Chapter 1- The one with the arguing
"Filthy little mudblood, you're all the same!"
"You're nothing but a evil little cockroach!"
Those were the screams coming from the Head Common room at 10:36 PM, October 28th. Of course Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin, not to mention Head Boy was using his usual 'mudblood' curse at Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor, and Head Girl. How the Professors came across the conclusion to pair them, Hermione or Draco would never know, because all they did was fight for the two months they had been trapped together.
Tonight it was because Draco was making another comment about her famous and loyal best friend Harry Potter.
"You missed duty to make out with your little conniving, full-of-himself friend, Potter!" Draco accused.
"As if! Do you think any thing I ever dream of doing with Harry is one: Any of your concern or two: ever be half as horrible as the way you and Pansy carry on?" Hermione screamed, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, because I was making out with Harry," She said rolling her eyes, "That I fell asleep in class today because Pansy's annoying gasps for air and moans of (can you believe it) PLEASURE kept me up all night!"
"Good! Maybe you learned some thing! Because pleasure is some thing that you're never going to gain or get by sticking with Potter and Weasel..." Draco lied, sure Pansy had enjoyed last night but Draco had been suffering in misery. He always had been, with Parkinson clinging on to him, whispering annoying things in his ears...at least this was a good way to intimidate a certain virgin mudblood.
"I don't know what Pansy finds in you...maybe she actually is that stupid!" Hermione said, trying to scrape the bottom of the barrel for things to find probably because that had no complete impact at all, at least Draco made himself believe that, and every thing else she said was meaningless.
"Listen Granger, I don't care about what you have to say...I actually don't care about you at all," Draco stated simply, "So I'm going to bed...and as much as I enjoyed taking points from Gryffindor tonight I missed seeing the look of horror on your face when I did so, so please don't miss duty tomorrow mudblood,"
Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed, walking to the over stuffed black couch and picking up her bag, he watched her walk pass his room, the bathroom then to her room. Which in the process of closing the door, she slammed it. Draco smirked and walked into his room. Getting to her every night was starting to rub off. He did all he could, letting Pansy devour him to keep her from sleep, call her the worst things in Merlin's mind to make her too depressed to sleep, and fight with her so long that by the time she went to her room she had not done any work, and had to complete it during her sleeping hours.
She was missing sleep. So she had it in class, and the Professor's took points. And she always looked less then 80 percent perfect...bags under her eyes, hair not combed, robes unruly and every thing disorganized, but it amused Draco to think she probably didn't even care about her appearance. Draco slumped down on to his bed and guessed if she had no work tonight she would probably just be catching up on sleep.
Draco let his eyes close and he drifted off into a sleep, only dreaming of the names he would call Hermione Granger the mudblood the very next day. He had been calling her mostly only mudblood, it was really the only thing wrong with her, other than she was a know-it-all, being clever was fine. But showing it off as she did was sickening. Just because she knew some thing any one else didn't, never meant she had to brag about it.
Oh, and another flaw, possibly the biggest of all. Her friendship with Potter, sure, not as worse as the muggle blood flowing through her veins but almost as bad. Potter and Granger had some thing in common, they were full of themselves. They always told him he was as well, but about being famous and smart is how they did it. What else did he have to do to fight back but brag that he was obviously better looking, cleaner, and better then them? In ways it was true, in ways he was modest, but in most he had to admit he was just fooling himself.
Sure Granger had muggle parents and lived in the muggle world. But was that truly as bad as where he lived, where Death Eater meetings were held at least once a week, where death, slaughter and torture took place. At first he found it hard to believe that his father was a murder and evil, but then it made a lot of sense.
He remembered once last summer, interrupting one of the meetings...after the Death Eaters had left to return to their apparent good Wizarding lives he remembered the pain his father gave him with the crutacious curse. 'You are not to know these things until you are given the dark mark,' He had never told his father, but being a Death Eater wasn't the only thing he wanted in life, it was actually probably the last thing he wanted in life. Sure he liked putting Granger down, but for fun, not for the fact he knew he might just kill her one day.
He knew he had said in second year, he wished the Baskalisk would kill her...but after seeing his father commit so many murders he Draco Malfoy regretted ever breathing such words. She was innocent, that was why. What had she ever done to deserve death? She was just muggle born, and though she didn't belong here, she didn't deserve to die because of it. He would admit when she hit him in Third year, he had gone over board but the raging mudblood had matured since then and like him only used verbal attacks, for he would never hit Granger. One because she was surprisingly a girl (her lack of not looking at her face every morning would give you doubts) and two because she was a mudblood. He didn't need the dirt. Just because she didn't deserve to die in his eyes didn't mean she still wasn't filthy, that was the only thing he agreed with, with his father, but he would never tell his father that for risk of more pain.
But would pain ever need be a fear in his future? He was sure if he faltered once as a Death Eater he would be killed and punished by Voldemort. There was nothing he could do...there was no one who could help...he just had to play along and only welcome the quickest death.
