I unfortunately don't own Harry Potter. All credit belongs to JK Rowling, fabulous woman she is. I only own the plot of this story. Enjoy :)
This is sort of a continuation of Red, Blood Red. A prequel, of sorts. I plan on doing more as soon as inspiration strikes, each story covering their relationship up until Red, Blood Red. If you haven't read it, then that's okay. It's probably better that way.
Draco sat at the Slytherin table, pondering how he was going to finish repairing the Vanishing Cabinet. If he didn't finish it, the Dark Lord would most likely kill his mother. And then him. Draco wasn't scared to die. But he wanted to protect his mother. He didn't care much for his father, rotten bastard he was. A little voice popped up in the back of his head like it always does, nagging him and suggesting horrible things. But Draco, your father made you just like him: sick and blood thirsty. It's a family trait.
Draco shook his head to get rid of the voice. When that didn't help, he started scanning the room to find something to focus on, to center his thoughts before he saw red. Stupid Head Healer. I don't need potions to help me.
Unfortunately for Draco, he could only see red. For his eyes had rested on the Gryffindor table, where the two youngest Weasleys sat, right next to Potter. Sandwiched between Potter and King Weasley was Granger, her hair less bushier than usual. Draco's breath hitched in his throat. Had Granger always been beautiful? Since when did her hair shine in the light? Since when were her lips that beautiful shade of red? Since when did she… glow?
He couldn't help but watch her from across the Great Hall, laughing along to what bloody Weasley was whispering into her ear. Her laugh sounds like beautiful bells, like a siren song from the old Greek tales Mother used to read to me. Beautiful and alluring.
Her beautiful round brown eyes met his piercing grey ones, and a deep red blush, one that would rival Weasley's hair, crept up her cheeks, turning her beautiful creamy skin a blotchy color. Even when she blushes she's beautiful.
Hermione's eyes widen, and she quickly looks away, embarrassed and unnerved by the platinum blonde's unwavering and soul piercing gaze. No, look at me, you beautiful creature. Look at me with those brown eyes of yours.
Almost as if she heard his thoughts, she looks back at him, never tearing her eyes away. Draco enjoyed staring at her immensely, only because her eyes centered him. It was as if everything had faded away, and all that was left was her, her big brown eyes full of wonder and a burning fire; those eyes, the only things keeping his dark thoughts at bay. The demons that resided in him quieted, silent. A new voice in the back of his head began chanting her name. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. She's all you'll ever need. She's the one Draco. Take her as yours.
Hermione stood up from the table, and what from Draco could make out, said she was going to the library. The Gryffindors all said their goodbyes, and she left the Great Hall, bookbag swinging full of homework and books. Draco got up, his friends not noticing him. He strode after Hermione, following her closely, but making sure not to alert her that he was doing so. Instead of going to the library, she stopped near a portrait of an old wizard, and looked around nervously. Sure that no one was around, she turned and looked at the portrait, and said "Horklump."
The portrait swung open, and she walked through it. After a few minutes, Draco walked up to the painting, said "Horklump," and entered. Rows upon rows of book shelves lined the room, all old and musty. Must be a secret studying spot. A fireplace crackled in the corner. His eyes scanned the room, and he located her, and promptly hid behind a bookshelf to avoid being spotted.
There she was, sitting in an armchair, surrounded by books, a heavy volume sitting on her lap. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun, her wand in her mouth, resting between her teeth, her robes discarded on the floor. Even her loafers were off, no doubt kicked haphazardly off her feet. She was still in her jumper and skirt, a intense look of concentration on her face. She looked beautiful. While admiring her, Draco's arm slipped, knocking over a few books. Hermione's head snapped up, her wand instantly falling out of her mouth and into her hand.
"Who's there?" she said in a stern yet wavering voice.
Draco held his breath. He let it out slowly. I'm going to get hexed to bits. He called out from behind the bookshelf, "It's Malfoy. Draco."
He could see her tense up. "How did you get in here? Did you follow me?"
He stepped out from behind the shelf, walking closer to the brunette witch. Hermione tightened her hold on her wand. "Yes. I followed you."
"Why?"
Insufferable witch. "I honestly don't know. You were glowing to me. The light around you called me like a siren song."
A look of incredulity crosses her face. "A siren? How do I know you're not lying? I've seen you when you're all alone you know. You mutter under your breath, talking about nonsensical things. I've seen you torture some of the wild pixies in the forest."
"So it seems that you've also been following me for some time. Why did you follow me into the forest?" Draco asked, biting back a smirk.
"Harry fancies the notion that you're a Death Eater. So I did a little reconnaissance mission of sorts. I followed you one night. You're a sociopath, Malfoy."
"What did you call me?"
"A sociopath. You're psychotic. You torture things for fun. You exhibit sociopathic tendencies. You enjoy inflicting pain on others with no remorse. It's a Muggle term."
"Huh. Didn't think there was a name for it." Draco leans closer to the nervous witch. He places a hand over hers, lowering her wand. "Head Healers just say it's probably something my father gave me. A sickness of the mind, they say."
She looks at his hand covering hers. "Why are you touching me? Aren't you repulsed by the fact that I'm a Mudblood? As you've eloquently put it?"
Draco looks deep into her eyes. "Oddly enough, I could give less than a Hippogriff's arse if you were part troll. I'm too enamoured by you to care. It's like everything falls away when I look at you. You are like the light in the dark. You quiet the voices." He leans closer, eyeing her lips. They're so red. Like the color of blood. "And I have an odd urge to kiss you."
Her lips part, and she pants softly. "Oh really? And if I object?"
Draco chuckles darkly. "Oh trust me, you won't." And with that, he presses his hard, demanding lips against her soft, warm ones, and kisses passionately.
She struggles against him, and finally manages to slap him across the face, taking him by surprise, and casts a Full Body Bind on him. He falls to the floor, the ropes tightening around him.
"Clever witch," he manages to gasp out as she gathers her things.
She leans down, her sweet breath fanning his face. "Malfoy, you are and always will be an insufferable git. If you ever kiss me without my consent again, I will hex your bollocks off." With that, she storms towards the exit, and stops, turning around and pointing her wand at him. "Finite Incantatem!"
The ropes loosen, and she hurriedly exits the room. Draco sits up, brushing off his robes, and rubs his stinging cheek. Staring after her, he smiles, and exhales deeply. "Granger," he whispers under his breath. "Why did it have to be her?"
She's a siren alright. A brown eyed siren. And she's leading me to my inevitable doom.