This was a rather monotonous start for Draco Malfoy. Since his classes had come back two weeks earlier, everything seemed distant to the boy. The classes were not interesting, the girls much less. He scarcely wanted to disturb the judgment of the first years! He only spent most of his time sitting in a corner farther away, sighing heavily when he thought of a girl.
Hermione Granger.
It was no secret to his family and close friends that he had always been in love with Gryffindor; and as "wrong" as it was to his home and family, he did not care. Being rebellious was in his blood. That is to say, only a little rebellious, since he had never had the guts enough to give her a simple compliment.
Draco was lying under a tree in the gardens with a rather bored countenance until the girl entered his field of vision. Immediately both his heart and his penis were filled with blood; a fact aggravated about a month and a half ago.
During his vacation he had discovered to be a veela. And it was no surprise to anyone that he did not need the next year to find the owner of his heart and soul. He already knew who he was, having been strongly demonstrated on his first night as a creature.
"Oddly he was in the front yard of his house. He had no idea what I was doing there until I smelled a sweet smell coming from his back. Stunned, he turned and saw a shadow behind the bristly feathers of his albino peacock.
"Draco! Are you going to leave me here until when you're waiting?"
"Hermione?" confused, the boy scratches his eyes and sees that slender figure appear, having a dramatic effect when contrasted with the sunlight that almost blinded him when his pet decides to go to another place.
I must note her shock as Hermione came up and hugged her neck.
"What you…?"
"You know what you are, and you already know who I am. Why this delay?" she whispered in his ear.
Since that night, all his dreams were alike, involving him, Hermione and sometimes a bed. She was irritated by everything that could not speak to her personally when in her dreams they had the most intellectual conversations of her life.
Hermione was neither blind nor dumb, let alone stupid. When the rumors about Malfoy's appearance came. She had checked it out. In her own way, of course, but it had gone anyway. She definitely did not know what he had done, but according to her calculations his beauty had increased by 110% over the summer. He was taller, his hair brighter and longer. Some muscles sprouted up his arms and God knows where else. His features were more masculine, but enough for a 17-year-old. If he was handsome before, now he was flawless. Unlike him, it was a secret to all of his "crush" on him. She was not silly, she knew that if anyone discovered her reputation she would go under. It was not very clever of him to fall in love with a pure blood and a descendant of death eaters.
I mean, every girl has had her platonic passion, so she was not so guilty. It was obvious that he would never exchange concrete words with her. This was to demand an absurd flexibility from the gigantic preconceptions that enveloped them.
That late afternoon Hermione was having some difficulty with her potion quiz. He had spent more than half the day searching for answers, but the number 78 could not be solved at all. Tired, she was about to give up when a shadow appeared in front of her. She looked up and saw Malfoy staring at her.
-"Asphalus roots." whispered the boy.
"As…?" she asked confused, also keeping the tone low in her voice.
"The answer. Number 78. Asphalus roots."
They stared at each other for a few moments when the boy gave a weary sigh and stepped away from her, heading out of the library.
"But what was that?" It was all that was in the girl's mind.