Her Morbid Curiosity

Taking A Peek

   With Gryffindors defeat to Slytherin, Hermione had absolutely no doubt that Harry, Ron and Ginnywould all be in a terrible mood. She really did not want to come down to the dressing rooms at allbut knew that if she did not offer her support now and get the moaning out of the way then shewould have to endure it during her revision time in the Common room, which just would not do. 

   The December air was chilly as she made her way down through the rafters of the stands andtowards the Teams changing rooms. Hermione could already imagine the conversation that shewas likely to have... she could practically hear Ronald moaning down her ear about unfairdisadvantages and that Malfoy had tailgated Harry for the Snitch. 

   Malfoy had won Slytherin the game, which meant that Harry's mood would be even worse thanRon's. If there was one thing that Harry hated more than losing at Quidditch, it was losing toDraco Malfoy at Quidditch. It was a rivalry that Hermione suspected would last for all eternity. 

   She opened the door to the corridor where the changing rooms were, fully aware of a few Slytherinplayers coming out of their own changing room further down the hallway and making their waytowards the exit. If their changing room was the one on the left, then the Gryffindor team musthave been in the one on the right, opposite the Slytherin door. 

   Hermione strode down the corridor with purpose, the smell of sweat and testosterone in the air asshe made her way down the hall, the cheers and laughter from the Slytherin rooms making theirway to her ears as she got closer. They had the right to celebrate, but she hated that they had areason to. 

   A gloating Slytherin was one of the worst things imaginable. A gloating Draco Malfoy would beinsufferable for at least a month. 

  Draco fucking Malfoy.  

   Hermione ground her teeth at the thought of him. Head boy to her Head Girl. The smirk to herglare. The thorn in her bloody side. The only boy who could goad her into almost having toreassure herself that she was correct when she put her hand up to answer in lessons. 

   The only boy who could wind her up to the point of physical frustration. His cocky swagger andhis perfectly chiselled bone structure made her feel sick. It also did not help that Hermione foundhis height slightly intimidating. 

   Malfoy was huge. 

   Next to Hermione's five-foot two petite frame, he towered over her by at least a foot and a couplemore inches. He almost always alluded to the fact that he found it funny that she was so muchshorter than he was, whether it be by putting books in their shared dormitory up on the highershelving so that she struggled to reach them, or calling her 'short stuff' every now and again,which he knew she hated. 

   Well, maybe hated was a strong word... but she still found it highly annoying. And even moreannoying than that was the smell of him in their dormitory. 

   His scent was everywhere... on the couch cushions, in the bathroom... sometimes she could swearthat she could smell him in her own room, too. He was everywhere and she could not make him goaway. 

   Hermione took a deep breath and attempted to put the annoying bastard out of her head, but just asshe was about to turn and open to door to the Gryffindor changing rooms, she heard the sound of avery familiar laugh and her head snapped automatically in the direction that it was coming from. 

   The Slytherin changing rooms. 

   There was a crack open in the door. 

   His laugh. 

   Hermione saw the alabaster skin and the blonde hair before she saw anything else. He was a goodten or so feet back from the door and therefore a little harder to take in but...