I do not own Harry Potter
It was maddening; the way that filthy, insufferable mudblood could get into his head.
She wouldn't even have to speak - just the sight of her hand shooting up every class was enough to push him to the brink of insanity. The way her frizzy, mouse-colored curls would bounce as she lifted from her seat, her arm stretching towards the ceilings and her face distorted into a look of pain; as if the privilege of answering every trivial question the professors spat was her sole purpose in life. It was disgusting.
She couldn't resist broadcasting the fact that she was a know-it-all in front of the entire classroom, and the self-satisfied smirk that would sprout across her face after giving the answer was permanently burned into his brain.
How could she even talk with teeth that large?
The fact that she even understood the basics of magic boggled his mind. She had grown up in the muggle world, hadn't she? And yet she was top of the class? It was absurd!
It was obviously Dumbledore's doing - a mudblood being one of the "brightest young witches" was bound to be news-worthy. The old oaf would do anything for publicity - he basically adopted Potter, 'the boy who lived'. Always parading the golden trio around as if they had any significance in the real world.
Who in their right mind would give a flying fuck about a couple of half-witted Gryffindors?
"Mr. Malfoy."
Draco jolted in his seat, tearing his grey eyes from his classmate and directing his attention towards the front of the class. Professor McGonagall was standing before him, her brows raised incredulously.
"Judging by your dazed expression, I trust that you haven't been paying attention." Tilting her head to the side, her hat cast a shadow across her eyes, giving the older woman a somewhat sinister look. Despite the fact that she was the Head of Gryffindor, Draco found her to be an adequate teacher, and didn't want to get on her bad side.
Merely scowling in response, he picked up his quill from the desk and continued to take notes. Or, at least, pretend to.
He could still see the Gryffindor bouncing in her chair from the corner of his eye, causing him to press harder into the parchment before him. The ink began to pool, and his usually neat handwriting soon became illegible. But he paid it no mind as he listened to the shrill ring of her voice - of course she knew the answer. She knew everything.
"Correct, Ms. Granger." Professor McGonagall didn't even attempt to hide the pride in her voice as she continued with the lesson. Though, that was to be expected. Of all the classes he shared with the mudblood, the only teacher who didn't treat her like royalty was Professor Snape.
But that really wasn't saying much - Snape wasn't known for giving any non-Slytherins special treatment.
Draco had no idea why Hermione Granger bothered him so much; sure, she was muggle-born - an automatic reason to dislike her. And being in Gryffindor didn't help her case, either. Plus, she was incredibly annoying - more so than any Weasley could ever be. But it still didn't justify all the hate he felt for her. There must have been something more; something he was forgetting.
"Are you staring at Granger again?"
Feeling his face grow hot, Draco whipped his head towards the wizard beside him, who was giving him a cheeky smile. Blaise Zabini was definitely a character - he had an air of arrogance about him, and along with his dry sense of humor and utter disdain for basically everyone, he and Draco got along fairly well. And though Draco didn't consider Blaise a friend, necessarily, he was somebody he enjoyed talking to.
At least, he used to enjoy it.
"What the hell are you going on about?" Draco snapped, his platinum blond hair falling into his face. Pushing it back, he directed his fellow Slytherin with a glare.
Blaise's smile only widened, his dark eyes darting between Draco's look of fury and the bouncing Gryffindor across the room. Honestly, was she incapable of sitting still?
"So I take that as a yes?" he grinned, his voice too smug for his own good.
A mixture of a scoff and a gag sounded in Draco's throat as he regarded his housemate incredulously. Why would he ever assume such a thing? Sure, the blond had been observing Granger, but only because she was so bloody annoying. He couldn't help but be distracted by the way she shook the classroom. Yet, Blaise's teasing tone and quirked eyebrow suggested that Draco had been looking at her for an entirely different reason. One that made him thankful for skipping lunch that day - otherwise his notes would have become completely illegible.
"Are you mad?" he nearly shrieked, his face turning bright red. There was no way he'd ever look at Hermione-Mudblood-Granger like that. With her frizzy hair and horse-teeth? He had standards.
But Blaise didn't seem to understand this, and continued giving him a knowing smirk.
"I'm not the one who's hung up on a muggle-born," he drawled, shrugging his shoulders as he turned back towards his work.
Draco's scowl only intensified, and he paid no mind to the curious stares from a few of the students around them. It was blatantly obvious that his 'friend' was in serious need of a visit to St. Mungo's; suggesting that he, Draco Malfoy, would ever be pining after a mudblood?
"Don't be absurd, Zabini," the blond sneered, his lips curling viciously. "Granger is a complete troll!"
But the Slytherin merely shook his head in amusement, sending the still-bouncing Gryffindor a sideways glance. "She's not half bad for a muggle-born," he mused casually, giving the brunette an appreciative once-over. "I mean, I'd never stoop so low, but to each their own, I suppose."
Draco could literally feel his blood boil as he clenched his fists, reminding himself not to smack his housemate, despite how he was practically begging for it. But he couldn't risk another detention so early in the year - he already received a rather embarrassing howler from his mother, though thankfully he and Crabbe were the only witnesses.
"Granger is a troll," he repeated, forcing himself not to sneak a quick peek at her. She hadn't heard what had been said, had she? He couldn't stand the thought of her thinking he didn't see her as complete filth.
"Oh, come on," Blaise laughed, giving the blond a skeptical look. "Just admit you fancy her - I won't hold it against you."
Again, Draco had to remind himself to breathe slowly as his fingernails dug into the skin of his palms. It wasn't his fault he was surrounded by morons.
"I think you're the one who fancies her, Zabini," he bit back, before glancing around quickly and letting out a sigh of relief. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to their conversation any longer.
His friend let out an amused snort at the accusation, shaking his head fondly. "Oh, sure - I'm just dying to make little half-blood babies with her. Hey, maybe they'd even be sorted into Gryffindor," he mused dryly, a taunting smirk creeping onto his face.
Feeling a devious smile of his own, Draco raised both brows skeptically. "Oh, really?" he mused, turning his head towards the topic of their discussion. He waited until he was sure McGonagall was preoccupied, before loudly whispering across the room.
"Hey, Granger!"
She stiffened slightly, though she continued to diligently work on her assignment, scribbling down her notes determinedly. Her nosy friend, on the other hand, poked his head out from behind her, narrowing his green eyes in a warning.
Ignoring Potter's feeble attempt at intimidating him, as well as the curious look Blaise was sending his way, Draco tried getting Hermione's attention once more.
"Granger!"
He was mildly impressed by her self-control - any other girl would have been racing across the room if he called them.
Crumpling up his useless notes, he tossed the wad of paper across the room, hitting Hermione's shoulder.
"Granger!"
"What?" she hissed, sending him a glare far worse than Potter's - her face pulled into a disgruntled scowl and her bushy eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.
Again, Draco absently wondered how Blaise could ever suggest that he was attracted to the girl - she resembled a house-elf.
Regardless, he shot her a dazzling smile. "Come here," he whispered, beckoning her over with the wave of his hand, but she merely snorted incredulously.
"No."
Rolling his eyes in amusement, he waved her over once more. "Come on! We want to ask you something!"
She continued regarding him with disdain, as Potter protectively placed his hand on her shoulder. Weasley, on the other hand, seemed to be too preoccupied with the bimbo beside him to notice what was transpiring. Draco couldn't figure out why the somewhat decent-looking Lavender Brown was infatuated with the redheaded blood-traitor, though he supposed there had to be some reason for her being in Gryffindor. Poor taste, apparently.
"Well, I don't want to talk to you."
He had almost forgotten about Hermione, and was somewhat confused by her response, before raising his brows skeptically.
"Don't lie to yourself, Granger," he taunted, making sure to keep his voice low. "You know you're curious."
"Sod off, Malfoy."
Draco took the liberty of ignoring the nuisance behind his chosen victim, and kept his gaze firmly locked with hers. Again, he found himself somewhat admiring her ability to resist his charms.
"Grangeeeer," he whined, giving her a pleading, innocent smile.
He could feel Blaise's confused stare burning holes in the back of his head, though he couldn't tear his eyes from the bossy Gryffindor. Smirking slightly, he watched the hesitance flash across her face, before she let out a defeated sigh. With a quick glance towards their professor, she began to duck across the room, only to have her fellow housemate take hold of her wrist.
Draco watched as Potter frantically whispered something to Hermione, only he couldn't hear it. But the brunette only shook her head, and her friend released her reluctantly.
Her robes swayed slightly as she hurriedly crossed the room, before standing in front of their table, a scowl etched across her face.
"What?" she clipped, obviously annoyed.
Sending his fellow Slytherin a wicked grin, Draco motioned for Hermione to come a bit closer.
She was hesitant at first, before rolling her eyes in exasperation and leaning towards them.
"What, Malfoy?"
"Patience, Granger," he sneered, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed at his teasing tone, "Zabini here is just trying to work up the courage to ask you something."
His friend let out a surprised laugh, looking between the blond and the Gryffindor in mild amusement. "I am?"
"Oh, don't be shy," Draco drawled, attempting to suppress his grin. "Go on, Zabini - ask her!"
"Ask me what?" Hermione inquired, arching her brows suspiciously.
Blaise merely shrugged his shoulders, sending her a charming half-smile. "I'm not quite sure."
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Draco let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, fiiine - I'll ask her for you."
Sitting up straighter, he looked the brunette directly in the eyes, feeling his stomach tumble gleefully in anticipation for her reaction.
"Zabini was wondering if you'd like to accompany him to Hogsmeade this weekend."
Hermione's brown eyes widened considerably, obviously not expecting that. She quickly looked towards Blaise, who narrowed his eyes in amusement at the blond.
"Really?" he deadpanned, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Draco merely grinned, unsure of what would be more hilarious - Blaise's denial of ever asking that, or Hermione's rejection.
"Hey - I told you I'd ask her for you."
Surprisingly, Blaise let out a dry chuckle, before turning his attention towards the witch before them.
"What do you say, Granger?" he smirked.
Hermione's expression was that of pure shock, her eyes still wide and her mouth forming a small 'O' shape. Her cheeks were also flushed ever so slightly, though Draco supposed it was from uncertainty with the situation. After all, it wasn't as if she had many guys asking her out, being a troll and whatnot.
"You can't be serious," she replied, giving the darker boy a skeptical look.
Blaise continued playing along, putting on a very convincing show as he feigned nervousness.
"I-I mean, yeah," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was just hoping you'd, I don't know... give me a chance?"
Her surprise only increased, and Draco couldn't help but admire his friend's acting skills. The guy seemed almost genuine.
"I..." Hermione began, looking between the two of them in confusion. She was probably hoping to see a break in character, though both the Slytherin boys remained stoic.
"Come on, Granger," Draco pleaded, jutting out his lower lip. "Give Blaisey-Boy a chance!"
She narrowed her eyes slightly at his taunt, before directing her gaze back towards Blaise. Again, the Slytherin was putting on a believable act.
"Knock it off, Malfoy," he sighed, drumming his fingers against the table idly. "She's obviously not interested in me..."
Draco bit back a smile as Hermione bit her lip indecisively, before glancing over her shoulder.
It seemed Weasley had finally tore his mouth off of Lavender's, and both he and Potter were watching the scene suspiciously, though Draco was fairly certain they couldn't hear what was being said.
Hermione's eyes lingered on the redhead for a few seconds, before his bimbo attempted to regain his attention by nuzzling in the crook of his neck. With a furious scowl, the brunette quickly turned back towards the two Slytherins.
"You know what - I'd love to."
Both their jaws dropped in shock, though Blaise somehow recovered after a few seconds.
"Really?" he questioned, a smug smirk flitting across his lips.
"Really," Hermione confirmed, nodding her head confidently. "It sounds... lovely."
"All... Alright... Meet me at the Three Broomsticks, then?"
"What time?"
"Uh... Two o'clock sound good?"
"Sounds perfect."
"Alright." There was no hiding Blaise's self-satisfied smirk, though Hermione didn't seem to mind it. Instead, she sent him a subdued smile, before heading back towards her own table, her brown curls flipping over her shoulders.
Draco was still in a state of shock. Hermione-Mudblood-Granger had actually agreed to going on a date with a Slytherin - and not just any Slytherin, but Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin known for bashing mudbloods. And she had looked... happy about it.
The knot in his stomach confirmed that this was not the outcome he had been hoping for. He was expecting insults and raised voices - not flirty eyelash batting and nervous chuckles. What the hell had just happened?
"Huh, looks like I got a date with Granger," Blaise mused, absently drumming his fingers against the table.
"Uh..." Draco couldn't find words. That had just been so... so... he couldn't even describe it! Hermione Granger was going on a date with one of his fellow Slytherins. She was willingly going on a date with a Slytherin. She was... going on a date.
Hermione Granger was going on a date.
Why the hell did that bother him?
My try at a believable Dramione, I guess :)
So this is going to be during their 6th year, though I'm not sure if I'll keep the whole Draco's a death eater plot. Oh, I'm also not sure if his father is in Azkaban either. Ima have to think on that haha
And on a random note, my spell check had changed "Zabini" to "Zambini" and I just realized and edited that. Is "Zambini" a thing, or..? Haha
Leave a review? Constructive criticism is welcomed :)