Chapter Two: Falling
Draco Malfoy lay awake in his chamber, deep in the Slytherin dungeons. He could not sleep. For some unknown reason, he still regretted his encounter with the Granger girl. Was she still crying, he wondered? It shouldn't bother him as much as it did. She was just another lousy Gryffindor, and a Mudblood at that. Be that as it may, he couldn't stand the fact that he had verbally abused a girl already in tears. He did have some sense of honor – maybe less rigid than others', but still, the circumstances upset him. And yet, he thought, she had already been crying when he entered the room. It hadn't been his words that caused her so much pain.
And suddenly he was wondering, what had? And why? What could have happened that it reduced the Granger girl, so overly-confident and analytical, to tears? And then the answer was obvious: Weasel. Of course. Well, he mused, regaining some of his old smirk, it was a good thing if they had broken up - their bloodtraitor Mudblood babies might have damaged the Wizarding gene pool beyond repair.
Sufficiently distracted by his usual malicious thoughts, Draco drifted to sleep. And yet, his subconscious mind could not be led astray as easy as his wakeful thoughts…
Laughing, he opened the door. Suddenly his friends had vanished, and it was just the two of them. She was crying into her arms and had not yet realized he was there. How had he not noticed how beautiful she looked when she was crying? …Beautiful? Yes, there could be no other word to describe the delicate heaving of her chest, the way the sad droplets hung to her long eyelashes, the moonlight on her golden curls… She had done something with her hair, something he had not particularly noticed, but now he realized she had tamed her usual mane into refined, lustrous cascades. Just as the thought crossed his mind to go and comfort her, she looked up.
"Draco?" She tilted her head as though surprised to see him, but his arrival did not seem to be completely unexpected. And why had she used his first name? Approaching her, he realized it did not matter. All he wanted was for her tears to go away.
"Hush, Hermione, don't cry," he murmured softly, cupping her jaw in his palm and brushing away a tear with his thumb. She smiled sadly at him, her eyes still shining but her breathing slowly steadying. He met those sparkling eyes and couldn't look away. "That Weasley scum doesn't deserve a gem as precious as you anyways." And with that, he lifted her face to meet his own.
Draco woke the next morning feeling well rested and at peace with the world. Then the dream came flooding back. "Shit," he cursed, remembering what had happened, and more disturbingly with whom. "Damn. Shit." He couldn't understand, and yet at the same time he understood all too well. "Why her? She's just a filthy Mudblood," he muttered darkly, trying to convince himself that he was not attracted to her in any way shape or form. No, he thought, none of this meant anything. All this was just because of how worked up he got last night, and how tired he was. Nothing else.
Shaking his head roughly, he got out of bed and showered quickly before dressing and running to breakfast in the Great Hall. He couldn't help but glance at the Gryffindor table; her eyes were slightly red and she sat away from Potter and Weasley. He ignored the leap of his stomach and sat down between Blaise and Pansy, but found he had no appetite.
All through double Potions that day, he waged a battle against himself. One part of him could not help but admire her skill, her confidence, her hands, so graceful and delicate, her slender waist, which rose up to a decently curvy bust… the other part of him slapped the former. This was Granger he couldn't stop thinking about. Granger. Mudblood. Gryffindor. Sworn enemy and annoying show-off.
"Dammit!" His cauldron was now spitting sparks, one of which had pelted his arm, leaving a small burn. The students were supposed to be concocting Veritaserum, and by now Draco's cauldron should have been emitting a pale blue vapor, not sparks. Snape glared at him disapprovingly as he quickly added in a few ingredients, hoping to settle the potion. It stopped spitting and instead developed a mud-like consistency, turning a violent fuchsia and bubbling sluggishly. At the end of the class he placed his flask amongst the other clear potions ashamedly, still trying to get the Granger girl out of his head. He hoped she hadn't seen his embarrassing failure.
The rest of the day was no better. He couldn't focus on anything, except perhaps the way the light reflected on her hair and the way she tapped her fingers when she was deep in thought. Once, feeling his gaze on the back of her head, she had turned around and met his eyes; she gave him a weird sort of half-smile, half-"what-the-hell, Malfoy" expression. He abruptly dropped his stare and pretended to be engrossed with the assigned reading, the faintest tinge of color rising to his cheeks.
By that evening, he could no longer deny it, even to himself. Somehow he had fallen for the Granger girl, and fallen hard.
I know Draco develops this crush insanely quickly and kind of out of nowhere, but I was too excited to get to the main premise of the story to drag this out ^.^. And we needed Draco like Hermione to get to the fun part, so here we have it. Please leave me a review, and I'll keep posting updates regularly, so follow or check back soon :).
