"Watch it, Malfoy," Hermione Granger hissed, as one of her many books fell out of her arms when Draco Malfoy bumped into her.

"Why? You would've dropped them without me ever laying a finger on you anyway," he smirked.

Hermione Granger was in her 7th year in Hogwarts. Her parents had taken a trip to Hawaii and they almost never remembered to write to her. The only person Hermione could really talk to, about everything, was Ginny Weasley; Hermione's other best friend's little sister. Hermione had been Ron and Harry's best friend since 1st year. They were almost as close to her as Ginny was, except for the fact that they were boys. Hermione and Draco Malfoy had been enemies since 1st year as well. He had always called her "Mudblood" around her friends. This made Hermiome furious and had led to her punching Malfoy in the face in 3rd year.

"Do me a favor and get out of my life," Hermione scoffed, leaning down to pick up her book. She was about to grab it when Draco stepped on it.

Hermione looked up, her face contorted of anger and embarrassment.

"If you don't mind, Malfoy, get off of my book and be on your way."

Draco smirked his usual smirk, but then looked at Hermiome. Her brown eyes were glowing and her hair was unusually straight. Her lips were pursed together tightly; she did not look happy. He then looked at her lips. They were pink and soft and beautiful. They were perfect for kissing.

Wait. Draco thought. Pink and soft and PERFECT?

"Draco! Er, Malfoy! For the fiftieth time, GET OFF MY BOOK!" Hermione literally screamed.

Draco looked at Hermione. He smirked.

"And what if I don't, Granger?" he smiled wickedly, his eyes flashing. "What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend Ronny to come and yell at me?"

Hermione looked angry at first, but then blushed. She looked up at Draco and then looked back down.

"He's not my boyfriend, Malfoy."

"Then he's your slave?"

"My WHAT?"

"Oh you know, the slave that does everything for you, and lives to serve you."

Hermione thought for a moment.

"He does that, but he's most definitely not my slave," she muttered, pushing Draco's foot back and picking up her book.

Draco stepped in front of her and looked her in the face. He studied her for a moment before turning and leaving.

Hermione looked shocked, as she ran after him.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?" she said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to face her.

Draco's skin tingled when Hermione's fingers lingered on his shoulder. She then realized what she was doing and then blushed and took her hand away.

"It's called 'walking', Granger, and I'm surprised that you haven't heard of it," he snickered.

Hermione mentally laughed. What a lame answer.

"No, I was talking about checking me out in the hallway, not calling me 'Mudblood' and then walking away," she said, slightly blushing.

Draco laughed bitterly.

"Me? Checking YOU out? A Mudblood? Don't be stupid, Hermione, Slytherins have MUCH better taste than Gryffindors."

Hermione was about to yell when she realized that he called her by her first name. She decided to tease him.

"Malfoy, you obviously have a thing for me. First you check me out, then you walk away, and now you're calling me Hermione?" she smirked, hoping that she copied Draco's smirk.

He opened his mouth and then closed it. What was the point, arguing with a Mudblood?

"Don't you have a class to be in? A book to read?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

Hermione giggled. She then blushed and forced herself to frown.

"You're not denying that you like me," she whispered, leaning closer to Draco, her breath making his neck tickle.

"W-Well Granger, I don't see the point in arguing with a Mudblood," he said coldly. Yikes. He didn't mean to sound so harsh. Was Hermione offended? Wait. Why would he care?

She looked heartbroken. That word stung. She looked up at him, punched him in the shoulder and walked away.

Draco stood there, trying to remember what just happened. He, Draco Malfoy, was checking Hermione Granger out. Hermione had punched him in the SHOULDER instead of the face. What was going on?

He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. I hate Hermione, he said to himself; she's a bloody little Mudblood that I don't need to waste my time with.

But when Pansy Parkinson ran up to him and started flirting with him, he didn't flirt back. It seemed... Wrong.