Something About Malfoy

~ skepsis66

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fanfiction as they are the property and product of the wonderful imagination of J. K. Rowling. They only thing I own so far is the plot. If I include any random characters that have names that cannot be found in any of the Harry Potter books into this story later, then and only then will anything belong to me.

A/N: My first fanfiction! I'm so excited. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Updating may pose a problem since this is my first time, but I'll do my best.

Chapter One: The Quirks of Curiosity

Swoosh. Clatter. Swipe. Swoosh. Clatter. Swipe. Swoosh. Clatter. Swipe.

Hermione glanced irritably across the table at her source of annoyance – namely, the Draco Malfoy.

His quill had never stopped moving in the half hour they had been here already – though, to her chagrin, not because he was writing and contributing generously to their combined project, but because it was still dancing the complex swirling pattern his pale right hand was directing it to. She never really expected him to help much; everyone knew that the day that Malfoy cooperated with somebody other than the pureblooded dimwits he called friends, much less a muggleborn, was the day that the world would end.

But one would expect him to at least contribute something to this project that was as much his as well as Hermione's – it was worth thirty percent of their total Charms mark. But honestly, Hermione didn't think that this torture was beneath him – the smug idiot that he was. It offended her even more that he wasn't nearly as intellectually incompetent as she would like to think and that his marks were only marginally behind hers when he didn't seem to do any study at all.

He was impossible, Hermione decided angrily, he had not even bothered to lift one finger to help her in their project – the keyword being their. His expensively-clad feet lay insolently crossed on the library table they were working at as he lounged lazily in his chair and continued to play with his quill, which Hermione highly suspected was inlaid with real gold. That was something else that bothered her to no end – how he would unashamedly flaunt his wealth in others' faces.

He had no respect for anyone either, Hermione thought – the way he looked down his aristocratic nose at everyone, including his 'friends' who would probably ditch him in a second if he wasn't a Malfoy. Just who did he think he was; strutting around like a puffed up peacock and crowing about how he was better than others. But Hermione had to give him credit; he always went about his insulting with a subtlety that was enough to convey his message, but not enough to be accused of doing anything wrong.

She glowered at him over her large pile of books as he continued to ignore her. While her side of the table was littered with books and scraps of parchment, which bore her hard work, his side was glaringly bare. They had not spoken a word to one another in their project session and the silence was getting rather oppressive. Hermione definitely wasn't going to be the first one to talk break the silence, or the ferret's rather large ego would inflate ten times again.

Argh! And the smirk that was constantly plastered to his stupid alabaster face made her hand itch with the urge to slap him silly. She wished that he would just fall off the chair and die – the day that happened would be the happiest day of her miserable existence. But humans didn't die so easily – and Malfoy, no matter how much Hermione wished, was still a human despite all his faults. Hermione brushed some stray curls away from her face and glared at him again as she contemplated this impossible situation.

Why Professor Flitwick had decided to pair them together for their Charms project was beyond her. It was clear that he was going senile if he thought this would, what did he say – 'work out wonderfully'. Come on! To say that her and Malfoy did not get along would be the understatement of the year. They had seven years of hatred, enmity and the deepest loathing behind their 'wonderful' relationship.

The name-calling and derisive attitude, despite all her denial, had undoubtedly hurt her. Every single jab that he made had made her heart twinge. She wasn't the most confident girl and definitely not the most beautiful or anything special. All she had were her smarts, and for Malfoy to bring her down about that was about the lowest thing anyone could do. That git had absolutely no idea what it was like to be an outsider to the wizarding world; what it was like to be looked down upon and teased.

He was the first person to call her a mudblood – and it had stung. Hermione couldn't understand what it was about her that was so bad. What had she ever done to him to deserve this? She had soon realized that she hadn't done anything to him – and frankly, to ridicule someone like that without cause was another one of the reasons that she had come to dislike him so much.

Hermione glanced up at Malfoy again and was surprised to see mercurial eyes gazing back at her. She had never really looked at his eyes before and it was slightly unnerving what she saw – or didn't see there. It was as if there was a wall behind his eyes that blocked everything he was feeling or thinking inside. The most that she could do was sense the intelligent person (as much as she hated to admit) that lay behind this wall of ice.

Her natural curiosity was slightly piqued. Hermione, despite all pretences, was curious about what had happened to make Malfoy so cold. Nobody was born that way – so his circumstances would have probably brought about the Malfoy sitting across from her. Her mind raced; come to think of it, he had been acting un-Malfoy-like this whole year…

She was startled out of her thoughts when a familiar drawl reached her ears.

"Why Granger, I always knew you had a thing for me – but I'm afraid you'll have to keep your hands to yourself, and your eyes for that matter. Even if I was taken, I think it would suffice to say that you're a little too domineering for my tastes."

Her eyes narrowed in indignation at him and all her previous thoughts flew out the window as he preened himself. She opened her mouth to retort.

"Domineering? Domineering? You think I'm Domineering? How ridiculous! If you want domineering, just look in the mirror at your lousy no good self! That's domineering! The way you look down your nose at everyone just because you think you're so good and order all your little Slytherin minions around. They would wipe your pale placid ass if you ordered them to – and with your laziness, I wouldn't be surprised if they did."

Malfoy smiled back at her smugly, "I'm astonished Granger, that you could come up with such a wonderful suggestion. I'll try it out tonight – see if it works as well as you say. I'll give you full credit for the development too if it works. Then again, you should really try it too – I'm sure Potty and the Weasel would love to comply."

Hermione bristled with rage and spluttered at his rudeness. "You know what, why don't you just crawl back to whatever hole you came out of with your little girlfriend Parkinson and do me a favour and die!"

"I'm afraid I can't make any promises – I'm not sure about Parkinson, but a Malfoy's word is always has to be upheld."

Hermione huffed as Malfoy smirked, knowing that he had won this argument. It was all in a day in the life of Hermione Granger and as expected, they went back to ignoring one another.

Hermione had never really thought about Malfoy that much before now, sitting stiffly with him at opposite ends of the large library table, but he had always come across to her as an arrogant, pureblooded and prejudiced slug. But there had been some changes that hadn't failed to escape her attention. After sixth year, no one had expected him to return to Hogwarts – no one had even known if it Hogwarts was opening again. Everyone was all surprise when he showed his face and strolled into the Great Hall as if nothing had happened.

Yes, there were rumours and whispered stories, but nobody really knew what had happened. Not even Slytherin House dared to question their king. So the rumours were just rumours and the stories were just stories; there was an unspoken agreement that the truth would remain a secret.

When Malfoy had come back, Hermione had expected the usual mudblood comments and back-handed stabs but so far this year, not a word had been uttered between them unless it was the strained polite phrases they were forced to speak in class or small offhand remarks about her appearance, studies or anything else just to annoy her. There were absolutely no comments about her parentage at all – to say she had been surprised would not have done this situation justice.

He didn't irritate Harry and Ron much anymore when passing them in the hallways or bait their volatile tempers. Sure he still insulted her quite a lot (much more than he did now to Harry and Ron), but it only seemed half-hearted – lacking the malice and satisfaction there was in his words during earlier years. It was just inexplicable.

Something about Draco Malfoy intrigued her – there always seemed to be an atmosphere of mystery that stalked his steps now-a-days. He was a mixture of everything that she hated and wanted. For one, he was confident, but displayed this through his arrogance. He was intelligent; his marks were only second to hers despite him seeming to do it without even studying. He was prejudiced, cold and calculating yet at the same time was commanding, elegant, and (no matter how much she denied it) rather handsome in a sharp sort of way.

But the one thing that was more infinitely intriguing to Hermione than any other of Malfoy's quirks was the air of loneliness that always seemed to envelop him. Despite all his 'friends', popularity, riches and his 'pure' lineage, he was, in her eyes, one of the loneliest people she had ever known. A queer observation, she knew, but true nonetheless.

Sneaking another look at Malfoy, she saw that he had finally ceased twirling his quill and had started to work. Hermione knew that there was something about Malfoy – and that she would never be satisfied until she found out what it was.

A/N: Hope you liked it and I'm always open to suggestions to where the story's going.