secondtoreflect | Communication;

[ring. ring.]

[it rings about four times before he gropes around for it in his pocket and answers it, not recognizing the number]

Go ahead.

[The phone is on speaker, on the side of her bed. She must have smacked it in the middle of the night.]

...Malfoy?

...you know, when I gave you my card I didn't think you were going to actually use it.

Oh, fuck. It was an accident, I put you in my phone, fuck fuck fuck.

[Please please please ignore her rustling around and the very obvious noise of a bra snapping. And her hushing someone. And... you know.]

It was an accident that you put me in your phone? Because that's a huge acci--

...[And it clicks.] And here I thought you'd be a prude for the next ten years.

God damn it, could you both just shut up for like five minutes and let me find that phone? Where is it?!

[She is audibly freaking out. And Unnamed Boy is very obviously snickering in the background.]

[If it helps, Draco's kind of snickering too. Good, now he has more material to use against her for later.] You realize that if I were to shut up it'd make finding your phone harder, right?

[Ignore her little scream-slash-groan of frustration, Draco.]

I hate you so much, Malfoy, Merlin... where the hell is my phone?! And, fuck, don't just throw the sheets like that, okay? Now everything's everywhere!

[Draco may be the auditory witness to a case of domestic violence...]

[HAHAHA. Don't mind him, this is mostly directed at the other bloke but loud enough for Hermione to hear.]

If I were you, I'd run now. When she gets angry her hair tends to spark. Static electricity and all, crackly-like.

Shut up, Malfoy, shut up. [She's found the phone, and it's practically in a death grip in her hand.] Excuse me for a minute, please. I need to ... continue this conversation outside.

[step, step, step. door open, door shut. step, step, step. door open, door shut. low, angry whisper.] What is your problem, Malfoy?

Let me get this straight. I gave you my card, you put my number in your phone, you call me in the middle of the night and then proceed to shriek at me...and you're asking what my problem is? I do believe you're a bit backwards, Ms. Granger.

You gave me your card. It's common to put the number into a phonebank to prevent losing the number with the card. I didn't call you, I hit the phone. It was an accident. I wasn't exactly looking to talk to you.

And yet here you are still talking to me. Funny how that works.

So who's the dashing gentleman currently trashing your private quarters? [Why he's talking like that, who knows.]

[mumbling] What is his name... I think it's Jeremy.. or John. I don't know.

He's not trashing anything.

You don't even know who he is. That...that just makes this better! I never would have guessed.

Well you're the one screaming about your bedsheets. What else is a person supposed to think?

Shut. Up. He was trying to help me find my phone.

In your bed. Right. Maybe I should let you go back to your admirer in any case...unless he took my advice and really did leave.

I had left it on the side of the bed.

Why am I defending myself to you? You're just... what, I don't know. Are you made you're not him?

Right. Of course you did.

Oh yeah, incredibly jealous. How I wish it were me spooning in your bed right at this very moment. Are you joking? I have my own.

Oh, right, that's why you picked up so quickly at this time of night. Of course you do.

I didn't mean right this moment. I ended up coming back here instead of spending the night there.

You're such an awful liar, Malfoy.

Normally I'd argue about being a liar and try to prove my case, but I don't care that much. Though let me just say that it's because my bed's the most comfortable bed in the world.

Is that right? Empirical analysis tested that theory?

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