The lure of new books had always been too much for Hermione Granger to ignore. The library in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rarely received new books. In fact, in the almost seven years Hermione had been a student there had only been three deliveries of new books. Now that there was less than four months until graduation, Hermione found herself upset at the injustice of Madame Pince's new acquisitions.
There was one book in particular that Hermione wanted to get her hands on more than anything. The book in question was Stuart Fellweed's firsthand account of wizarding politics from around the world.
That morning Hermione made sure to be the first one up and ready to beat the other book lovers to the librarian's checkout line. She had gotten ready faster than ever and all but ran to the library. The door was open when she arrived, and Hermione quickly made her way to the correct shelf.
The book was not there.
She pushed herself away from the disappointing shelf and made her way to Madame Pince's desk, ready to confront the old woman of hoarding books.
"Excuse me, Madame Pince? Could you tell me where Politics on Parade is? I couldn't find it on the shelf." she asked, as politely as she could.
"Yes, dear, Mr. Malfoy came in this morning and checked it out. He seemed to be quite eager to be the first to read it." the librarian replied.
Hermione's face became red with indignation. That ferret-faced jerk had beat her the book that she had been waiting months to read. Hermione had never even heard Malfoy talk about politics, let alone show any interest in reading an entire book about them. Suddenly, Hermione's face set itself into a determined look. She would go to Malfoy and demand he return the book. After all, Hermione needed it to do more research on the Ministry of Magic before applying for the position as the Minister's assistant's assistant's assistant.
Madame Pince looked up at the sound of Hermione's determined 'huff' and watched the young girl's bushy head retreat back to the school.
Later that day found Hermione paired with Malfoy in charms class, which suited her need's just fine.
"I want it Malfoy. So you had better give it up." She said to him, as even as she could make her voice.
"I'm flattered Granger, but I'm afraid you're just not my type. Far too much hair." Malfoy replied with a smirk.
"The book, Malfoy, don't play dumb with me. You have never showed any interest in politics, so hand it over."
Malfoy's eyebrows rose, as did his smirk. "On the contrary, Granger, I have always been impressed with the importance of politics in the structure and continuing success of our society. In fact, I was thinking of running for Minister of Magic. Would you like to be my assistant? I'm sure that could be arranged." He replied smoothly.
"Ugh, Malfoy. You are a never ending annoyance! Why don't you grow up and face facts. No one would ever vote for you, you are horrible." She whispered angrily.
"Not even if I was wearing my 'soft, charcoal grey sweater that looks like a dream and feels just as soft'?" Malfoy said, allowing his face to smooth itself into a patronizing stare.
Hermione pushed herself back, trying to get away from the words. Her words. The very words she had written in her journal only last week. The students had been allowed to dress casually for their trip to Hogsmeade, and he had worn a particularly stunning grey sweater. It was an image that she had been unable to erase from her mind.
Professor Flitwick had called the class to end, and students began to pack their bags and make their way to their next classes. Hermione was too stunned to move.
"I thought it would sound familiar." Malfoy whispered into her ear as he bent to pick up his bag. He walked to the exit, smirking over his shoulder at her as he turned the corner.
Hermione's mind was in turmoil the rest of the day. How could he have possibly known those words? How would he have gotten access to her journal whose existence was a secret to ever her roommates? Her classes dragged the rest of the day until she was able to excuse herself to her room without raising suspicion. She crawled on the floor and reached under her bed to feel around for her journal. It was there, waiting for her as it did every night. She pulled it open and thumbed through the last few pages that had been written on. A gasp emitted from Hermione as she saw an unfamiliar green ink mixed with her vibrant fuchsia.
'Very interesting.' One line said, referring to her admittance that Lavender and Ginny often annoyed her with their incessant need to date. Another line proclaimed 'Your white sweater is quite flattering as well. Both are from McAbbott's.' Hermione almost dropped her journal. Malfoy had complimented her? For a brief moment, Hermione allowed herself to smile at the simple compliment. She rather liked her white sweater. But as soon as the smile spread, it faded.
"It has to be a trick." She said out loud.
"Be sure to avoid those, deary." said the warbly voice coming from her mirror.
"I intend to." Hermione replied.
That night Hermione had a difficult time falling asleep. She couldn't get the idea of Malfoy reading her journal out of her head. Malfoy, the single biggest pain in her entire school career had access to her journal.
'And he has Politics on Parade!' She thought angrily.
Eventually sleep overtook Hermione, but the dream that followed was enough to cause to wish that she had never fallen asleep at all.
"Granger! Get in here! These letters are not going to write themselves." a husky voice yelled to her.
"Yes, Minister." She replied.
Hermione stood up and looked down at herself and her surroundings. She was shocked to hear her words, but more shocked at the lavishly decorated office she was in. Dark wood desks, silver trimmings, and black leather chairs. The atmosphere exuded masculinity and power, and Hermione found herself surprised at the comfort she felt there. She turned from her desk, and remembered that she had seen high heels on her feet. That alone was enough to convince Hermione that she was in fact in a dream. She wobbled a bit as made her way into the office the voice had come from and was stopped by the sight in front of her.
His back was to her, clothed in an expensive looking suit that fit his figure nicely. His shoulders were broad and strong, and he had casually leaned himself against the window overlooking the city. Hermione's breath was taken away at the subtle power that exuded from the man, and stepped forward to address him.
"Yes, Minister?" she repeated.
The man turned around, and Hermione was shocked to see the face of Draco Malfoy looking back at her.