Mysterious. I stopped dead in my tracks. After all the time I had spent racking my brain, the only word I could come up with to describe him was mysterious. But it was true. The statement wasn't incorrect. Draco Malfoy was definitely mysterious.
The first day of our seventh year had proven that. The way he had completely avoided everyone on the train, stood there smoking muggle cigarettes without getting caught, the smoke blowing out of the open window. The way he had worn not a trace of color any day out of the year so far, without being called out on it by a teacher for not having a Slytherin tie around his neck. The way he read during class, and still managed to be top of the class.
He would still sneak around corners, catching me by surprise, whispering, "Mudblood…." in my ear. And walking away, as if he had no further critiques.
Everything changed when winter came. He grabbed me by the shoulders on sight, once he had turned the corner, eyes glued on mine. I expected him to hex me, but I didn't see him going for his wand. The Gryffindor side of me told me to keep eye contact, while the sensible part told me to struggle against his strong grip. But I kept eye contact, watched as his eyes travelled down from my eyes, towards my lips. He leaned down slightly, his lips meeting mine.
A soft, gentle kiss that lasted no more than three seconds. That was all it took for me to see him as much more than mysterious. Mysteriously Perfect. "Hermione…" he whispered. I didn't have time to be shocked by him using my first name, because his lips, once again had captured mine.
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