draco closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he heard her footsteps echo down the hallway. He hoped with every fiber of his being that his ploy of indifference had worked and that she was, even then, questioning her motives. It really was wonderful when you always managed to win.
OOO
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