Parseltongue Predator
"Come on, focus!" Hermione barks. "Sorry, sorry, I'm focusing," you say, fighting a grin. There's a brief silence as Hermione surveys you suspiciously from underneath her golden cloud of hair. You open and close your mouth twice, and then you say, "It's just, your accent is atrocious. You somehow sound like an unintelligible combination of a black mamba and an American Diamondback."
She glares at you, tossing her head. "It's not my fault this language is so bloody hard! I mean, how many different ways can you pronounce sss?" "About five-hundred and fifty-seven," you deadpan. Hermione flops into the couch with a groan. Laying on her back, with an arm tossed over her face, sharp eyes dormant and relaxed, she looks like a predator at rest.
You can't take your eyes off her. She's pretty in the way a snake is, shrewd and clever and deadly and bright. Her hair is like a living thing.
"Wanna take a break?" you ask gently, caressing her cheek. "No," she wails. "I hate to stop in the middle of studying." "We're not stopping," you assure her. "Just taking a small rest. That's legal, you realize." "That will be the first thing I change when I'm Minister, then," Hermione retorts smartly. She stands, a cobra on its coil.
"Come on then. If we aren't going to study we may as well head down to Florian's."
for @animealways, thanks for requesting!













