The scratch of the quill against parchment was a distraction.
How could anyone focus on the proposed regulations for trolls when there was a scratch, scratch, scratch noise coming from the desk nearby?
Of course, it was intentional. Hermione had little doubt of that, nor did she expect that Terry would deny it if she accused him. She wouldn't, though, because she wasn't speaking to him. Her vow of silence had started after dinner, when the infuriating prat had dared to score more points on Scrabble by cheating, and she didn't intend to say a word until he admitted what he'd done.
Which was why he was sitting right there disturbing her reading with his bloody parchment and quill. She finally looked up and glared at him, one of her worst 'if you don't stop, you'll be sleeping over at Anthony's instead of just on the sofa' looks, but he didn't stop writing. Instead, he had the audacity to lick his lower lip, deliberately lingering in the corner where he knew she liked to nibble, and then he smirked.
She scowled and looked back at her file. The quill finally stopped but only for a moment. It started again, most likely after he dipped it into the ink, and he started to hum. Terry was a great many things, clever and sexy in a way that had appealed to her before she'd even realized she was looking and funny in a way that made Harry look suave, which was actually pretty bad but she found it adorable. Despite the many positive things she could say about him, she would be lying if she ever said he could hum a tune to save his life.
That earned another scowl as she looked up from her paperwork. She blinked when she noticed that he'd lost his shirt since her first glare. A quick look around found the shirt folded up neatly on the chair near the desk along with a leather belt. She barely managed to catch herself before she asked what he thought he was doing. She sniffed and buried her face in her report, doing her best to ignore the scratching of his quill.
Finally, it stopped. She heard his chair move and then a rolled up piece of parchment was dropped onto her file. It was tempting to ignore it, but she was just too curious, which the git knew, and she had to unroll it. Her lips quirked into a slight smile when she read it. I'm sorry that I used slang for sexual words during the game. While I'm fully aware of the rules regarding slang, the people who wrote the rules obviously had no idea how sexy you look when your cheeks are flushed from reading me spell out 'fuck' off the middle of 'allure'. Talk to me?
After she rolled the parchment and set it aside, she looked up at Terry, who hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on, the cocky prat. However, he looked anxious and verbalized his apology when she arched her brow. She nodded once and closed her file before she stood up and smirked. "I win," she told him before she brushed a kiss against the corner of his mouth.
End