"Come on, Mione, it's just ONE gig. It won't kill you." Begged her agent, Theo Nott.
They were standing at the pool of her mansion in muggle London discussing the upcoming performance.
"But he's a horrid prat." She moaned. Theo wanted her to perform with Draco Malfoy, ferret extraordinaire. Hermione was pissed.
"OK. Fine. But if he insults me or my family or my friends, I'll hex the balls off of him. Deal?" Theo gulped, he hoped Malfoy would behave.
"Sure, babe, I'll do my best." He kissed her lightly on the cheek and left. Hermione wished that Theo wasn't gay. He was funny, handsome, arrogant and intelligent.
She sighed and walked into her house.
It wasn't that she hated him, it was just that he hated her. He hated her for being muggle-born.
He was handsome though. She had to give him that.
No, that was a lie, he wasn't just handsome. He was heart-wrenchingly, jaw-droppingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.
She walked into her room and flopped onto her couch with her guitar.
She was so tired, she'd been up all night. She couldn't help falling asleep.
Draco was pissed off. He didn't want to perform with Hermione. It was bad enough that she was dead smart, but add stunningly beautiful to that and you got a woman that you didn't want to cross.
The fact that she hated his guts didn't help matters much.
But he respected her. She was smart and even he couldn't deny it.
She was a muggle-born, but since the fall of the Dark Lord he hadn't minded. It was his dad that had always made him hate them. His father had died in the war.
Nott had come to his house and asked him to perform with her, he cursed himself for agreeing. In his hand he held her house address. He was supposed to floo himself over there.
He took one last glance in the mirror. He wanted to look his best for the agonizingly sexy witch.
His hair was a silvery-blonde color, and his eyes were a unique grey-blue. He had pale skin, and a finely chiseled face. He was hot and he damn well knew it.
He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and muscled arms. The shirt fit to perfection on him, his rock-hard chest showed clearly through.
Draco though ironically that if Hermione didn't hate his guts, she'd be his perfect partner. She was gorgeous, hyper, smart, sarcastic and, above all, not intimidated by him in any way.
He sighed and stepped into his fireplace, he said her address and closed his eyes. He felt the familiar whoosh feeling and landed straight on his arse outside her fireplace.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Hermione was asleep. Not even lightly sleeping, no, she was dead asleep.
He didn't know what to do. Should he wake her up? Yes, that would be a good idea. But he didn't want to do that. What if she punched him again?
Oh yeah, another one of Draco Malfoy's reasons to love Hermione Granger. She packed a great left-hook.
Before he couldn't contemplate further about whether to wake her up or not, he was hit by such a strong binding curse that he rocketed backwards.
OK. Hermione had woken up and found him staring blankly at her as she slept. Great first impression.
Draco was glad he was a strong wizard, he performed some non verbal magic and released himself from the body-bind curse. It wasn't as easy as he'd hoped. He had to wiggle a little bit while Hermione looked on amusedly.