Draco Malfoy decided he wanted Hermione Granger the day she strode into his conference room. She had breezed in, an air of confidence, passion and conviction about her and he was helplessly drawn in like a magnet to steel. She'd possessed a remarkable fire, a swirling energy that seemed to snap and sizzle around her. That was what had gained his (and, much to his consternation, other men's) notice. She had apologized for her lateness before clasping her hands together, a lovely motion full of artless grace, and commenced the meeting.
He hadn't paid any attention at all to what she was saying (something about house elves, he vaguely recalled); he had been engrossed in studying her, watching her keenly through lidded eyes. She smiled often, he noticed appreciatively, her smile sweet, mysterious and beguiling. In her eyes, which were dark, there was an indefinable spark, a liveliness, an eagerness smoldering like embers of a fire, and a twinkle of mischief which could hardly be seen without delight. She spoke with unabated passion; her fervor was infectious, judging by the way she'd aroused (she certainly did him!) excited agreements and vigorous nods from the room's other occupants. Her voice, low, melodic and firm, swathed him in smooth silkiness, like soft velvet gliding over his skin.
He wondered how he hadn't noticed her allure during their time at Hogwarts. Oh right, he remembered, he hadn't had many chances to interact with her and when an opportunity presented itself, he had been a right bastard. Memories of the opprobrious things he had said and done had flitted through his mind, and a great surge of crippling emotions slammed through him-regret, guilt and shame. He had been cruel, spiteful, remorseless, cowardly, a contemptuous bigot mindlessly upholding a hypocritical despot's beliefs. Whereas, she was compassionate, valiant, conscientious, a champion of the underdog.
She was the very antithesis of him.
She was everything he remembered, yet so much more. She was strong-willed; in intolerable pain, she'd writhed on his drawing room floor, steadfastly refusing to break under Aunt Bella's brutal torture. Unwaveringly loyal, she'd fiercely defend Potty and the Weasel and would plow through danger to aid the dunderheads, with no thought to her own safety. She was intelligent and opinionated, always coming out on top in her classes. She was ingenious, a fighter, a survivor and had he mentioned witty?
The meeting had ended too soon for Draco's liking; he had wanted to observe her more. He was so curious about her. She fascinated him. He had to see Blaise.
"Blaise, I think I'm in love."
Blaise Zabini, who had been in the middle of delivering a lengthy and menacing tirade about an unintelligent and cretinous colleague, swiveled and gaped (something he'd sworn not to do) in utter astonishment at his blond companion. He was a little indignant at his pale friend for not listening to his rant, which was rather interesting, but instead, had been hunched over his drink, quietly brooding by his side. Intently so, was the questioner staring into his glass that one was inclined to believe that the very meaning of life was bobbing in its contents.
"You're pulling my wand, aren't you?" Blaise finally said when it seemed that Draco would not elaborate further.
"Hmmm...Nope," came the distant reply.
A great curiosity came on the dark-skinned man, (whose outrage at being disregarded was long forgotten in light of his fellow Slytherin's peculiar demeanor) to dive at once to the bottom of this mystery; but loyalty and faith to his friend were stringent obligations; and so he refrained from unleashing his deluge of burning questions. Knowing Draco, Blaise just had to be patient and Draco would eventually be forthcoming in revealing whatever that was troubling him. A comfortable silence descended over the pair, one dispiritedly pensive while the other was ruminating well upon the curious development.
Draco Malfoy, a blatant womanizer, mulling over a woman. It was inconceivable, incredible, laughable! But as Draco's handsome visage grew perversely forlorn, a rare expression with him, Blaise was convinced otherwise. Who was this mystifying woman whom Draco had shown more than a cursory interest in? What about her had induced this insouciant ladies' man to dwell wonderingly and rather wistfully upon his drinking vessel? His interest and curiosity were rapidly intensifying; he wouldn't be able to suppress them any longer. Just as he was about to demand an expatiation from the infuriatingly silent man, his hedonist counterpart spoke at last.
"I'm in love with a woman who hates me," Draco mourned, gazing into his glass sorrowfully.
"Oh, you're such a drama queen," Blaise said reprovingly.
"She'll never give me a chance. I was a fool!" Draco moaned on.
"You still are. Will you tell me who she is?" Blaise demanded, his patience wearing thin. Best friend or no, he was going to throttle the blond if he prolonged the suspense any more.
"You won't believe me," the Malfoy heir mumbled.
"Tell me!"
"Fine, it's Hermione Granger."
For the second time that night, Blaise Zabini gaped.
"Hermione Granger?"
Draco avouched this with a dejected nod.
"Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's best friend?"
"Yes!" Draco yelled in exasperation. "She walked into my meeting room a few days ago, and I can't get her out of my head. She's temptation personified, a siren song! She's, what was that Muggle song Pansy was obsessed with that time? It goes like this, this girl is on fiiiiiiiire, this girl is on fiiiiiiiii-"
Blaise clapped a hand over his friend's mouth, stoppering the dreadful screeches that poured forth from those lips that had charmed scores of unsuspecting women.
"It's Girl On Fire, Merlin knows how many times I've had to listen to it. And swear to me you'll never attempt to sing again. My ears haven't quite recovered from our last karaoke session."
"Oh, you're such a drama queen," Draco mimicked petulantly.
"Is she still hot?"
"Yes, but it wasn't her physical attributes alone that stirred me," Draco snapped defensively, fixing him with a baleful glare.
"I didn't mean anything by that. Well, what's the problem?"
"She loathes me, Blaise. "
Of course his mate didn't know how to deal with women like Hermione Granger; women simply didn't resist his charms; they flocked and flung themselves at him like moths to a flame.
"I'm sure she doesn't," Blaise consoled. "You've already got the tools, you just have to make her soften, if not melt."
Draco was late for his meeting with Hermione Granger. He swiftly rapped the heavy door before entering, the occupants glancing up dispassionately at him. The look of annoyance that fleeted on Granger's face made his lips twitch but he kept his countenance impassive as he took his seat at the head of the table.
"Apologies," he drawled, leaning back on his chair and flashing his trademark smirk.
She nodded curtly before turning her attention back to Hayden Rees, a member of his team, whom he must have interrupted with his late entrance. Draco continued his appraisal of the Muggleborn witch, tuning out the meeting. There was something about her that he just couldn't figure out. Like the previous one, the meeting ended all too soon. The room resounded with rustling papers being gathered and shuffled, of chairs being pushed, utterances of thank yous and goodbyes. In this chaos, Draco remained seated, lounging nonchalantly in his chair as he watched Granger pack up her materials.
"Here, let me help you with that, " Hayden shyly offered, gesturing to her thick files that cluttered her part of the table.
"Oh, no, no, I got it. Thank you," Granger smiled kindly at him, as she assembled them into a stack. Hayden seemed to be stunned momentarily upon seeing her smile. Draco smirked at this.
"N-No problem! So, see you next week!" Hayden stammered out and with cheeks flaming, he fled from the room. Granger looked in adorable confusion at his hasty departure. Now there were only two of them left. This was his moment. She collected her files into her arms and headed towards the door.
"Great meeting about the house elves, Granger, " he spoke, angling his body toward her.
"House elves? We were discussing centaurs today, Malfoy, " Granger responded sharply, narrowing her stormy eyes at him.
He positively sizzled under the heat of her stare. Why did she have such a profound effect on him?
"I guess you'll have to explain to me again then. How 'bout dinner?" he asked, crooking her an arch smile that he knew was irresistible to womenfolk.
"Sure. Here." She marched over to him and proceeded to deposit her heavy files into his lap from a height. His thighs smarted from the impact. "These will be your date."
She gave him a smirk that would have made a Slytherin proud, and sauntered out of the room, leaving him to ponder what he had just witnessed. Only she resisted him with such ardour. Only she radiated such fury at him. Only she had gotten the better of him and manhandled him with such force. He grinned to himself, he was determined to win her. He could hardly wait to see her again.
Tell me what you think of it please as this is my first fanfic. Well, not exactly my first anymore, since I've edited it. Thank you for your wonderful feedback!