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...
The Malfoy family finished their grand meal in the vast dining room. After snapping his fingers, Lucius Malfoy summoned three house elves to clear up. Draco wanted-needed-to ask his father for advice, something he rarely did.
"Father?" He asked.
"My study." Replied Lucius smoothly.
Draco followed his father into the spacious study and, on order, sat at one of the antique arm chairs.
"Draco, you wished to speak? Is it perhaps...about a certain person. At Hogwarts?"
The younger Malfoy's mouth hung open. How did he know?
"Well...yes."
"Granger?"
His eyes were wide. "How did you-"
"Draco, nothing gets past me. All you ever say in the holidays is Granger this, Granger that. You never mention Potter or Weasley this much. It's never how Parkinson brewed a potion, or how you bump into Lovegood in the Library."
Draco's cheeks tinted pink as he looked to the ground, biting his lip.
"Do I suspect a whiff of admiration?" Questioned the man.
His son stammered, trying to collect the right words. He decided he couldn't find them, so nodded his head slightly. "Sorry." He mumbled, earning a raised eyebrow.
"What for?"
"She a Mud- she's Muggle Born."
"Not all Muggle Borns are bad. From the sound of it, Miss Granger will intellectually challenge you. Keep you on your feet. Challenge you in general. Severus tells me how you try to outdo her."
His whole face glowed red-pink. "You're not mad?"
"No. I'd much rather her than that awful Parkinson girl."
He nodded in agreement. "She's brilliant." He breathed.