Observations

Draco Malfoy was a creature of observation. Of course this was not a habit to be confused with the wandering eyes of his housemates. No, Draco was selective with his gaze. He was not passively fixated and enamoured with every well endowed broad who so much as spared a glance in his direction. The banality of surface level flirtations had ceased to illicit that giddy excitement they had in his younger years at Hogwarts.

His circumstances had changed. Considerably. Now when Draco looked at the girls around him he frequently felt a single overwhelming emotion, indifference. He wasn't a complete arse of course, he knew that his lack of interest was just as much his fault as theirs. Maybe even more so. You could say that having the lives of him and his parents resting on his shoulders - resting on his ability to doom his school and his headmaster to certain death, had significantly reduced the amount of time he had for obsessing over such trivial things.

Draco Malfoy had a lot to think about over these coming months and above it all he had a cover to maintain. Now, at the beginning of his sixth year - his freshly minted prefect badge still shiny on his lapel, was not the time for slipping. He had a reputation to uphold. In another life his efforts would have been solely focused on his N.E.W.T's, Quidditch, and, above it all, securing the title of Head Boy in his final year. Of course none of that really mattered now, but still the voice of Lucius Malfoy echoed in his mind, 'appearances are everything'.

Yes, Draco had a lot to think about. Which was why he was perturbed at the fact that his careful gaze had found itself, for not the first time in his life, glued to the back of an insufferable Gryffindor's head. Hermione Granger was whipping her neck this way and that as she engaged in what was probably an uninspiring conversation with the other two members of the Golden Trio. Her and the Weasel were likely carrying on about some argument the dimwit couldn't hope to win, while Potter interjected now and again - the amused and impartial third party. It was the same routine he and his classmates had bore witness to since first year, and Draco usually had no problems blocking them out. But it wasn't them he was fixated on. It was her.

Draco was a man of logic and reason. He liked order and structure and perhaps that was why the know it all's physics defying hair seemed to perplex him so. Granted Granger's bushy mane had settled down considerably in recent years, but it was still far from tame. With every turn of her neck another curl managed to free itself from her vain attempt to secure them with a lone ribbon. It was maddening.

He was momentarily distracted as Blaise Zabini finally decided to grace the class with his presence and Draco wordlessly shifted his assignment over for his friend to copy. The Gryffindor Trio were not the only one's with routines of their own. He muttered his obligatory responses to Blaise, all the while returning his stare to Granger. Class had started now and she'd settled into her seat as she always did, perched on the edge with her back straight. Her gaze was fixed to the front - McGonagall the recipient of her undivided attention. Draco had started to notice that she barely even bowed her head to take notes anymore, her quill moved frantically of it's own accord as if she no longer even needed to stare at the parchment.

A question was asked and her hand, obviously, was raised. She gave the correct answer with quiet confidence, the kind one can only possess when they no longer have anything to prove. Gone was the first year girl who practically leapt out of her seat when given the chance to show everyone she knew the correct answer. After all she was, he noted with long brewing bitterness, the brightest witch of their age.

It was her never failing intelligence he'd first noticed when his involuntary study and fixation of Granger had began. It was October of first year, the three amigos mutualistic relationship was still in it's early days and his disdain for her existence had yet to manifest itself. In fact if he were being honest with himself, he was jealous of her. Jealous, but also fascinated.

Lucius Malfoy had made it explicitly clear that Draco was expected to be the best: best student, best Slytherin, best son. Inadequacy was not acceptable and perfection was the only standard to meet. And why shouldn't it be? After all Draco had been trained by the best tutors from the age of 4 years old. He was fluent in French, German, and Latin all before he'd even set a foot in Hogwarts. He'd been raised in magic, it flowed through his blood. It was his birthright.

And yet here she was. His competition. This girl he'd never heard of before and yet had the answer to every question. It was a miracle that her arm was still attached to her body with the amount of times she flailed it about daily. He wasn't sure how quickly it'd happened, but soon everyone knew that Hermione Granger was number one. He was supposed to be the one to beat, and now he was racing to catch up just like everyone else.

So he studied her. Watched how she learned, hoping to absorb it and use it for his own gain. He spent more nights in the library, poured over his books while his friends were more interested in pulling pranks on ghosts. And so he'd started answering questions first, getting the same marks on tests, relishing in the way she'd whip her head around to look at him with shock when the correct answer was not hers to give. And thus began their rivalry. She wasn't a filthy little mudblood to him, not yet. She was simply his opponent in the contest for academic superiority.

All that would change of course. It was Christmas when Narcissa asked Draco what he thought of his school and classmates. Draco had barely had a moment to collect his thoughts when Lucius interjected from his spot next to the fireplace.

"Yes Draco how are your classes? Because from what Severus tells me your intellectual accomplishments leave much to be desired."

Narcissa frowned at her husband and gently caressed her son's head. The act had comforted Draco at the time. "Lucius please, I'm sure Draco is just finding his footing aren't you dear? I'm sure he's still the smartest of the bunch by a landslide aren't you sweetheart?"

He remembered chewing at his bottom lip while pinned underneath his mother's reassuring hand and father's unnerving gaze. "Yes mother. Except for one girl. Her name's Hermione Granger, she's a Gryffindor and she's a complete know it all. I don't think she sleeps, all I ever see her doing is studying it's insanity."

His mother looked confused as she turned back to her husband, "Granger… I haven't heard that name before. Lucius do you know a Granger? Someone at the Ministry perhaps?"

He risked a glance at his father whose stone cold facade betrayed nothing except a twinge of calculation and a promise.

"I'll look into it."

And looked into it he had. The next day during Christmas at the Nott's Draco snuck away from the parlour where the children had been designated to. People like the Malfoys, Parkinsons and the Notts were still under the archaic impression that children were best left unseen until they had something valuable to contribute to society. How he'd wished to remain unseen every time he landed beneath his father's punishing stare. He'd been looking for his mother when he paused outside the open drawing room where Lucius, the elder Nott and a handful of other members of his father's inner circle were gathered.

"A mudblood. Can you believe it," his father spat. Mudblood. It hadn't been the first time Draco heard that word cross Lucius's lips. "What'll be next? Dumbledore might as well start letting Muggles in amongst our children. It's disgusting is what it is, it's —,"

His father's eyes landed on him and he paused. Lucius's mouth twisted into a sneer of disapproval.

"Come Draco," his father beckoned. "You may as well be here for this. After all, it is my own son who is the source of this humiliation."

He walked into the room, his face flushed red with embarrassment as he stood silently before the men around him.

"What? You've nothing to say my boy?"

He pinned his eyes to the ground, "Forgive me father, I do not understand."

Several of the men laughed and Draco winced while Lucius looked at him with revulsion, "You don't understand? What's there to understand Draco? Other than the fact that my son, a pureblood, the heir to the Malfoy line is nothing but a second place finish to a filthy little mudblood."

Filthy little mudblood. The uproar was enormous, but Lucius didn't laugh. His lips were taunt as he stared down at his son. An unspoken warning passed between them. Lyall Goyle was the first to stand. He was tipsy and loud from the wine as he lay a meaty hand on Draco's shoulder. "But not for long eh Draco?"

His eyes never left his fathers, who stared down at him with a challenge. There was only one answer.

"No. Not for long."

It was only with an elbow to the ribs from Zabini did Draco finally attend to his name being called.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

He focused his gaze on Professor McGonagall who was looking rather miffed with hands on her hips.

"Yes Professor," he replied coolly.

"Yes Professor? Mr. Malfoy I don't know what you're daydreaming about, but either answer my question or put your hand down."

Ah yes, her question. He searched his memory to see if anything had registered in his unattended ear. He couldn't even remember raising his hand to answer a question in the first place, never the less what said question was. He let his eyes return to where they'd been a moment before only to find that Granger's back was no longer to him. She was turned in her chair, her own arm raised of course, looking at him with skepticism as if she thought he was insane.

How little times had changed.

"Sorry Professor," he flashed McGonagall his most pleasant and apologetic grin, "Would you mind repeating the question?"

"Oh for mercy's sake," he elder woman muttered under her breath, "I asked whether or not anyone could tell us what preempted the Animagus Registry to create the Protection Against Malicious Transformations Act."

In his periphery he could see Granger frowning at him, undoubtedly annoyed that he was wasting precious class time. He met her eyes for a moment and smirked before turning back towards McGonagall. He answered without hesitation.

"It was the trial of Balthasar Vidal in 1692. Vidal was an animagus who transformed into a coyote and terrorized Muggle villages near his residence in Normandy. He was eventually caught by a Squib after having destroyed tens of properties and killed three muggle children. Vidal was brought before the French Ministry where he was persecuted for his crimes. He was stripped of his wand, but suffered no corpal punishments for his acts."

McGonagall looked slightly taken aback. "Yes well uh, thank you for enlightening us Mr. Malfoy. You are indeed correct, Balthasar Vidal's case —." He allowed himself a quick glance to gauge Granger's reaction, but the brunette had already returned her attention to the front of the class. Shame.

Blaise on the other hand was staring at him dumbfounded.

"How the bloody hell did you know that?"

Malfoy responded nonchalantly, "A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration."

"First Year, God, I barely even remember what classes we took in first year."

He rolled his eyes, "Zabini you can barely even remember what classes we're taking now."

His friend leaned back in his chair and leered, "Fair point." With that Malfoy returned his attention to the old professor, consciously keeping his eyes from straying where they shouldn't be for the remainder of the class.

Transformation came to an end and everyone raced to reach the doors first, as they always did, like a hoard of untrained animals. He noticed Granger in particular got up in a hurry, no doubt because they had Arithmacy next on the opposite side of the castle. Of course she would be there first. Draco on the other hand felt no such motivation to rush. He and Blaise languidly collected their things while Zabini talked his ear off about some 5th year Ravenclaw he'd spent the morning with.

"Malfoy, you coming?" Zabini leaned against the doorway, keeping his arms raised so the last few straggling students were forced to crouch beneath it on their way out. Draco wasn't sure what motivated to take a final look around the classroom, but he did and noticed a certain someone had left a familiar textbook in their rush to leave.

Malfoy gave a curt shake of his head to which Zabini shrugged, "Suit yourself."

When Malfoy was the last remaining person in the room he strode to the front of the class and picked up a hefty volume of Numerology and Grammatica. He couldn't helped but glean amusement from the irony that Granger had been careless enough to leave behind the very book she needed. He stood there for a moment and considered just leaving it here, rendering her stranded textbook-less during class. Her distress would certainly make for an interesting sight. But nevertheless he sighed and slipped the text into the pocket of his robes, the undetectable extension charm leaving it weightless.

He made his way out the room only to be stopped almost immediately. He had barely half a second to register her blurred figure as she came swinging past the corridor with complete disregard for the presence of anyone who she'd risk careening into. His arms lifted with lightning reflexes and caught her by the wrist and brought her to a halt mere inches away from his chest.

He had to bow his head in order to look at her.

"Granger." Her name left his lips as it always did, laced with boredom and a hint of malevolence - as if the act of merely acknowledging her presence was a burden.

His would be assailant's face was flushed and several more of the curls he'd been observing so intently had freed themselves from her hair tie and were now in disarray. She was panting too - clearly she'd ran back here the moment she noticed something was gone. Though it took him several moments he finally released his hold on her wrists. He dropped them casually and yet in his periphery he watched as she rubbed the space his hands had left the way one would when trying to scrub of something dirty. The irony of the action was not lost on him.

Draco broke the awkward silence between them, "Anyone ever tell you that you have about as much grace as a Horntail Granger?"

His comment seemed to be enough to stir her from confusion. Hermione Granger's eyes were fire as they met his. "I don't know Malfoy, has anyone ever tell you that you have about as much tact as a troll?"

He curved his mouth into a bemused smirk, never quite letting his amusement reach his eyes.

Before he could get a word in edgewise Granger had already begun her tirade, "Besides I'm not the one loafing in doorways waiting for someone to come and knock me over. Now if you will excuse me I have to go find my -," she made her way to push past him to enter the vacated classroom. Before she could make any headway he removed the sizeable book she was searching for from his pocket and placed it between them.

She huffed in frustration, "Malfoy what in Godric's name — oh."

"I take it this is what you were ready to plough a man down for?" She eyed both him and the book with suspicion, waiting several moments before tentatively taking it from him. Malfoy didn't miss the way she carefully avoided any contact with his hands.

She stuffed the book in her own bag which was practically overflowing. He watched as she fiddled with worn leather clasp that she now tied rather than buckled to keep it closed. Even so it looked like it's days were numbered.

He observed her curiously as she shifted nervously on her feet. Nervousness. This was something he hadn't witnessed from her before. No, for the past few years Granger had been the perfect combination of overzealous, confident, and insufferable at worst. Cool, collected, and focused at best, but never nervous. Granted this was the first time the two of them had been alone in years. She probably thought he was going to hex her or something else equally deplorable.

"Well uh thank you. That was uncharacteristically decent of you," she finally managed to get out.

He was on the verge of making a snide comment on how low the mighty Gryffindor has stooped to be thanking the likes of him, when her brows settled into a frown.

"Wait. What exactly were you planning on doing with my book?"

He rolled his eyes. He shouldn't have been surprised at her assumption that he'd resort to something as trivial and childlike as stealing her book from her. As if he had nothing better to do with his time. Nevertheless, he felt a twinge of annoyance all the same. So much for uncharacteristically decent.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears you and I are the only ones who have Arithimacy after this class. I figured I'd spare myself the misfortune of witnessing you having a fit the moment you realized it was gone." He watched with satisfaction as her accusatory gaze morphed into one of embarrassment. She opened her mouth to speak, but this time it was he who cut her off.

He lowered his voice and shifted his body closer to hers. If anyone had been watching them the action would have appeared menacing. Maybe it was. "I don't waste my time on petty crimes, Granger."

If he'd thrown her off balance he couldn't tell as she narrowed her eyes at him. "No of course not. I'd imagine the crimes you busy yourself with are of a significantly different nature." She spat the words out with venom only to immediately clamp her mouth shut, as if insulting him had been a reflex she hadn't been able to control.

At that he sneered as was expected of him when really the words barely stung. After all she was right, but Draco Malfoy had long since stopped trying to be anything except the character he was expected to be.

They stood in silence a moment longer until he coolly slid past her. With his back to her he thought he heard her release a shaky breath. He wasn't entirely sure what motivated him to pause and turn back to look at her once more, but he did.

"You shouldn't concern yourself with my crimes Granger." And with that he left her standing in the arched doorway, not knowing whether his parting words had been a warning or a threat.

A/N : Ah this is exciting! My first Dramione story! Over the past year or so I've read so many Dramione fics that I've loved, more than I can probably count or remember, and I finally decided to post this little something I've had milling about in the back of my mind for quite some time now. In an impressive feat of procrastination I finally got this planned, written, and outlined the way I want the rest of this story to go. The events of sixth year will remain mostly canon compliant, but the progression of the war will diverge from the events of Deathly Hallows. While Draco and Hermione aren't a couple I've written for in the past, nor have I written anything set in the Hogwarts universe before, I am really excited about this story. It's more for myself than anything really as it's been stewing around in my imagination for such a long time.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed this quick introduction chapter. As all writers do I am always so grateful for anyone that takes the time to read my work or leave favourites, follows, or reviews. I love getting feedback so any thoughts you have are always welcome :) And finally disclaimer, these characters of course (unless otherwise stated) are not my own and they belong to J.K Rowling.

(Also if anyone is here wondering who the hell do I think I am for starting something new when I haven't been updating my other two works in progress... they're coming guys. Slowly, but surely I plan on finishing those. It's sometimes hard to find the time and inspiration, but I have definitely not abandoned them and do not intend to!)