AN: This started out as Draco-drabble and evolved into much more. This will definitely be a multi-chapter fic. It's strictly AU/non-canon. You'll see how and why as you read. Voldemort is not in the picture, screw him. We don't need him. This is a world where the students could grow up and learn at Hogwarts without the threat of Voldemort looming over their heads, starting from fourth year. His plans never worked at the Triwizard Tournament. This takes place sixth year.
Basically this is an inside look on a version of Draco Malfoy that I haven't exactly dove into yet. Mostly my Draco's are a little more willing and a bit less angry in my other fics, so this was something slightly different for me. It's a version of him I've wanted to write for a long time though, so here we are. We'll see if Hermione likes this Draco of mine, hm?
Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever, don't sue.
Coming of Age
Chapter One
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April 1st, 1997 – the Courtyard, Hogwarts Castle
It was a Wednesday, almost in the evening. Draco Malfoy was meandering across the walk to greet Blaise Zabini on the other side. He cut through the grass and – happening to have glanced over – idly observed Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom all sharing a laugh.
His sharp eyes narrowed in on the vivacious brunette for a split second as the three of them sat there on the bench. Unknowingly, he'd found enjoyment in the sound of her hearty chuckle, inherently oblivious to the way his heart tugged in that direction.
There was something there, something that he couldn't see. It was deep within the barricades of his mind, trapped in a place for discarded thoughts. Draco was completely unable to acknowledge this part of his subconscious but it was there, just waiting to be tapped into.
Three days later, he was sitting round the Common Room with the usual suspects. It'd been long after dinner and the female snakes had just receded to their nests. The young bachelors warmed themselves with a glass of firewhiskey and were chatting mischievously about the witches of the castle.
"You've got to be kidding me," Draco seethed mere minutes into their discussion.
"What? The girl's always got that far-away, dreamy look in those big baby-blues!" Theodore Nott expressed with a smoldering passion. "I'd love to see exactly how dreamy I can get them, you know, like while her pretty mouth is around my cock," he capitulated vulgarly and then gulped some of his beverage.
"She does have gorgeous hair," Blaise added, nodding his head in agreement.
"And another thing," said Theo. "Everyone thinks she's some sort of idiot but from my observations, she's quick and clever."
"Concurred," stated Zabini.
"Well she could be, she is in Ravenclaw after all," Draco rolled his eyes, not really caring for the conversation.
Theo's eyes twinkled deviously and a huge grin stretched over his face. "Here's a question: If you had to pick, who in Gryffindor would you let ride your broomstick?"
"What a frightening idea," Draco's brows furrowed, and he drank his magically chilled whiskey as if to get the bad taste off his tongue.
"I know exactly who I'd pick," Blaise deadpanned, taking a swift sip of his own drink. "Ginny Weasley, so I can spank her freckled white arse for all those times she booted mine out in the pitch."
Both Draco and Theo shrugged, but sincerely understood where their comrade was coming from. The copper-haired Weaselette was a big deal, helping Gryffindor clean-house in just about every tournament. The losses had been aggravating for them all but nobody had been more frustrated than Zabini.
Years prior, they'd begun as vicious enemies, he and Weasley. Their intense dynamic had rivaled even that of the palpable contempt boiling between Draco and Harry Potter. Then somehow over time, the hateful invective they'd mutually shared had oddly morphed into tamer slews of snarky remarks and witty jabs thrown back and forth around the Quidditch pitch.
Before long, this seemingly trivial occurrence started getting really interesting. Out of the blue, their ruthless repartee had now expanded beyond the pitch and straight into the castle, where they'd rousted each other at every turn in corridors and during meals.
At this point, it was crossing over to flirting and everyone could bloody tell they wanted to shag each other senseless. It'd clearly come as no shock just then to Zabini's confidants. Obviously, Draco didn't approve.
"I could definitely see that," said Theodore and when it became apparent that he was literally imagining the visual, Blaise sent a death glare at him.
"Stop seeing it," he ordered but Nott shook his head enthusiastically, laughing like a madman for fun. "You're obnoxious,"
"So this is a life or death situation, am I right?" Draco acutely cut in, yet his words were already beginning to slur slightly from the alcohol. "Because if it weren't, I'm telling you right now I wouldn't come within an inch of any bint gallivanting about in Gryffindor's colors,"
"Yes. Draco, it is a life or death situation." Theo said agitated-like. "Someone is actually lifting their wand at you, telling you that you have to fuck a Gryffindor. So mate, who'll it be?"
The silver-blonde remained silent for a moment before trying to speak, "I… I don't – I don't really," his hesitation was getting the better of him and his friends knew it. "I'm not choosing."
"Wha- You'd rather die?" Theodore persisted, his eyebrows nearly skimming his hair-line. He started laughing, totally befuddled by his friend who was finishing up his glass. "You're seriously telling me you'd rather die than have sex with one of those beautiful little kitties?"
Draco gagged in disgust and stood, readying himself for escape. "None of them are beautiful and honestly… yeah." He'd wished Theo would just leave it at that, or that Blaise might change the subject instead. Something, anything because if not he was going to bed.
"Fine," the other boy smirked. "I'd pick Hermione Granger, no question."
He practically recoiled at the name, almost retching once again. "Ugh, that's worse than Looneygood,"
Theo was fully offended now, a gasp-like noise emitting from his throat. "Fuck you, Lovegood is hot."
Before Draco could protest further, Blaise tried to intercede, "Actually, Granger's turned out to be… a sexy little thing. It's hard not to notice."
"That is positively ridiculous," Draco conveyed with conviction, blind to the reality once more. "I'm going to bed now, on that note. Please, don't even continue. You both should just stop there before I start regarding you as mentally ill,"
"Oh shut up you twat," Theo spat back at him indignantly. "Rude, that because you're so socially inept, you can't stop yourself from ruining it for the rest of us."
Draco balked, insulted. "I'm not-"
"When it comes to a nice shagging it shouldn't matter about blood purity or status. It's not like you're going to marry any of them." Theo relented.
"You said yourself, you'd found Mandy Brocklehurst to be really pretty," Zabini interjected smugly, referring to when they were speaking of the Ravenclaws.
Nott pointed his finger at the Malfoy heir. "Yes you did and I know for a fact she's half-blood."
"It's not like I'd actually have sex with Brocklehurst," responded Draco, waving his hand in dismissal as he edged towards the end of the wall. "Even if she wanted to,"
Theodore filled his cup half-way with more firewhiskey. "Are you that far up your arse that you wouldn't fuck anyone who isn't in Slytherin?"
"Heh, I guess so." Draco clipped and with that he rounded the corner to the dormitories, a haughty saunter in his step. He was absolutely finished with… whatever that was. He didn't want to think. All he cared about now was for sleep to overtake his mind.
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.
It was a misty morning. He was walking through the grounds; the sun was rising, nipping him at his heels as he advanced. He wasn't quite sure his destination, but he was approaching the tree-cover by the Black Lake.
When he got to one of the largest trees nearest the water, he noticed an all too familiar mop of messy, molasses curls splayed out over the grass. "What is she doing?" he thought out-loud.
Then he noticed she was fast asleep, an open book spread open over her lithe tummy and a small smile pulling away at her heart-shaped lips.
She was wearing a snug, white sundress that accentuated her curves and wantonly exposed her very touchable-looking thighs. Her freckled, warm features and slender, sensual body was somehow making his mouth-water.
No, this wasn't right. Hermione Granger wasn't actually attractive, was she? How had he not realized?
Yet, he did know that. Always in the back of his subconscious but he'd never dared entertain it. Why should he start now? He hated her; she hated him – that's just the way it was. She was the epitome of everything he shouldn't like.
Draco despised the Gryffindors, just like his parents did and their parents before them. They were a rag-tag bunch of mangy, self-righteous mongrels who were typically the first ones in line to jump in and be the fucking hero.
Granger had been especially appalling to him at times. It wasn't even really that she was muggleborn but mostly because – without fail – she'd remained Ron Weasley and Harry Potter's ever-faithful swot sidekick.
Weaselbee and Pothead were total morons who used her and yet for whatever bizarre reason, she'd stuck by them. It was sickening to him somehow.
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Hermione Granger always had to be right, too eager to know all the answers.
Draco could admit it, albeit begrudgingly; she was a force to be reckoned with in practically everything she did. He would have had no problem sailing at the tip-top of the class with his grades had it not been for that meddlesome wench showing him up at every turn in almost every subject. Instead he'd stayed wading at second, right behind her.
It'd never helped of course, that his father consistently berated him about it during the holidays as if the fact of it all wasn't bad enough.
"Draco?"
He gasped, staggering back in surprise as she awakened. Granger lifted herself off the ground, peering up at him through heavy lashes while she held the book against her stomach. "Wha-What...?" He didn't understand, couldn't wrap his head around her addressing him by his first name.
"Why are you acting so strange?" she queried promptly, ascending to her bare feet and suddenly standing before him. Draco – very confused – stuttered some more as he blinked down at her big, honey-pot eyes.
"…me? Acting strange? Granger, do you know how absurd you sound?" he felt he was being smart, but then she cackled. She fucking cackled right in his face and he hated to acknowledge it but she was absolutely lovely. "I'm certain I don't know what you find so funny,"
"You're practically naked!" she shrieked in a harsh whisper. He smirked, determined not to fall for her tomfoolery. He was confident he'd remembered getting dressed before wandering outside, but then he remembered that there was nothing to actually remember because this was a dream. He was without a doubt, definitely in a dream – or a nightmare, depending on your perspective.
To his horror he found himself clad in only his briefs. "Oh whatever," he huffed. "It's not like I have any reason to be bashful," he turned, flexing his back muscles and arms for show. "I mean, look at me Granger; I'm as they say, fit as a fiddle, I think. Besides, I'm not worried about what you of all people-"
As he looked back at her, he was rendered shocked at the sight he was met with. No longer was there a hint of her sundress. It'd seemed to have disappeared into thin air. In replacement was a petal-pink brassiere with matching panties stretched thinly over her supple body.
"What the f-"
Hermione spoke no words as she pressed herself close to him, already running her fingers along the stiffness of his fully-erect shaft. He hissed at her touch, it almost hurt he was so hard but she was being so gentle and…
Draco sighed in frustrated agony. Why was this happening to him? He didn't ask for this but damn it all did it feel good. He was holding back, he wanted to give in but... he couldn't.
His lips parted, a moan escaping him as she pumped his length in her hand. Steadily she was bringing him to ruin. "Why?" he asked, teeth grit.
She appeared thoughtful for a second, then "Why not?" she countered.
It was his turn to laugh now, giddy creases forming at the corners of his eyes but she was still massaging his throbbing stick. "I... uh, I-I did have a sensible argument for why not just a moment ago but… now it doesn't seem so important."
"Let go Draco," Hermione whispered.
"I c-can't," he held her close, his head dipping back in nirvana.
"Yes you can. Just let it happen, just let it all happen."
Draco jerked awake, panting and sweaty from his saucy visions. He held his face in his hands, flabbergasted and irritated not just from the dream, but from his painfully real arousal.
Theodore stirred, yawning in his own bed beside him. "You alright?" he croaked.
At first he wasn't sure how to answer, and then, "Yeah Nott, I'm fine. Just... go back to sleep," he ordered. It wasn't quite time for everyone to get up yet but Draco was ready to start his day. There was no way he was going to resubmit himself back to the merciless throes of his subconscious after that and he certainly wasn't going to tell anybody about it.
Matter of fact, he was exceedingly miffed at his so-called friends for putting these outrageous notions in his head to begin with. This was most definitely their fault.
"Yeah whatever," Theo grumbled as he tossed on his side.
Draco slipped quietly into the bathroom but no, he was not going to take care of his… problem. He wasn't sure if he could handle how shameful he might feel afterwards, how uncomfortable he'd be with himself. He'd simply take an ice-cold shower and forget about that nightmare. It'd never happened.
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.
April 12th, 1997 – the Library, Hogwarts Castle
It was after all of his classes when Draco was careening through the aisles of the bookshelves, searching for a specific tome he needed for his Herbology essay. It hadn't taken him very long to find it and once he did, feeling curious he opened it on the spot to briefly peruse the table of contents.
He'd just figured out which chapter would help him the most when he heard… snoring? Well, someone sure was knackered. Draco kind of wondered who it was. If it was Longbottom, he'd enchant him to have even bigger ears, like an elephant. Maybe even a trunk if he was feeling particularly committed.
Closing his book, he turned on his heel walking to the next aisle over at the very back of the library. He almost dropped his parcel when he saw that it was Granger of all people. 'Sweet Salazar, no!' he whined in his mind although he was rendered stunned, his feet not moving and he wasn't able to explain why.
She didn't seem to be anymore but right before, she'd been snoring so loudly and he really almost mistook her for a boy. That part was pretty hilarious, and he decided it'd be great ammunition if ever there was an opportunity. Not that he thought he'd ever be able to talk to her again after…
His eyes scanned her over. He'd found her asleep, how strange that this would happen. Draco was close enough he could see her face but without thinking he stepped forward to see her even better.
He wasn't sure he'd ever been this close to Granger on purpose in his life. Draco had kept his eyes away from her at all costs for the last seven days and now he was stuck here, leering like a creep? What kind of fool was he?
If he really wanted to be foolish, he could reach out right now and move that pesky curl out from view of all of those tiny freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks – as if it was dusted brown sugar atop cake.
A thought crept in through the steel-walls of the barricades and made its way to the forefront of his conscious. He wondered: were there even more freckles hidden beneath her uniform and if so, where were they?
Draco definitely wished he hadn't thought that though, because then even more made their way in and now he was trying to recall if he could remember if she did or didn't have freckles over her body in his dream, erm… nightmare.
Granger's mane of hair rustled and he panicked, his book flying from his hand. It'd hit the table, shuddering it enough and making a somewhat jarring noise that she was rattled awake at once.
Swiftly she noticed the book first and then him. He had zero time to run from his mess.
"Malfoy?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes. "Wha-"
"It's nothing Granger," he sneered and hastily grabbed his disheveled tome from the floor. "That bushy bird's nest on top of your head gave me a fright. I… thought you were a rabid animal,"
Hermione stared him down through his excuse, coming to her senses. Something in Malfoy's demeanor, in his tone of voice – it threw her off. She felt irrevocably unconvinced. "Are you… are you quite sure you're okay?" she nudged timidly, decidedly ignoring his taunting. His stone-grey eyes widened and his jaw clenched, chin jutting out with prideful disdain.
"Do me a favor and get over yourself Granger," he snickered down at her. He was holding the book at his side, ready to walk away. "Not everyone is a wounded victim in need of help, especially not the mousy sort of help from an overbearing, uppity little witch like you,"
Her mouth hung open, aghast. His words actually stung a bit that time, although he'd called her worse.
Still… she chewed on her lip in agitation before letting out an exasperated puff of breath. "Well then, what if you did me a favor and everyone in this library a favor and get your putrid, ferret stink out of here?"
Draco could do nothing but smirk, for this was the outcome he'd wanted. For them to remain as they'd always been: rivals; enemies. He swallowed hard, his dignity along with it. "Gladly, fucking wench,"
He'd clipped his words so tightly, so waspishly. He didn't look back as he made his dramatic exit, hadn't seen how her brows crinkled in contemplation; he never stayed long enough to notice that Hermione Granger's gaze glinted with suspicion and from then on she was intrigued.
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April 13th, 1997 - the Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle
The next evening at dinner, Hermione and Ginny took seats across from Harry and Ron who were already tucking in. It was a Saturday, and everyone was comfortable donned in their usual weekend garb.
"And there he was, just staring at me," Ginny had whispered to her right before they sat down. The red-head pulled on her sleeve. "Oh Gods, don't look but he's doing it again."
Hermione was so brave as she tried her best not to, but eventually her eyes won out.
"I told you not to look!" Ginevra squealed.
"Look..?" Ron questioned. His mouth was full of turkey leg, which was typical.
"Yeah, who aren't we looking at?" Harry queried nonchalant-like, but his slicing emerald eyes anticipated an answer. Ginny had forever been into the Boy-Who-Lived since she'd first met him when they were smaller. However, after a girl gets ignored for a while, her heart tends to stray elsewhere.
Harry once had a crush on Ravenclaw Cho Chang, but the Chinese beauty and Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory had already fallen for each other in fourth year. When Cedric had rightfully won the Triwizard Tournament, Harry chose to give up on girls until he changed his mind otherwise.
Yet this year, for some reason he couldn't stop looking at Ginevra Weasley. She was his best mate's little sister, it would just be weird… wouldn't it? Damnit, she'd become so attractive to him. They'd always been pals, he and Gin. Harry had always admired her fiery personality, thought it complimented his own. Honestly, it was just a plus that she was gorgeous… but he wasn't sure if he could do that to Ron.
Not only just, but everyone knew that she and Blaise Zabini had a… thing going on. Their blatant flirting had gone on and on all year. Harry really didn't have to ask who they'd just been speaking of. He was kind of being a prick on purpose but he couldn't help himself. He was stark raving jealous.
"Just the usual riff raff," Ginny admitted, rolling her eyes at both the subject and Harry Potter. "Nothing out of the ordinary,"
Hermione's gaze involuntarily shifted back to Zabini, then to Theodore Nott beside him and then to –
Draco Malfoy appeared to be just as shocked as her when their eyes met and hurriedly, he turned his attention away from the Gryffindor table.
Shit, why did she do that?
She really wished she hadn't already known the answer. Honestly, she couldn't get that moment in the library out of her head since it happened yesterday. It wasn't that she enjoyed the exchange, obviously. Hermione could do well without having to interact with a Malfoy ever again, but there was just… something about him, something there.
He wasn't just his regular Draco-self. Well, on the outside he'd tried his hardest to come across that way but Hermione could feel something in the air, a tension. He was on the verge of spontaneous eruption. Her logical mind was leaning towards one theory she didn't actually want to prove.
Similar to Zabini, Malfoy was radiating the same ferocious, alpha-like aura, sort of like… he was on the hunt and she was potential prey.
Regardless, Hermione felt there was no way that this could be the case. It just had to be something else. Maybe it was just a fluke or a phase and after today, he'd never give her any reason to further be concerned.
As was her nature unfortunately, she had the innate need to figure out the truth.
Sometimes truths come at high prices. Would it be worth it?
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.
AN: The next scene I'm thinking happens directly after dinner. Perhaps Hermione will go after him, but I haven't made a decision yet. What do you think will happen? I'd love to hear your thoughts, they are everything to me. Thank you for reading :o)