A/N: Hi everyone, I'm new here and this is my first D/Hr fic...in fact, it's
my first shot at fanfiction. Please read and review! Thanks!
"I told you you couldn't beat me," Draco said smugly, sliding his perfect Potions test across the table where Hermione sat.
Hermione regarded the paper coolly. "Not bad for a ferret," she said. "But really, Malfoy, I expected more from Snape's favorite pupil." She whipped a sheet of paper out of her folder and threw it toward Draco. "Read it and weep"
Draco's eyes widened. "102 percent?! But...but that's impossible!" he sputtered. "Since when did Snape's give extra credit? And...and to you?!"
"It's called staying on top, Malfoy, which is something you obviously aren't capable of," she said.
"You mudbloods don't know what you're talking about," Draco sneered, crumpling his test paper. "The fates were against me. I can beat you at anything else. I can fly, I can play Quidditch, I can –"
"Be an arrogant prat who can't admit when he's been beat?" said Hermione. "Really now, Malfoy, isn't it time you stepped down from your self-constructed little throne of idiocy?"
"I say we have a rematch," Draco said abruptly. "But in a different area this time."
"A rematch?" said Hermione exasperatedly. "Don't you mean a re-re-re- re-rematch? I've beaten you in Transfiguration, Arithmancy and in Potions. My flobberworm stayed alive longer than yours, my Bobotuber matured faster than yours, and I daresay that my charms proved more enchanting than yours. Now just leave me alone and admit that I, a non-pureblood wizard, have displayed my competence in the wizarding world." She crossed her arms and grinned mischievously.
"Stop smiling like that," Draco said, peeved. "You look like you're off your rocker."
Teeth and eyes glittering, Hermione continued to grin. "I'm sorry, but that defeated look on your face does wonders for your features."
Draco reddened slightly, something Hermione had never seen him do before. "I can make you stop," he said quietly. "In fact, I can make you want to stop. We'll have a contest."
"A contest?" Hermione asked with mock curiosity. "Oh let me guess – a sadness contest. Whoever looks the most morose wins."
Draco smirked. "Wrong guess, Granger. It's a staring contest, a popular game among children. I'll stare silently into your eyes, and you'll stare silently into mine. The first one to smile wins."
"Why, Malfoy," Hermione said, sounding amused. "I had no idea the inner child in you still existed."
"Shut up and stop smiling Granger," Draco sneered. "This will be the match to end all matches. The loser will admit his or her ultimate defeat, and the winner will bask in that person's shame. Shall we begin?"
"As soon as you wipe that smirk off your face," Hermione replied, pushing her books aside and locking her chocolate-colored eyes with his nebulous silver ones.
Time seemed to stand still. As Hermione gazed into Draco's eyes, she couldn't help but notice their unusual hue and the rarity of their slate- gray coolness. They didn't glitter like Harry's or dance like Ron's. She detected no swirl in his pupils, nor any emotion in his expression. An eternity passed, and still his eyes remained stoic, distant, and unmoving, like twin moons overlooking a starless winter night.
Draco too felt the time inch by, and he willed himself to concentrate. Neither he nor Hermione made a peep, although it wasn't hard for him to contain his emotion. He was, after all, known for his ability to maintain a staid, controlled expression whether in times of happiness or stress. Not that this moment was one or the other.
Draco took the time to scrutinize Hermione's features. She remained still and immobile, yet somehow full of expression, like a Greek statue or one of Michaelangelo's sculptures. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he thought he detected determination behind her ebony eyes and pursed red lips.
Outside, a cloud shifted and allowed a ray of sunlight to pass through the edge of the curtain. Without taking his eyes off Hermione's, Draco watched as it struck her porcelain cheeks, making a pale streak across her freckled nose.
His eyes still fixated on her, he leaned in slightly closer. The resolve in Hermione's expression faded into confusion. Before she could open her mouth to speak, and before she could even turn away, his mouth landed on hers.
With a slight "oomph", Hermione began to turn away until she realized that her body didn't want to. In fact, even her mind didn't want to. Her eyelashes fluttering shut, and her neck prickling from the blush creeping up her face, she moved in closer, her elbow clumsily knocking aside a pile of textbooks.
When Draco finally ended the kiss, Hermione kept her eyes closed, taking in the quiet intensity of its movement. When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself once again looking into Draco Malfoy's steely orbs – except that this time, she was smiling, if not a little shyly.
Draco's features, which, until that moment, had remained impassive, suddenly transformed into a wide grin. Scooping up his scroll and textbooks, he crisply said, "I win," before exiting the library.
"I told you you couldn't beat me," Draco said smugly, sliding his perfect Potions test across the table where Hermione sat.
Hermione regarded the paper coolly. "Not bad for a ferret," she said. "But really, Malfoy, I expected more from Snape's favorite pupil." She whipped a sheet of paper out of her folder and threw it toward Draco. "Read it and weep"
Draco's eyes widened. "102 percent?! But...but that's impossible!" he sputtered. "Since when did Snape's give extra credit? And...and to you?!"
"It's called staying on top, Malfoy, which is something you obviously aren't capable of," she said.
"You mudbloods don't know what you're talking about," Draco sneered, crumpling his test paper. "The fates were against me. I can beat you at anything else. I can fly, I can play Quidditch, I can –"
"Be an arrogant prat who can't admit when he's been beat?" said Hermione. "Really now, Malfoy, isn't it time you stepped down from your self-constructed little throne of idiocy?"
"I say we have a rematch," Draco said abruptly. "But in a different area this time."
"A rematch?" said Hermione exasperatedly. "Don't you mean a re-re-re- re-rematch? I've beaten you in Transfiguration, Arithmancy and in Potions. My flobberworm stayed alive longer than yours, my Bobotuber matured faster than yours, and I daresay that my charms proved more enchanting than yours. Now just leave me alone and admit that I, a non-pureblood wizard, have displayed my competence in the wizarding world." She crossed her arms and grinned mischievously.
"Stop smiling like that," Draco said, peeved. "You look like you're off your rocker."
Teeth and eyes glittering, Hermione continued to grin. "I'm sorry, but that defeated look on your face does wonders for your features."
Draco reddened slightly, something Hermione had never seen him do before. "I can make you stop," he said quietly. "In fact, I can make you want to stop. We'll have a contest."
"A contest?" Hermione asked with mock curiosity. "Oh let me guess – a sadness contest. Whoever looks the most morose wins."
Draco smirked. "Wrong guess, Granger. It's a staring contest, a popular game among children. I'll stare silently into your eyes, and you'll stare silently into mine. The first one to smile wins."
"Why, Malfoy," Hermione said, sounding amused. "I had no idea the inner child in you still existed."
"Shut up and stop smiling Granger," Draco sneered. "This will be the match to end all matches. The loser will admit his or her ultimate defeat, and the winner will bask in that person's shame. Shall we begin?"
"As soon as you wipe that smirk off your face," Hermione replied, pushing her books aside and locking her chocolate-colored eyes with his nebulous silver ones.
Time seemed to stand still. As Hermione gazed into Draco's eyes, she couldn't help but notice their unusual hue and the rarity of their slate- gray coolness. They didn't glitter like Harry's or dance like Ron's. She detected no swirl in his pupils, nor any emotion in his expression. An eternity passed, and still his eyes remained stoic, distant, and unmoving, like twin moons overlooking a starless winter night.
Draco too felt the time inch by, and he willed himself to concentrate. Neither he nor Hermione made a peep, although it wasn't hard for him to contain his emotion. He was, after all, known for his ability to maintain a staid, controlled expression whether in times of happiness or stress. Not that this moment was one or the other.
Draco took the time to scrutinize Hermione's features. She remained still and immobile, yet somehow full of expression, like a Greek statue or one of Michaelangelo's sculptures. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he thought he detected determination behind her ebony eyes and pursed red lips.
Outside, a cloud shifted and allowed a ray of sunlight to pass through the edge of the curtain. Without taking his eyes off Hermione's, Draco watched as it struck her porcelain cheeks, making a pale streak across her freckled nose.
His eyes still fixated on her, he leaned in slightly closer. The resolve in Hermione's expression faded into confusion. Before she could open her mouth to speak, and before she could even turn away, his mouth landed on hers.
With a slight "oomph", Hermione began to turn away until she realized that her body didn't want to. In fact, even her mind didn't want to. Her eyelashes fluttering shut, and her neck prickling from the blush creeping up her face, she moved in closer, her elbow clumsily knocking aside a pile of textbooks.
When Draco finally ended the kiss, Hermione kept her eyes closed, taking in the quiet intensity of its movement. When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself once again looking into Draco Malfoy's steely orbs – except that this time, she was smiling, if not a little shyly.
Draco's features, which, until that moment, had remained impassive, suddenly transformed into a wide grin. Scooping up his scroll and textbooks, he crisply said, "I win," before exiting the library.