Summary
"This is the type of Gryffindor thinking that gets people killed, you know," Malfoy muttered darkly as the party of Slytherins slowly crept back to the hallway. Hermione looked up, locked eyes with Parkinson, and promptly decided that she must've done something very bad in a previous life. *One-shot written for HP Creature Fest. Dr/Hr, post war. T because I'm parinoid.*