It Began With a Book by crystalpen
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. :O
Author's Note: Hi! This is my first fanfiction. :x Yeah, I've started some and never continued them, but hopefully this time will be different. ::laughs:: Well, okay, hope you like it. :) Enjoy! Reviews greatly appreciated!
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She walked briskly through the crisp, cool September air. Her head was buried within a book as she furiously scribbled things inside it. Typical Hermione.
Hermione glanced up quickly, scanning the street around her. Her gaze lingered on a café across the street. Looks nice, she thought, I'll have to visit it someday. She turned her head back toward her book, but saw a flash of black before she crashed into someone in her way.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione exclaimed before quickly kneeling down to pick up her dropped book.
A pale hand reached down and got to it first. "No, no, it's my fault, Miss."
Hermione stood up, smiling. Her smile faltered when she peered into a pair of familiar grey eyes.
"Fancy meeting you here, Granger," the voice suddenly turned cold.
"Good morning to you, too, Malfoy," Hermione muttered sarcastically.
An awkward silence passed between the two.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Excuse me? I'm not the one who decided to crash into someone who was taking a perfectly normal morning walk, while—may I add—wearing new robes, too, now was I? Who knows what kind of Mudblood filth you've gotten on them?"
Hermione muttered something incoherent and glared at Draco. Another awkward silence.
"May I have my book back, Malfoy?"
Draco ignored her and looked up and down the street. "So where's Weasel and Pothead?"
"Why do you care?"
"Oh, you know, just wanted to see if your love life's actually gotten anywhere since, oh, I don't know, first year."
"Shut the hell up, Malfoy," Hermione scowled, looking away.
Draco's lips curled into a smirk, "Language, language. Goodness."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "So it's true, then? Finally gotten shagged?" he remarked casually.
Hermione turned a furious shade of red and continued glaring at Draco. Oh, if looks could kill...
"Which one of them was it?"
Hermione couldn't take it anymore. "For your information, Malfoy, I have never. Shagged. Anyone. IN. MY. ENTIRE. LIFE."
People around them began to stare. Whoops. Had she just said that out loud? And to…to Malfoy of all people!
Draco seemed satisfied. "I pity you, Granger," he smirked as he turned around and began to walk down the street.
Hermione caught up with him. "What…What do you mean 'pity you'? I'm perfectly fine with my life thus far, thank you," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh, are you?" Draco replied airily.
"Yes, very much."
They continued walking for a while before Draco suddenly turned around, causing Hermione to bump into him and end up inches from his face. She had to bend her neck up to face up. Dammit, why was he so tall?
"Tell me, Granger, when was the last time you actually had real fun?" Draco sneered.
Hermione shifted her gaze to the side and focused on a crack in the sidewalk. "Well…R-Ron took me to a Quidditch game two weeks ago—"
Draco laughed in her face. Hermione noticed his breath smelled richly of coffee mixed with a somewhat sweet, cultured fragrance. Rich bastard.
"That's your idea of fun, is it, Granger? Spending a day with the Weasel? If I recall, you don't even like Quidditch, correct?" He didn't give her time to respond. "Why don't you, oh, I don't know, invite the poor git to an Arithmancy Convention this weekend? You know, just for the fun of it! I bet you'll both get a kick out of that."
"Well, if you must know," Hermione huffed, blurting out the first thing she could think of, while focusing her gaze on a dark spot on the sidewalk, "Ron and I broke up just recently."
"Ah, finally realized what an idiot he is, have you?"
"Will you, please, stop insulting my friends at every bloody chance you get, Malfoy?!" Hermione angrily took a step back.
"Friend, Granger? I thought you broke up with the bastard," Draco scowled, closing the gap between them again. This time, they stood even closer.
"Well, it's been—" She paused. What exactly had her relationship with Ron been? He hadn't ever had the attention span to hold a meaningful conversation with her for over a minute, and somehow, their conversations always got back to the topic of Quidditch. That's all that ever really mattered to him, Hermione thought bitterly. Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch. That and ridiculously trying not to be too outshined by Harry.
"It's been a complicated, on and off relationship." God, why was she telling him, Draco Malfoy of all people, this? Then again, it's not like she didn't think Ron was an idiot, especially because of their recent break-up. But I still can't let Malfoy go around insulting him like that! "Ron's always been special t—"
"Special, is it?" Draco chuckled to himself. "Finally gotten himself into the mental ward at St. Mungo's, has he? And by complicated, you mean he hardly cares whether you're around or not, am I right?" He sneered.
"Will you SHUT THE HELL UP, Malfoy?!" Hermione screamed.
She glared at him bitterly one last time before she turned and ran. Draco scoffed after she left. Probably off to hide behind her books. His expression changed, and he smiled after he realized what he was still holding.
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Hermione arrived at the bookstore a bit late.
"Good morning, Hermione! What took you so long?" cried a voice from the back.
"Sorry!" Hermione apologized as she took her coat off. "I ran into an old classmate on my way here."
An elderly man appeared behind a shelf marked "Potions".
"No problem, Hermione," he smiled. "I was just worried about you; you always come on time, you know."
Hermione laughed politely, "Oh, don't worry about me, Mr. Thoreau, I can take care of myself just fine."
"Well, you never know…" Mr. Thoreau replied, placing a book gently onto the Potions shelf. "Anyway, Miss Granger, how was that novel I recommended yesterday?"
"Oh, it was fantastic!" Hermione grinned. "I was just reading it this morning before I left for work, and instead, I picked up my—"
Hermione paused suddenly. Mr. Thoreau looked at her curiously.
"That bloody git!" Hermione cried, slamming her fist into a nearby bookshelf. Malfoy stole my diary!