Draco wanted his predictions to come out differently. At least then it would prove that the mudblood was inefficient in some way. But yet again, Granger was showing her uncanny ability to be a bloody brilliant witch. The blonde sneered in disgust. Calling Granger a witch, much less brilliant was insulting to his birthright as a pureblood.
Still, the low numbers glared back at him, guaranteeing him no success as a Death Eater. He'd tried different combinations as Granger had suggested all those weeks ago. Nothing helped him. Scratching out his latest attempt, Draco re-dipped his quill in ink and then began to work on the last possible combination. The only factor he had not tried was one they decided to include in their calculations for the students they were interviewing. It also happened to be the one factor Draco was adamant Granger was wrong about: strong personal relationships and friendships. Giving in, Draco scribbled in a measly 'one', to see if that would increase his chances at all. Thus far, all variables left him at a miserable five percent or below for rate of success.
Sitting back, Draco lazily circled the number he got and dropped his quill.
Un-bloody-fucking-believable. There, with just one strong relationship, Draco's chances of success shot up to fifty six percent. Biting his lip, he carefully folded the parchment in several half, pressing the crease each time. Stuffing it into the pocket of his robes, he shoved away from his desk and fell back onto his bed. On the ceiling of his bed small stick figures on brooms were zooming around. He'd drawn them his first year, then spelled them to move later that same year and never removed it. Plus, it helped him sleep at night. For a moment, he wondered if Granger had figured out that relationships were the biggest factors determining his success as a Death Eater. But really, what did that even mean?
Was he supposed to bond with his fellow Death Eaters? The other side? Sweet Salazar, he couldn't imagine either offering enough substance of anything to truly effect the way he conducted himself. And truly, it was only one relationship. Did that mean it was a specific person that could affect his rate of success? It was hours later sleep finally found Draco, so it was no surprise when he showed up to breakfast, face pale and lips drawn tight into an impassive expression. In one hand he held an apple, in the other a knife to stab any hands or people that got too close to him.
All around him cups were clanging, forks and knives scraping against plates, and the incessant chattering of his peers pressing on his ears. He just wanted some peace and quiet, but no. He had potions and arithmancy today which meant no early napping for him. Using his stabbing knife, Draco spread some butter on a roll, snagging a bite as his eyes lazily trailed the main hall. The Gryffindork Trio was pressed together tightly, Granger in the middle with the boys talking over her head, which was currently pressed into a book. She looked concentrated, her pale nose twitching in thought. Draco wanted to tell her to run a brush through her mane, though figured that might pull any shape from the curls and leave them an even poofier mess. He was biased sure, but not an Neanderthal when it came to proper hair care. His own hair was evidence for that. He wondered how it would feel to wrap her hair around his fist and push her to her knees where she belonged. His pink lips curled into a smirk, widening when Granger raised an eyebrow at his stare. If he could develop whatever important relationship, he needed with someone, then he would increase his chances of success as a death eater. Then, when their side won, he'd put Granger in her place, dressing her as a house elf to serve his every want and need as he rules over Malfoy Manor.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Malfoy's smirk. The arrogant blonde had been getting on her every nerve during their interviews the last week. He always spoke to her in a condescending manner as if it were him with the top grades and not her. Stabbing a potato, Hermione carefully guided it to her mouth, mindful of the book she had open in her lap.
A Guide to Extending Your Lifespan was a book mostly filled with rubbish, but she was particularly interested in the portion about relationships extending lifespan when they were meaningful. The most impactful seemed to be sibling bond, when borne of love rather than jealousy.The least impactful in extending lifespan was self-relationship, in other words, no actual friends.
Hermione had narrowed it the night before. The one thing that would improve Malfoy's chances in anything was an actual friendship or relationship. Being he was an only child, the sibling bond was unlikely unless he struck up a brotherhood with one of his peers.
"…eat that?"
"Huh?" Hermione broke from her daze to look at Ron's reddening cheeks. He pointed to the rest of the potatoes on her plate.
"Are you gonna eat that, 'Mione?" Shaking her head in fake admonishment, the curly haired girl pushed her plate to the redhead. Harry nudged her shoulder, pouting as she met his eyes.
"Why do you give that slob all your leftovers when you have me, your poor starving brother over here?"
"Because she loves me more, mate."
"No she doesn't, tell him Hermione." Smiling, Hermione ignored both of them and returned to her book.
"S'pose that means we're equal?" Harry laughed at Ron's words.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ron."
Hermione met up with Malfoy at 8pm to further work on their project. She had drawn an elaborate table and graph demonstrating the correlation between specific factors and success rates for each of the career choices. Malfoy was currently looking it over, rather meticulously, to find any minor mistake in her work. After a few minutes lapsed in silence, he gingerly put the parchment down, fingering his quill as he leaned back. Hermione watched as his eyes flitted from the parchment to her, to the table, a random stack of books, then started all over again.
"There's a factor we haven't considered here."
"Pray tell, Malfoy. What would that be?"
The blonde rolled his lip between his strangely white teeth, before setting down his quill.
"Death."
"Why would we consider that a factor?"
"You can't be successful if you're dead, Granger."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the obvious statement. She knew that, but she figured this was to measure their likelihood of success being alive.
"Is this about your failure as a Death Eater?" Malfoy tensed, his eyes turning to slits as he leaned closer.
"This has nothing to do with that. If we consider Death as a factor then it takes into account the likelihood that a particular job is dangerous and more likely to result in said person's death."
"What possible career ends in death, Malfoy?"
Hermione watched as he leaned back in his chair, listlessly throwing his fingers up with every occupation he spit out.
"Auror, dragon keeper, curse-breaker, quidditch player, Zabini's mom's newest husband—"
"Okay! I get it." Hermione loathe to admit he was right, but conceded anyway. "We can factor it in. Have you worked out the calculations for it?"
Malfoy stuck his nose in the air.
"Of course, I have. What do you take me for, a dunderhead?" He passed her his piece of parchment. Hermione looked over his scribbles, noting he hadn't integrated it into their calculations.
"So why haven't you integrated it?" Draco scowled at her condescending tone.
"I'm not going to do all the work, Granger." Surprised at the lack of derogatory terms, Hermione merely wrote down his equation on her parchment.
"I'll try to work through the principles, so it integrates without affecting the other factors. We can meet again to review it and test it. We more than likely will need to establish a percent chance of death associated with each career and use that figure some how."
Draco nodded, not wanting to tell her tried that but couldn't get it to integrate without affecting one factor or the other.
"Do it quickly Mudblood. The less time with you, the better." He flicked his wand to pack his items, having it float behind him as he left. Hermione merely made a face at the air. It seemed the rude term was back in play.