Build Your Own Disaster

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy had grey eyes, white-blond hair, and a pale complexion. His face had always been pointy. His chin, cheekbones, jaw and brow bone will all be sharp someday once he loses what he referred to as his 'baby fat' - and that day could not come sooner. He felt like a block of marble waiting to be chiseled. It was a difficult summer alone with his parents.

Nothing he did was good enough for them. He could not have been more racist or bigoted if he tried. He has been trying to live up to their expectations for years, to gain their approval and sympathy. He lost a lot of potential-friends in the process. The old ways were dying.

It has gotten to the point where he thinks nothing will satisfy Lucius and Narcissa. As the Malfoy protocol went, Draco applied himself hard from the beginning of his Sixth Year. He hit the ground running, staying up late writing essays and reading the textbooks for exams. He took notes from Hermione Granger's methods, his long-time crush. He admired her thick curly dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned complexion.

Over the first few weeks, her tan faded to olive. Part of him was jealous of her: she was a person who likely enjoyed adequate parenting. She grew more beautiful with each passing year. Sometime when she was fourteen, she started putting effort into her looks. Now it was more than Draco whom have taken notice of her development into a woman. Draco noticed when she wore eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, or a tinted lip balm.

It couldn't be clearer that she did these changes for herself, not to attract anyone. She was a confident young witch. She was everything Draco wished he was. Other than studying, he was not living up to her standards. Quidditch season was about to start.

He did not feel alarm with how much roomier his pants were becoming or how he had to frequently pull up his slipping waistband. He just didn't have the time. One night in October, he did notice with annoyance how the hundreds of candles floating around could not keep him warm. He could hardly drink his iced pumpkin juice without shivering.

"You're cold?" Blaise Zabini asked, brows raised.

He was a tall, dark-skinned Sytherin boy with slanted eyes and was not wearing his cloak. It had been weeks since someone showed concern for Draco so he did not recognize it at once.

Draco cleared his throat and admitted, "A bit."

Pansy passed him the kettle, "Here, have some of this."

She had a longtime crush on Draco but the feelings weren't returned. Still, he swapped his pumpkin juice for the tea. Draco found he liked being dotted upon. His parents used to when he was younger. Now, he had to repay them for their kindness tenfold.

He was starved and his anxiety was revving up his already-fast metabolism. It was usually the opposite for most people - stress usually lead to weight gain, not loss. Draco drew as much of his tall frame to himself while he tucked into his steak and kidney pie. He was approaching 5'10" at sixteen years old so attempting to disappear was quite a feat.

Draco grew up never missing a meal. If he goes hungry, his mind slips and he is bound to make mistakes which would infuriate his parents. He scowled over at Harry Potter. Draco was becoming so thin, he was giving Harry a run for his galleons.

"Harry's looking as narrow as ever." he commented.

Draco had always been slender but Harry had been underweight since the day they met. Now Draco was bordering the unhealthy-side of skinny with the Chosen One. Harry at least didn't have the bags under his striking emerald eyes. Otherwise, their bodies were close to identical. Well, at least in Blaise's opinion.

"You're thin, too." Blaise pointed out. "Eat more, mate. Potter will have the edge if you get swept off your broom in the wind."

Again, Draco's heart skipped. That summer, he had experienced nothing but hostility. He smothered his meal with gravy for good measure. Draco warmed up considerably with his steak and kidney pie. But something was wrong - his stomach appeared to have shrunken over the beginning of the semester.

So, he had to abandon his meal sooner than usual. While trying to find a position most comfortable for his full stomach, Draco spotted Hermione Granger. She had her hair tied back in a plait so he missed her at first. Nothing would set his parents off more than dating a muggleborn and the summer left Draco feeling rather rebellious. Fantasizing about that happening was a moot point because Hermione hated Draco to the bone.

"When did Granger get fit?" Blaise whispered to Draco.

Draco widened his eyes at Blaise and set his tongue to deny it. But, ever since he was eleven, he found the muggleborn pretty. Even when her two front teeth were too large. She was one of those natural beauties who did not require any makeup to be attractive. When she came with Viktor Krum to the Yule Ball in their Fourth Year, he was gob smacked.

Luckily, she did not stick with the program to make herself look that great. Or else Draco would never have been able to hide his true feelings. Ignore her scent of vanilla orchids and blackberries. Her brown doe eyes. Her long curly dark hair -

"She's not!" Draco spat.

Blaise chuckled, "Hey, she grabbed the eye of a world famous Seeker. She can take mine as well." He then added quickly, "If you tell anyone, I'll -!"

"I wouldn't." Draco assured him.

Forget angering his parents - fancying Hermione Granger would be tantamount to treason in their strict Pureblood society. He would be ostracized and hunted by the Deatheaters. Draco understood Blaise's sudden panic. Blaise nodded curtly and they spoke no more about the muggleborn.

Knees first, then shoulder, lastly the right side of her face. Hermione crumbled to the ground. Without thinking of the consequences, Draco rushed to her. She was sitting up and pressing her hand to her cheekbone. Facing away from him. From behind, Draco scooped her up by her waist and set her on her feet.

The curve of her waist was soft and she probably weighed at least 130 pounds. Blaise would say that much of that was in her breasts and hips. She was one of the first witches in their Year to start puberty. What Draco noted the most was how much she was trembling. She must be in pain. Hopefully, it's only the shock of the fall.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his deep voice silky and smooth.

Hermione shook her head, "I dunno. My sight went all funny -"

She turned and gasped when she saw who had helped her. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. Draco watched the confusion and mistrust battle to settle on her beautiful face. Her cheekbone did not appear to be bruised, only pinked. But the shoulder of her robe was ripped and her knees were skinned above her stockings.

Draco was more than a head taller than her, her head barely at his shoulder. Hermione gulped a few times, probably trying to come up with a retort. Send him packing with a jinx. Draco was half-wishing that she would. But confusion was winning her battle. Perhaps she did hit her head harder than it looked.

She should go to the Hospital Wing -

"Hermione?" came the voices of Harry and Ron. "Where are you? Hermione!"

Draco turned in the direction of those voices while Hermione continued to stare at him, trying to figure him out. He needed to leave. With Hermione injured, Potter and Weasley could only assume the worst if they found Draco mere feet from her. He would bring about the wrath of both the Chosen One & that Blood Traitor, which would be more than Draco could handle without Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. Maybe Harry & Ron's arrival would bring her back to her senses.

Remember that he is her bully and enemy. Not a young man who would lift her back to her feet. Care that she was hurt. Draco met Hermione's eyes one last time before departing with a swish of his cloak. He hid himself on the other side of the stone wall, careful to hide his head from the window.

"Hermione, what happened?" asked Ron.

"It's okay." She replied shakily. "I'm okay."

"What happened?" Ron repeated with an edge to his voice.

"It's really not a big deal, guys. I just tripped, hit my head a little."

Draco remembered her saying that her sight had 'gone funny'. She really should get that checked out -

"Your pupils are dilated a lot." Harry commented. "Com'on. Let Madam Pomfrey check you over."

Draco sighed with relief. He heard her friends gathering her overstuffed book bag. Judging by Ron's grunt, he had just slung it on his shoulder. Draco chanced peeking at the window. He looked for less than a second and pulled his head back.

Harry was doubled over, examining her knees. Ron did have her book bag on his shoulder as well as his own on the opposite shoulder like a pack mule. Ron was almost a head taller than Draco, the same height as Crabbe and Goyle. Harry was roughly the same height as Draco but much thinner. It would be unusual if Harry had not maintained that malnourished-look to him all his years at Hogwarts.

Draco had watched Hermione prepare Harry's meals every now and again in the Great Hall, pestering him to eat every bite. She took to the underdog. What Draco would do to get her attention, have her pity.

"Did someone attack you?" asked Ron.

"That large step." Hermione scoffed.

"You carry too much, Hermione." said Harry. "I bet you were reading and walking, weren't you?"

Draco smirked and let out a quiet chuckle. He listened to Hermione refute Harry, making them all laugh. Soon their voices faded away to the upper floors. His face fell when he realized she would not tell Potter and Weasley who had helped her. Maybe she was thinking she had a concussion and Draco was the result of it.

If Draco were honest with himself, he didn't blame her and should feel relieved. Instead, he was disappointed.