: If My Day Keeps Going This WayAuthor
: #3If My Day Keeps Going This Way
"Granger, I said I didn't want to deal with anyone today. That includes you." Draco glared at the closed door of his office and folded his arms.
"You don't have to have any contact, Malfoy." Hermione's voice, only slightly muffled by the door, sounded huffy, and Draco rolled his eyes. "You do, however, have to have some food at some point. I was wondering how you planned to accomplish that if you stay in there all night."
"Slide dinner under the door for all I care. Go away." He waited until he heard the sound of footsteps moving away from the door, then shook his head. "You're not fooling me, Granger. I said go away."
"You know, not everyone is as sneaky as you." Hermione sounded offended.
"I'm aware. And you clearly aren't, because you would have managed not to make it so obvious that you were only pretending to walk away. Do me a favor and actually go this time. I don't want to deal with anyone. Anyone
He knew she left. She was willing to irritate him to a point, but she never pushed him too far. It had taken them ages to figure out where each other's boundaries were, and they were careful not to cross those lines. Hermione knew when Draco was having a bad day, it was best to leave him alone until he crawled out of it. That day was especially bad.
Everything sucked, as one of the Muggle employees at the Ministry was fond of saying. He'd slept funny and hurt his neck. There'd only been half a bowl left of the cereal he liked best. The crossword puzzle in the Prophet
had been printed badly and all the clues were smeared. He should never have bothered to get out of bed. Shouldn't have bothered to wake up, he thought.
Draco shoved his chair backwards, rocking it onto its back legs, and thumped his boots onto the desk, parchments and files crumpled under his heels. The morning had started out like that, then at lunch, he'd gotten into an argument with Granger over the plans they'd made for the weekend. He said they'd decided to go to dinner, she said they were going to the films. They argued he-said, she-said back and forth for the entire meal, and left each other in a snit.
It only got worse from there. He wanted it to be over. Or re-done. Too bad all the Time Turners had been destroyed, he thought, though second considerations told him possibly not. He still would have had to live through the day. Twice.
A quiet knock stirred him out of his rather sulky reverie. "Granger, I said--"
She slid a tray under the door. Everything on it was flat. A slice of cheese, two slices of bread, a chocolate biscuit, some sort of silvery pouch with a straw attached to it. "You'll have to forgive the Muggleness of the drink, Malfoy. Turns out wizards don't sell anything I could slip under the door."
He kept his arms folded as he stared at the door.
The corner of a newspaper edged into the room, but only a corner. Draco heard Hermione curse softly, and the paper disappeared, then came back in, folded edge first. "I had to go through every paper the newsstand had, but I found one that wasn't smeared. Thirty-two down is a good clue today."
He took his feet off the desk and lowered the chair, moving slowly to keep from making noise. The woman had actually gone out and found him food that she could push under the door. There weren't a whole lot of witches who would go to that kind of effort for a snotty, sulking boyfriend. Still, he kept silent. He wasn't ready to be out of his bad mood.
He drew his wand and Summoned the newspaper, then opened the crossword puzzle. Thirty-two down, three word phrase commonly said between partners. Granger had already filled in the answer. He sighed and raised his head. "I love you too. I'm not coming out until tomorrow, though. This day needs to be over."
"Thought you might say that."
Draco heard rustling, and another tray slid under the door. He couldn't quite see what was on it, and she wasn't talking. He craned his neck, but all he could see was the tray. With another sigh, he got up and went to the door. There was a small, rectangular thing on the tray. "What's this?"
"It's a Polaroid. Muggle photograph thing. Turn it over."
He bent and picked up the photograph, then turned it over. Granger was making a rather sultry face, one eye closed in a wink. He still wasn't quite used to photos that didn't move, but he liked what he saw here. "Nice, but not good enough. I'm going back to my desk."
Another photo slipped under the door. "Did I mention that I got new lingerie yesterday? Thought you might like the bra. It has cut-outs. See?"
Draco stared. "It's a good try, Granger. Very, very, very good. But not working entirely." The bad mood was lifting, but he didn't want to let go of it. Sulking was making him forget the day he'd had. Granger's pictures were making him think about the night he could
have. Was sulking worth it? He was on the verge of saying yes.
One more photo slid under the door. Draco picked it up and turned it over.
This was a part of his girlfriend he was familiar with, intimately
familiar with, but he'd never seen it from quite this angle. He knew Hermione was flexible, but he hadn't known she could twist enough to get a camera there
. He also hadn't known she'd be the sort to use
a camera in such a fashion. "Um. Is there more?"
"Maybe." Her fingernails drummed on the door. Draco didn't need to see her to know that she was smiling. "You'll have to come upstairs, though."
"Tempting, Granger, but dunno if it's tempting enough." He was reluctant to give up his snit, but after looking at those photos, he couldn't quite remember why he was sulking.
Another photo slid into the room and stopped against his boot. "If you're upstairs in five minutes, you can use that
. On me." Draco heard her walking away. He bent to pick up the photo.That
He was out of the room before the picture hit the floor.