Her Type
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Ginny shook her head and waved her arm about. The wine in her glass precariously sloshed around with her jerky movements and it was only through her sharpened Quidditch reflexes did she prevent the precious liquid from spilling. "No. Absolutely not!"
Luna nodded her head adamantly, her actions far less jarred than the slightly tipsy redhead to her right. "I agree. He's definitely all wrong."
Hermione frowned as she stared down at the image in the latest issue of Witch Weekly, a publication she would deny ever reading if Harry or Ron caught wind of her closet obsession with the gossip rag. "And why not?"
"He's not your type," said Ginny simply.
"My type? I don't have a type," denied brunette as she stared down at the dashing brunette with blue eyes and a chiseled chin. She most certainly did not have a type, but if she did then she would like it to be the gorgeous wizard winking up at her cheekily.
Luna sighed. Hermione was always thinking with her head too much and it caused to Dozzles to muddle her thoughts. "Hermione. Ginny's right. You have a type."
"Alright then. What is my type?"
She certainly wanted to know because she honestly couldn't think of what exactly they knew that she didn't.
Ginny smirked as she took another swig of her wine like she was throwing back a shot of firewhiskey. She had obviously learned to drink from her brothers. Bit of a tomboy that one. "Well my dear bookworm. Your type is simply tall, incredibly ripped and overall man."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?" Her type was what now?
"Ginny's right. You like them big and muscular. You like them when they tower over you and have all those rippling pectorals that you like running your hands along," stated the blonde with a serene smile.
"I'm 5'2" Luna! Everyone towers over me," protested the wild haired brunette.
"Yea, but you like them huge," threw in Ginny as she eyed her empty glass like it had somehow betrayed her. "You like it when they're built like bricks."
Hermione felt herself flush with embarrassment. The way the two were carrying on made it seem like she was nothing but a silly little shallow thing that liked a man that would grace a raunchy romance novel.
"It's not a bad thing," said Luna, seeing her friends embarrassment.
Ginny nodded. She had abandoned the glass all together and was now holding a new bottle of wine. Where it came from was anyone's guess. "We all have our types. I like them svelte, lacking self-preservation and with dark hair that could go for a good comb. Luna likes them randy, far too pretty for their own good and Italian. See? Types."
"Yes, but you're talking about specific people."
Ginny was still very much attatched to one Harry Potter. Luna had recently started to see Blaise Zambini and the Italian heartthrob was absolutely smitten with the spacey blonde. They made for an odd paring, but the absolute happiness on both of their faces was telling. They were a good match.
"That's only because you haven't found your guy yet Hermione," said Luna.
"So what are you saying? That I'm a cliche and I go for muscular men that could lift me single-handedly?"
"Viktor."
"That was in my fourth year!"
"Ron."
"And we all know how well that turned out!"
"Cormac."
"He doesn't even count and it was one date to Slughorn's party!"
"Marcus."
"That wasn't really a relationship. We were both not looking for an emotional attachment and simply needed a physical release. Besides, he moved to Ireland to play Beater."
"Kingsley."
"You don't actually believe that trash Skeeter posts! He's my boss!"
Ginny grimaced. "Ok, perhaps not Kingsley. How about Thorfin Rowle."
"That bloody blonde behemoth just likes riling my feathers by teasing me and calling me 'precious'. He's not interested and if he was, it would just be for a quick shag. You know his reputation and Rowle doesn't do relationships and I don't do arrogant sods."
"Vlad."
Hermione had no response to that because what she had with Vlad was very good and very real. Unfortunately, they both wanted different things and he had to go back to the Ukraine and she could not follow. They parted on good terms and she really did wish him the best. But Merlin, the sex was amazing!
"Okay. So perhaps the men I choose to become entangled with all have similar builds."
"Like a brick," tossed in Ginny.
"That doesn't mean I have a type."
Luna smiled. It was cute when Hermione was in denial. "Hermione. Ginny's right You have a certain attraction to a particular physical build. There's nothing wrong with that."
Hermione frowned. She didn't want to hear anymore. "I'm leaving. You two can continue getting pissed. I'll be off finishing up my paperwork to turn in to my boss."
"Oh hey. Draco's kinda grown up and he's been working out."
Luna hummed in agreement. "He certainly has become far more built in these past few years. I mean he's always been rather tall, but now that he's exercising regularly he's become much more muscular."
Hermione didn't even acknowledge the two bints she called friends. She apparated away with a soft pop.
Ginny laughed. "Oh they are so going to shag."
"I certainly hope so. Draco's practically head over heels for her."
The redheaded Gryffindor scoffed. Head over heels was an understatement. The poor man was undoubtedly in love with the brunette and he was far too subtle in his advances. Thank Merlin she and Luna had enough sense to drop Hermione hints. Once the brunette had the thought in her head, it would be difficult to ignore and she would most definitely make her feelings known.
Slytherin's. Too bloody discreet for their own good.
Bloody Ginerva Potter and Luna Lovegood!
The curly haired brunette cursed them. She cursed their lines for generations to come because they were absolutely right and she loathed being wrong.
Draco Malfoy was most definitely fit and curse her because she was most definitely noticing. When did bloody Malfoy of all people get shoulders like that!?
Hermione's mother was an artist. Before becoming a dentist, Helen Granger would spend hours in her studio sketching and sculpting. It was a hobby that never really left her mother and between her and her bibliophile father, Hermione was brought up on a diet of Byron and DaVinci. It was due to this, she developed quite an artists' eye when it came to observing forms - particularly male forms. And she had quite a weakness for a man's shoulder's and back - specifically the trapezes and posterior deltoid.
Seeing that muscle flex beneath Malfoy's thin tailored shirt was heady. Dear Merlin that was sexy as hell.
"Careful luv. You're drooling."
Hermione threw a cutting glare towards Dean Thomas - fellow Gryffindor muggleborn and as bent as Sir Elton Johns closet.
Dean sucked in a sharp breath. "Although I don't blame you for staring. That wizard has grown up and filled out in all the right places."
The brunette chose not to comment.
Dean rolled his dark eyes. That witch had it so bad even a blind man could see. "Hermione luv. Listen to your fairy queer father," Dean began in a gracious tone that had Hermione caught between frowning and laughing. "Draco Malfoy is a hunk of a man and if I knew I had a shot with him, he'd be tied to my bed. However, I know that wizard prefers witches and specifically curly haired brunettes that are far too stubborn for their own good."
"I am not stubborn!:
As if proving his point, Dean merely shook his head. "Go out there and get him!"
"What am I supposed to do? Stroll on up and say, 'Goodness Malfoy. You look hot enough I could bake a tin of cookies off of you. Care for a drink?'"
"I'd love to."
Hermione wanted the ground to swallow her up whole.
Dead looked positively gleeful. When he had seen Malfoy casually walk in their direction - conveniently behind one oblivious Hermione Granger - he didn't think it would work out this well!
Hermione refused to turn around and instead decidedly - not stubbornly because she refused to admit that Dean was right - stared at the floor.
Draco's smirk was pure sin as he stared at the blushing brunette. She was so bloody beautiful. "What time should I meet you Granger?"
"She will meet you at Seamus' new cafe at 7 tonight."
Traitor! Dean Thomas was a traitor and she was going to break the wards to his home and burn his Celine Dion collection!
The blonde merely gave a low chuckle that was really far too attractive for his own good before swooping down and placing a soft kiss on Hermione's mop of curls.
The action had been so slight - or perhaps her hair was just that thick - that she barely felt it, but she knew very well what the sly Slytherin had done and before she could say anything, his long, muscular legs were sweeping him out of the shop.
"Dear Merlin. That was sexy and adorable all at once. Is that even possible?" Dean commented with a breahty sigh.
Hermione turned towards her former housemate and scowled.
"Oh don't look like that little luv. It's a good thing tall, blonde and shaggable over there is taking you out on a date. You need to be fucked six ways to Sunday and loosen up," Dead replied without any shame. "Although considering this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about, you'll probably not be able to walk after."
Hermione could only blush horribly at the implication and damn her because the other part of her was oh so very intrigued. Perhaps she did have a type after all.
Despite this, she was still burning his Celine Dion collection.
AN: This was just a short and simple read. Randomly wrote it out after reading another random Hermione x Draco fic. I may or may not add on to this in the future.
I enjoy Hermione x Draco together (even though I know that it would not work out in canon) Fiction is a beautiful thing.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed. I may make this into a series and write Hermione with different men that her her "type"
- Banana Flavored Eskimo