Disclaimer (because I always forget it): If I owned the HP Universe, Draco and Hermione would already be married happily with two children. See, I don't own it.
Hopscotch: bang (Word), purple (Word), "I like that flavour." (Dialogue), two (word)
Level-Up Competition: Tutorial/Stage 2/Task 1 – Write about your OTP meeting as children. (Developer trait used)
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Care of Magical Creatures Assignment #3 – Write about a first impression that is not the last impression.
February Event: (colour) Lavender + (colour) Coral
The If You Dare Challenge: 248 (grown-up)
Gringotts:
Colour Prompts: black, lavender, coral, white
Words Instead of Said: chatted, acknowledged
Verbs: dress up, fidget, maintain, decide, got, ruin, disappear, disappoint, could, contemplate, acknowledge, supposed, believe
Adjectives: done, black, white, nice, neat, best, worst, wrong, worthy, weird, angry, glad, pretty, cruel, last, sensible, yummy
Nouns: swing, grownup, children, ice cream, thought, colour, flavour, park
"Can I sit here?" asked 7-year-old Hermione Granger. She was pointing at one of the two empty swings beside one that was already occupied by a boy, who was looking to be about her age. The boy on the other swing was wearing a jet black waistcoat over a white button-up shirt, and his blond hair was neatly done, so neatly that even the wind couldn't mess it up.
Hermione thought he must have been dressed up for a special event. After all, people didn't usually look this nice and neat.
"I dunno," the boy shrugged. "My Mother told me not to associate with muggles, but she's not there, so I guess you can."
The girl eyed him for a bit with furrowed eyebrows, like she couldn't quite comprehend what he had meant, but after a while, she just rolled her eyes and took a seat on the swing.
"Did you say muggles?" she inquired after a few moments of silence. She hadn't heard the term before.
"Yeah, muggles," they boy answered. "You know, people who can't do magic, not like we, wizards and witches do."
Hermione gazed at the boy with rising suspicion. She didn't believe in magic and such. It was just one of the tricks of grownups, to make children believe everything they saw. Magic wasn't real, but, she supposed, it seemed like not everyone knew about that. And so, she decided to enlighten the boy as well, though, she wouldn't outright say her thoughts on the matter. She wasn't that cruel.
"And can you do magic?" she asked, trying to maintain an interested tone.
"Occasionally," the blond nodded. "Though I can't control it yet. Father said I'll learn how to do that in Hogwarts, when I'll be 11. He also said that I'll better be in Slytherin."
"Hogwarts?" the girl furrowed her eyebrows again. "Is that some kind of school?"
"Yeah, it's the coolest magical school in Britain! Haven't your parents told you about it?" the boy chatted.
"No…" Hermione replied. "And, uh, what is Slytherin?"
"It's one of the Houses in Hogwarts! And my Father told me it was also the best house, and that only the worthy people get in there," the boy explained. "The other houses are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. My Mother said that there might be some nice blokes in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, though she also said that Hufflepuffs weren't too good in anything, but she thinks that Gryffindor is the worst house possible. I guess I wouldn't want to be a Gryffindor."
Hermione wasn't quite sure what to make of the things the boy said. It all seemed sensible, but then how come she'd never heard of it? Even for the grownups, making up a whole magical world and such wouldn't be worth their time.
"So, can you do magic?" the boy turned to face her with raised eyebrows. Hermione casted her eyes down and fidgeted with one of the ribbons on her coral-coloured dress before answering.
"I… I don't know," Hermione concluded. "I mean; sometimes weird things do happen to me. For example, once I wanted to get ice cream while shopping with Mommy and she said I couldn't because it would ruin my teeth, and I got really angry and suddenly, the mulberry ice cream got spilled all over the place. Everything was purple and all. It was really funny," she told him, then contemplated for a moment before continuing. "Mulberry ice cream looks a lot like lavenders, they have their colour. And it's also yummy. I like that flavour."
"That sounds a lot like magic for me," the boy nodded. "Well, I guess we'll meet again at Hogwarts, that's for sure."
Suddenly, what sounded like a bang came from behind the two children, and a woman – who's hair colour resembled the boy's rather suspiciously – approached the swing swiftly.
"Oops, I have to go now," the boy abruptly stood up and hurried away, but not before glancing back at Hermione one more time. "By the way, the name's Draco. Draco Malfoy."
Minutes after the boy disappeared with his mother, Hermione was still sitting in the swing. She had to admit, this meeting was rather surreal – even for her –, though she was the glad the boy didn't reject her completely. She was glad she could talk to somebody, since her classmates never seemed to like her that much.
She didn't know if magic was real or not, but, she thought, maybe it wouldn't be that bad if it was. Maybe then, she could meet the boy again.
12 years later
"That git deserves to be sent into Azkaban," Hermione huffed to Harry, while the two of them were walking towards the courtroom in the Department of Mysteries. "Look, I understand that he saved us when we got captured once, but that doesn't make up for everything else he's done."
"You know that even if I wanted, I couldn't get him a life-long sentence. He never killed anybody," Harry answered with a sigh. "A few years is the maximum."
"I know," the girl acknowledged. "I just want to see him admit he was wrong."
"Me too," Harry agreed. "Say, why are you so caught up with his case in particular? I mean; okay, he was our classmate, but he's not a major offender."
Just then, a few memories flashed in Hermione's mind. A girl in a pretty coral dress approaching the swings in the park, then her sitting next to the blond-haired boy, and finally, him waving goodbye to her in a hurry.
"Well," she said finally. "I think it's because he disappointed me a lot of times," she concluded, then, when she was sure no one would hear her last words, she added. "I guess first impressions aren't worth nothing."