A/N: Harry Potter and his world all belong to J.K. Rowling
Afflictions of a Jealous Heart
Draco watched hungrily as Granger made her way across the Entrance Hall. She was enchanting; her thick brown hair left a sweet, slightly musky scent wherever she walked and her brown eyes were warm and sparkling. It had been a year since Granger had arrived at the Yule Ball – since everything had changed for Draco. That night, he had watched her, watched her exhilaration, her energy, the life that emanated from her and he had become intoxicated. She was like this ball of fire, of light, and it stuck in his head – she was stuck in his head. He hated it, but he was addicted to it. Draco was drunk on the idea of her, drunk on her scent, on her voice, on her everything.
So, he began to watch her from the shadows. It was fitting that he would lurk in the dark, as he himself was bathed in shadow, in darkness. Perhaps that was why he was so infatuated by Granger; she was the embodiment of light, of life and of goodness. She was everything that he was not. Whatever it was, all Draco knew was that she had somehow gotten into his veins. His blood pulsed to the rhythm of her footsteps, heart drummed in time to hers. It infuriated Draco. He felt out of control, but still he continued to watch her, to feast on her with his eyes, to feed the addiction he harboured inside of him.
Draco leaned against the bannister of the Grand Staircase and watched her movement, in the shadows as always. Merlin, she was enchanting. The way her shoes tapped on the marble floor, the way her hips swung slightly with every step she took – it was glorious. He rather wished that he could cross the distance between them, catch her wrist and press her up against a wall. He wished he could feel that sort of closeness to her. It came down to, as always, that he was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger, he was cold while she was warm to everything. Draco loved seeing that warmth, that fire, so much so that he had recently begun picking on her relentlessly, willing her to snap so he could watch the heat, the intensity pour out of her. He wanted her to rage against him, and then when she was tired he wanted to hold her. To feel her in his arms.
Granger had reached the oak doors leading outside, and as she was about to pull them open someone on the other side pushed. To dodge the great piece of wood, Granger jumped backwards, but she misplaced her foot and fell unceremoniously to the floor. Blaise Zabini, who had been the one to open the door and cause the whole mess, rushed to her side, "Granger, I'm sorry! Are you okay? I didn't realise anyone was there. Are you hurt?"
Draco watched in disgust as Granger turned those deep, honey eyes onto Zabini.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine." She pulled herself up and dusted off her robes. "Not your fault Zabini, I should have been more careful."
Zabini, the scoundrel, ran his eyes down Granger's figure. Her robes had come undone in the fall and the tight jeans and shirt she wore underneath were very pleasing to the eye. Draco felt like going over there and gouging Zabini's eyes out so he could never again look at her in that way.
"Even so," said Zabini, "I would feel much better if I knew you got to wherever you were headed okay."
Granger eyed him suspiciously. Good girl, thought Draco, you shouldn't trust Zabini. He may be charming but he's still a Slytherin after all. Draco scoffed to himself at that. You're a Slytherin too you great git, he reminded himself.
Draco watched in horror as Granger's eyes warmed. She smiled. Oh, how he wished she would smile like that at him. Fucking Zabini.
"Oh, well, thank you Zabini. I was just headed down to the Quidditch Pitch to see Harry and Ron."
Zabini smiled a pleasant smile. "Well let's go then. Oh and Granger, you have something…" Zabini reached out to pull at Granger's glorious halo of hair. "There!" he said, sending a smile full of charm at her.
A slightly flustered Granger led a smirking Zabini from the Entrance Hall. Draco was furious. He stalked away down to the dungeons, hexing a pair of unfortunate second year Ravenclaw's that crossed his path.
Draco sat languorously across one of the Slytherin green couches in the Common Room, his legs stretched out atop the slightly faded leather. He looked up in a sneer as Blaise Zabini approached the armchair across from him.
Zabini lowered himself elegantly into the chair and nodded towards Draco, "Draco, mate," he extended as a greeting.
Draco curled his upper lip into the characteristic Malfoy sneer. "Zabini," he spat. "I saw you with the Mudblood Granger earlier. You looked almost friendly."
Zabini laughed, his eyes meeting Draco's cold grey ones fiercely. "Draco, my favourite step-father was a Muggleborn wizard… You know that. He was the kindest to me, and the most pleasant with Mother. My lack of hatred for 'Mudbloods' has never bothered you before."
"This is different Zabini and you know it," sneered Draco, pushing himself into an upright position. "It's not just any Mudblood, its Granger! Gryffindor Granger, Pot-head and Weasel's best friend."
"Why are you so bothered by this, Draco?" said Zabini, eying Draco warily.
"I… well… I," stuttered Draco. "It's Granger, for Merlin's sake! She's an infuriating bint."
Zabini watched as something, something akin to warmth flashed through Draco's cold eyes. Zabini laughed haughtily, "Oh, Draco, is that what it is? You have feelings for Granger, don't you?"
Draco was taken aback. "No, Granger, I… Well no of course not… I mean she's a damn Mudblood!" Draco choked out.
"I see. Well, in that case, you won't mind if I – how shall I put this – if I pursue her then, will you?"
"Pursue Granger? Why, I mean, you don't usually go for… her type…" stuttered Draco.
"Yes," said Zabini, amusement tinging his voice. "That's what makes it all the more enjoyable for me."
Draco scowled venomously at Zabini. He couldn't think what else to say to turn him away from Granger so he casually, lazily said, "Well, as you please, Zabini. If you wish to be tainted by her filthy blood, then go ahead, you blood traitor."
Draco cast one last glare at Zabini before rising and leaving for his dormitory.
Blaise Zabini laughed, as heartily as a Zabini could manage. This is going to be fun, he thought to himself.
Over the next few days it seemed to Draco that wherever Granger went, Zabini appeared. He was there when she dropped a large stack of books in the fourth floor corridor, graciously bending to assist in their retrieval. He was there when she tripped and almost fell down a flight of stairs, catching her gently around the waist and setting her carefully to the floor. He was there when Granger stormed away from Potter and Weasley after another of their fights, sitting down next to her in a nook she had fled to and calming her down. Draco watched from the shadows, always from the shadows, as Zabini laid his hands on her, on her face, her wrist, her waist.
It was killing him slowly.
It came to a climax, fittingly, on a stormy day in mid-February. Thick dark clouds crowded the sky, the air; everything seemed dull. Draco retreated to the library, as the Slytherin Common Room wasn't the place to be in those conditions. The gloomy dungeon room seemed simply stifling on days like that, almost like he was drowning. Draco much preferred the library.
Sitting quietly in a corner by himself, Draco was disrupted by a blossom of laughter. Her. Granger. He didn't know how he could tell; there was just something about the energy, the excitement of it. Granger's giggle seemed to echo on. Draco revelled in the sound of it.
"Blaise, shhh, Madam Pince will kick us out… Blaise!"
Her voice speaking his name, it made his heart lurch painfully. Anger surged through him, anger and jealousy too. It was Blaise who was making her laugh like that, Blaise that was making her happy. He could hardly stand it.
Draco heard the thin, pinched voice of Madam Pince, "Miss Granger, Master Zabini, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Hermione's sweet voice replied "I'm so sorry Madam, we'll be quiet. I do really need to work on this."
Madam Pince hmmphed and moved away from the pair. Draco heard Zabini's voice, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm distracting you."
"No, Blaise, it's not a problem."
"Really, Hermione, I have things I should do anyway… I'll see you later?"
Draco watched Zabini saunter away. As if sensing his eyes upon him, Zabini turned in Draco's direction, saw him sitting there and winked. Winked! The audacity of it.
Draco managed to turn his focus back to an essay on the dangers of brewing the Alihotsy draught. Dipping his quill into a pot of ink he wrote "given that the very fumes of the Alihotsy draught can cause hysteria, it is recommended that…" Draco was distracted again when he managed to catch a trace of a very familiar aroma. He glanced up just in time to witness Granger's exit from the library.
Spurred on by the jealousy he harboured toward Zabini and by the growing rage in the depths of his stomach, Draco jumped up, leaving all his belongings on the desk. He stalked hastily after Granger, eyes never leaving the swinging rhythm of her hips. He caught up to her swiftly, grabbed her wrist and yanked her around to face him.
"What… Malfoy! What do you think you're doing?" Annoyance flashed through Granger's eyes.
Without stopping to think, Draco pushed her against the stone wall of the corridor. He entangled his hands into her messy, glorious hair, and bent his head to meet her lips in a crash of lust and envy. He felt Granger tense against him. Draco flicked his tongue against her upper lip, teeth digging into her lower. He growled primitively into her mouth. Granger slowly began to return the kiss. It was rough and it was intense, echoing their relationship.
Draco slowly withdrew, eyes fixed on Granger. His fingers were still caught in the silky strands of her wild hair. He watched her, marvelling in her beauty, lips swollen just so from his attention, a gorgeous rosy flush tinging her slightly freckled cheeks. Draco smirked.
"I… Malfoy, what?" Granger gasped for breath, her chest heaving.
"I don't want to see you with Zabini." Draco snarled. "Ever again."
Fury rose in Granger's eyes.
"You can't tell me what to do!" she said, her voice rising in volume.
Draco was about to bite back at her but something stopped him. He wanted this girl, more than anything. He loved fighting with her, loved seeing the energy it caused, but now was not the time.
"No, Granger, I can't tell you what to do, but I can ask. Please, don't see Zabini anymore."
"What is it to you who I spend time with?"
"Granger, isn't it obvious from what just happened?"
Granger's eyes widened ever so slightly. "What, what did that mean to you Malfoy?"
Draco growled under his breath. "This is what it means Granger."
He bent forward and kissed her once more. Where their last kiss had been passion and fire, this one was tender. Draco ran a finger along the soft skin of Granger's cheek as his lips pressed gently to hers. Granger reached up and hooked her arms around his neck. She moaned into the kiss.
Their lips parted once more, but they maintained their closeness. She, Granger, the girl who had haunted his dreams was now a reality for Draco. He could not bring himself to look away from her.
He watched as she sunk her front teeth into her bottom lip and pulled at it.
"What are you thinking Granger?" he asked in a low, silky voice.
She looked him straight in the eye.
"I'm thinking," she said, visibly drawing her confidence. "I'm thinking… can I call you Draco?"
Pleasure fluttered through Draco as her honeyed voice spoke his name. A smile crossed Draco's face, the first real smile he had ever shown Granger.
"Of course you can, Hermione," he said happily.