Drabble #2: "Love? What do I know about love?"
AN: Not mine etc. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Draco's eyes narrowed as Granger got all but a standing ovation for yet another perfect essay. Stabbing his desk viciously with his quill he imagined that bucktoothed bushy haired mudblood…
Gritting his teeth in annoyance he tried to ignore the surprised butterflies in his stomach as she turned his way and smiled.
One day he'd have to fess up to the fact that he didn't hate Hermione Granger any longer. He could already imagine his father's face if he ever got wind of this unprecedented disaster. There'd be another burnt hole on the Black's family tree for sure.
'Love?' He sighed and struggled with the odd feeling in his chest as Hermione still smiled his way. 'What do I know about love?'
From the corner of his eyes he saw Ron and Harry smiling back at her.