An Insight to Draco Malfoy
Draco had a love-hate relationship with most things. As in, he loved them, or he hated them.
But she… she was different. He remained indecisive about the whole situation.
Sometimes he adored her (usually when she wasn't talking) and sometimes he loathed her (usually when she was talking).
Sometimes he felt like her father, usually when she was on their Common room floor, after some idiot let her drink an entire bottle of firewhiskey. And he would hold her hair while she repeatedly vomited, and stroke her hair while she cried about being so stupid. And he always brought her a Hangover Potion the morning after, and scolded her. Then she would kiss him with her nasty morning breath, and thank him.
He didn't feel entirely like her father in that moment.
Sometimes he would feel infinitely younger than her, like when he was sulking about an Exceeds Expectations instead of an Outstanding, or rot to that effect. And she would turn on him eyes filled with the wisdom of the ages, and remind him that there were worse things in the world. And he saw terrible beauty in her, and he trembled.
He couldn't quite bring himself to sleep with her on those nights.
Sometimes they would have silly spats about his choice of shampoo, or her habit to leave chewed quills wherever she worked. And sometimes those fights would last for ages, and he would sulk in Blaise's trundle bed, and then one day, he wouldn't remember what they had fought about. So they would make peace.
Sometimes she tried to make dinner for him, after he was tired and sick of First Year's breaking curfew on his patrol. And it would inevitably explode, because she was convinced Muggle cooking techniques and spells combined would work one day. And he would arrive home to find a sobbing Hermione, a black smoke pouring from the kitchen, and a helluva lot of happy house elves. And he would comfort her, and they would laugh together, and eat a delicious meal, courtesy of house elves. And then they would make love, and it would be marvellous, and wonderful, gloriously freeing.
Sometimes he would suspect her of cheating on him, a lowly ex-Death Eater. And she would protest, and scream. And he would reflect her tearful denials against his tightly-locked heart. As if one of the Saviours of the Wizarding World would love evil personified. And he would endure days of her absence in his life, glaring at her by day, sleeping with his arms tightly wrapped around her pillow by night. And eventually, he would realise he was the most fucked-up person in the world, and sometimes he should listen to both actions and words. And she would distrust him for a while, but one day, he looked at her, and saw Love.
He never doubted again.
A/N: From now on, this series will sometimes be a continuation of Impress Her with…, and it will sometimes be me coming up with an idea about Draco and/or Hermione. Basically, whatever the hell I feel like posting.