A/N: This is rather short, but wonderfully sweet- enjoy!
Draco slipped into Madam Puddifoot's, tired and cold, although his outer demeanour never slipped once. He had been accosted by girls left right and centre; today was Valentines Day, and all he wanted to do was escape, hide, and, preferably; never see a girl again.
Heaving an exhausted sigh as he flopped into a nondescript chair, he took a moment to survey the scene he found himself in. Couples were everywhere, sitting on sofas, love chairs, and big squashy bean bags. He spied Potter with a love-truck Weaslette, and the Weasel himself with a dreamy-eyed Lovegood. The Malfoy prodigy sniffed in disgust at the soppiness of it all, then wrinkled his nose slightly. Where was their third wheel? The mudblood? Not, that he hastily reminded himself, that he cared. Of course not.
Lately, he had been battling with opposing feelings for the girl- he had to use every ounce of superior training he had ever had to keep himself sane: liking the Gryffindor was out of the question, as far as he was concerned. Forcing himself to forget about the muggle-borns absence, (and also forcing himself to forget about the pang of jealousy at the thought that she could be out with someone else,) Draco decided to order himself a cup of tea.
Whilst waiting for his chai to arrive, the Slytherin felt a cold breeze wash over him as the door behind his chair opened. Turning to look at the arrival with narrowed, icy glare fully in place (lest it be one of those accursed fan girls,) the blonde's eyes widened minutely as he came across a very different picture than the one he was imagining.
Long, curly brown hair blowing against the wind, sending the gentlest waft of perfume into the near-by vicinity. Porcelain skin, like a china dolls, smooth, milky, and pale; a small, slim figure struggling against the harsh February wind.
Draco Malfoy was spellbound.
He watched surreptitiously as this beautiful girl quietly took a seat near his own, tucked away in a corner behind the door. Watching beneath his lashes as the girl shook the snow from her hair, Draco's breath caught.
Oh fuck no.
It was Granger.
As soon as she had entered the shop, she'd noticed Malfoy's gaze on her. He didn't look hostile; infact, he looked a little confused, as though he couldn't believe his eyes. This riled Hermione up; she had as much right as anyone to be here as anyone else, so why was he looking at her like that? "Really", Hermione thought crossly. It was rather rude to be staring that much.
As the Gryffindor settled herself in the overly large chair, Hermione's curiosity got the better of her, and she haughtily drew herself up in her seat and spoke.
"Can I help you, Malfoy?" she asked frostily. "You seem to be staring. An awful lot."
Said boys posture didn't change, but the handsome, usually expressionless face looked surprised for a moment, before breaking into that annoyingly endearing smirk. Oh, trust Granger to look so beautiful, and yet so…cold. He found it…refreshing.
Hermione found herself momentarily unsettled as the Slytherin didn't even look slightly perturbed at being caught staring, and the brunettes lips unconsciously formed into a pout when she realised that Malfoy wasn't in the least ashamed of his being caught.
Brown eyes widened fractionally as the tall wizard stood elegantly, brushing his robes, slim fingers picking up his teacup.
"Mind if I join you for tea, Granger?" Draco asked smoothly, flashing a tiny, genuine smile at the silent and still girl.
Quite unsure what to make of this situation, Hermione merely nodded her silent permission.
As Malfoy sat on the sofa next to her, Hermione couldn't help but ask "Are you…feeling alright Malfoy?"
Draco tilted his head back and laughed richly, the sound resonating in his throat. With twinkling silver eyes, he eyed the confused, flustered, perfect girl over the rim of his teacup, and smirked to himself.
"Ever seen China dolls, Granger?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes, but answered anyway.
"What about them?"
Draco looked intensely at Hermione over the table between them.
"They are beautiful. But if you smash them, the shards cut you like knives."
Hermione processed this new, odd Malfoy, and found she couldn't understand him at all. So, like all intelligent people, she asked what the hell he was blathering on about.
"Malfoy, what the hell are you blathering on about?"
Draco smirked again, placed his empty tea cup down and stood, stretching, his sole attention on Hermione's rigid form.
"I find, Granger that you are very much like a China doll."
His glowing, sparkling eyes never left hers, and he slowly reached out a hand, almost tentatively at the (albeit slightly confused,) typical Granger-expressioned girl in front of him. Hermione glared at the offending hand, but was mollified by the contemplative; almost peaceful expression on the taller's face. Well, that and he looked gorgeous standing like that. "Come for a walk with me, Hermione?"
She extended her hand; he pulled her up and together they left the small tea shop.
Every Valentine's after that, consisted of Malfoy and Granger sitting together at Madam Puddifoots, drinking tea and discussing china dolls.
A/N: well, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you could please drop a review, I would appreciate it very much, as they are very precious to me! Thank you!