It was a warm, sunny day in mid-September. While Draco could have been
outside with his two sidekicks (trying to push people in the lake), he was
walking through the hallways of the castle on his way to his first Head
Boy/Head Girl meeting. He, of course, was the Head Boy.
The only two candidates candidates for Head Boy were himself and Harry Potter. Draco knew that if it were up to the teachers, Potter would win, hands down. But by a lucky chance, it wasn't up to the teachers. They didn't have any say in it at all.
Professor Dumbledore had spoken to Harry and Draco privately on the first day of classes, informing them on his decision. "The only reason you were chosen, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly, "is because Mr. Potter is till in a great deal of danger, as Lord Voldemort is still in power and has not yet been captured. I feel that becoming Head Boy would cause a bit of unwanted publicity, which would not be safe for him at this time."
Dumbledore had gone on to apologize to Harry, and then sent him on his way. He then explained all the duties of being Head Boy, but Draco wasn't listening. All he could think about was that he, Draco Malfoy, had beaten the famous Harry Potter for Head Boy.
Harry didn't seem to be too bothered that he hadn't received the honors of being Head Boy. After all, he was the most popular boy in school, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and had a girlfriend who was the object of every boy at Hogwarts affection. She was also the Head Girl.
She was, of course, Hermione Granger.
Hermione Granger was not the bossy, know it all that so many people had gotten to know. Well, actually, she was still a bit bossy and almost too smart for her own good, but that was beside the point. Her bushy mane transformed over the years into a head of silky, tousled curls, and her skinny frame became a body with curves in all the right places. She was perfect in Draco's eyes, despite the fact that she was a Muggle-born, a Gryffindor Muggle-born. He, like so many other boys, wanted her, but they couldn't have her, and that made her all the more irresistible.
As Draco turned down the hall toward the room where he and Hermione had arranged to meet, his thoughts turned to her. He knew how Hermione felt about him. She thought he was a cold, heartless asshole who had no other purpose in life except to make other's miserable. Which was true sometimes, but he couldn't help it. The insults just came out. He was raised in a family that promoted putting others down, especially Mudbloods. '
"Filthy Mudbloods!" Draco could hear his father's voice echoing in his head. "Don't ever have anything to do with them, Draco. Their magic will never be as good as a pureblood's. They shouldn't even be allowed at Hogwarts!"
Draco school his head, trying to rid his brain of those untrue thoughts. As he approached the door of the meeting room, he whispered to himself, "Be nice, Draco. Be nice."
Smoothing down his hair, he turned the handle, pushed the door open, and swaggered in. Hermione sat stiffly in a chair, her right leg crossed over her left, and a Muggle notebook across her lap. She was writing something, and she didn't acknowledge that Draco was there at all.
"Hello to you too, Granger," Draco said nastily, taking a seat across from Hermione. He scowled, pretending to be angry. Inside he was kicking himself. Why couldn't he just be nice? Why?
Hermione looked up and scowled right back. Draco could feel his face flush as her big brown eyes bored into his.
"Look, Malfoy," she snapped icily. "We are going to make this short and quick. I don't want to be here any more than you do. Don't make this difficult!"
But I do want to be here! Draco cried inside his head. I could stay in here with you forever!
"Mudbloods, Draco, " his father's voice echoed again. "The filth of the wizarding race!"
"Fine, Granger," Draco replied, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. "If you want to be that way, fine."
Hermione turned to a fresh page in her notebook. "Well, Malfoy, how would you like to do this? Why don't you decide? You're the Head Boy."
Draco leaned forward. He sneered. "Well, you're the Head Girl. The Head Girl who's top of the class, who's just so smart, who thinks she can take control of everything."
She took a deep breath. He could see he was getting to her, but he didn't get the same pleasure as he usually did.
She leaned forward like him, keeping her face a few inches away from his. "What do you want from me, Malfoy?" she whispered. "Why are you like this?"
Draco stared into her eyes. They were a warm, chestnut brown, and they searched his own gray ones, looking for an answer. Looking for a weakness, for something that could prove he wasn't the rebel he seemed to be.
Little does she know, that thing is her, Draco thought.
Her jaw was set. She was prepared for an insult, for a smart-ass comment. It didn't come.
"I-I…" he stuttered. "I don't know."
Her face softened a little. Draco expected her to say something kind, something to prove she understood how he felt. But that was too much to hope for.
She laughed. "The great Draco Malfoy, God's gift to mankind, doesn't know what he wants? Please tell me you're kidding."
Draco said nothing. He sat back in his chair, staring furiously at the wall behind Hermione. He didn't blink; he didn't look at her. He didn't do anything at all. He could feel Hermione's eyes burning into him, but he didn't care.
"Malfoy?" Hermione said impatiently. "Back to Earth."
Draco was silent for a moment before he finally spoke.
"You think you know everything, don't you?" he said quietly. "You think that because you have two surrogate big brothers to take care of you, one of them your boyfriend, and that you're top of the class, and that every guy in this school wants you, including me, you have the whole world on your side. You think that you've got it all figured out. Well, things don't work out that way, Hermione. They just don't."
He left Hermione sitting there, gaping at him, as he walked calmly from the room.
The only two candidates candidates for Head Boy were himself and Harry Potter. Draco knew that if it were up to the teachers, Potter would win, hands down. But by a lucky chance, it wasn't up to the teachers. They didn't have any say in it at all.
Professor Dumbledore had spoken to Harry and Draco privately on the first day of classes, informing them on his decision. "The only reason you were chosen, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly, "is because Mr. Potter is till in a great deal of danger, as Lord Voldemort is still in power and has not yet been captured. I feel that becoming Head Boy would cause a bit of unwanted publicity, which would not be safe for him at this time."
Dumbledore had gone on to apologize to Harry, and then sent him on his way. He then explained all the duties of being Head Boy, but Draco wasn't listening. All he could think about was that he, Draco Malfoy, had beaten the famous Harry Potter for Head Boy.
Harry didn't seem to be too bothered that he hadn't received the honors of being Head Boy. After all, he was the most popular boy in school, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and had a girlfriend who was the object of every boy at Hogwarts affection. She was also the Head Girl.
She was, of course, Hermione Granger.
Hermione Granger was not the bossy, know it all that so many people had gotten to know. Well, actually, she was still a bit bossy and almost too smart for her own good, but that was beside the point. Her bushy mane transformed over the years into a head of silky, tousled curls, and her skinny frame became a body with curves in all the right places. She was perfect in Draco's eyes, despite the fact that she was a Muggle-born, a Gryffindor Muggle-born. He, like so many other boys, wanted her, but they couldn't have her, and that made her all the more irresistible.
As Draco turned down the hall toward the room where he and Hermione had arranged to meet, his thoughts turned to her. He knew how Hermione felt about him. She thought he was a cold, heartless asshole who had no other purpose in life except to make other's miserable. Which was true sometimes, but he couldn't help it. The insults just came out. He was raised in a family that promoted putting others down, especially Mudbloods. '
"Filthy Mudbloods!" Draco could hear his father's voice echoing in his head. "Don't ever have anything to do with them, Draco. Their magic will never be as good as a pureblood's. They shouldn't even be allowed at Hogwarts!"
Draco school his head, trying to rid his brain of those untrue thoughts. As he approached the door of the meeting room, he whispered to himself, "Be nice, Draco. Be nice."
Smoothing down his hair, he turned the handle, pushed the door open, and swaggered in. Hermione sat stiffly in a chair, her right leg crossed over her left, and a Muggle notebook across her lap. She was writing something, and she didn't acknowledge that Draco was there at all.
"Hello to you too, Granger," Draco said nastily, taking a seat across from Hermione. He scowled, pretending to be angry. Inside he was kicking himself. Why couldn't he just be nice? Why?
Hermione looked up and scowled right back. Draco could feel his face flush as her big brown eyes bored into his.
"Look, Malfoy," she snapped icily. "We are going to make this short and quick. I don't want to be here any more than you do. Don't make this difficult!"
But I do want to be here! Draco cried inside his head. I could stay in here with you forever!
"Mudbloods, Draco, " his father's voice echoed again. "The filth of the wizarding race!"
"Fine, Granger," Draco replied, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. "If you want to be that way, fine."
Hermione turned to a fresh page in her notebook. "Well, Malfoy, how would you like to do this? Why don't you decide? You're the Head Boy."
Draco leaned forward. He sneered. "Well, you're the Head Girl. The Head Girl who's top of the class, who's just so smart, who thinks she can take control of everything."
She took a deep breath. He could see he was getting to her, but he didn't get the same pleasure as he usually did.
She leaned forward like him, keeping her face a few inches away from his. "What do you want from me, Malfoy?" she whispered. "Why are you like this?"
Draco stared into her eyes. They were a warm, chestnut brown, and they searched his own gray ones, looking for an answer. Looking for a weakness, for something that could prove he wasn't the rebel he seemed to be.
Little does she know, that thing is her, Draco thought.
Her jaw was set. She was prepared for an insult, for a smart-ass comment. It didn't come.
"I-I…" he stuttered. "I don't know."
Her face softened a little. Draco expected her to say something kind, something to prove she understood how he felt. But that was too much to hope for.
She laughed. "The great Draco Malfoy, God's gift to mankind, doesn't know what he wants? Please tell me you're kidding."
Draco said nothing. He sat back in his chair, staring furiously at the wall behind Hermione. He didn't blink; he didn't look at her. He didn't do anything at all. He could feel Hermione's eyes burning into him, but he didn't care.
"Malfoy?" Hermione said impatiently. "Back to Earth."
Draco was silent for a moment before he finally spoke.
"You think you know everything, don't you?" he said quietly. "You think that because you have two surrogate big brothers to take care of you, one of them your boyfriend, and that you're top of the class, and that every guy in this school wants you, including me, you have the whole world on your side. You think that you've got it all figured out. Well, things don't work out that way, Hermione. They just don't."
He left Hermione sitting there, gaping at him, as he walked calmly from the room.
