Disclaimer: The good stuff is JKR's. The shit is mine.
A/N: I apologize for not updating sooner…I had two shows, Thespian conference, auditions for Stetson, NYU, and Elon… so February was…hell. Fun…but hell. Now that I've gotten off my lazy arse and updated…maybe ya'll will like me. One can only hope. It's 3 o'clock in the morning…please forgive typos, spelling and grammar errors, and other things that this Daisy has written incorrectly as her mind is far, far away…
Different Isn't Necessarily Bad
Chapter 3
On the morning of Halloween, Ron, Harry, Dean, and Seamus entered the Gryffindor Common Room wrapped up in their scarlet scarves.
"You sure you're not coming, Hermione?" asked Dean.
"Yes, I'm quite sure. You four have fun, alright?"
Hesitantly, Harry replied, "Alright, Hermione."
With that, the four boys were off again, off to Hogsmeade for the day. Although she was tempted to come along, she knew she needed to remain at school. There was so much work to be done! She wanted so desperately to be Head Girl next year, that her studies were now-more than ever- her top priority and a serious concern of hers. When a group of rowdy first years began playing a game of Exploding Snap, Hermione sighed and gathered her things to head for her dormitory. As she entered her room, she saw a dark brown owl tapping at her window. Sighing, she set down her books and stacked them neatly on her bed- temporarily, of course. She took the letter from the owl's outstretched leg and it retreated without a backward glance.
Miss Granger,
Please report to my office at 11:00 A.M. today.
Hermione inhaled sharply. What had she done?
I apologize for scheduling this meeting so last-minute,
but I have some matters to discuss with the Prefects.
Sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore
Hermione exhaled in relief. She had no doubt in her mind that the Yule Ball would be the topic of the discussion. The success of the celebration during her fourth year was so tremendous, that this year would be the third year in a row that Hogwarts hosted an annual Yule Ball. Viktor Krum, the world-famous Bulgarian Seeker and Tri-Wizard Champion for the Durmstrang Institute, had escorted Hermione to the Ball two years ago. He had since graduated, and Hermione was placed in an awkward position when Colin Creevey had approached her last year and asked her to be his date. Having more heart than brain in that situation, Hermione could not decline. She was subjected to an evening of injuries. Colin, now nicknamed "Club-foot" by Harry and Ron, had caused Hermione more pain to her ego than to her feet. Pansy Parkinson, escorted by the always-hateful Draco Malfoy, had found it very amusing to point out Hermione's "status in the school" and continued to tease her about her appeal to the opposite sex. Harry and Ron's popularity had both increased as they grew into more attractive, young men, constantly capturing the attention of the girls in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, while Hermione had not managed to have one romantic interest since Viktor Krum. Pansy and her gang of Slytherin girls had found it quite comical to remind Hermione of this and the way neither Harry nor Ron had seemed to pay her much mind romantically. She ignored this, however, she was still subjected to Madame Pomfrey's quizzical looks when she uncovered her several broken toes, which were harder to ignore or explain.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Another Yule Ball. I figured the old coot would be tired of hearing The Weird Sisters two years in a row. And we have to plan it? Bollocks. Wait 'till my father hears about this!" Draco complained in his usual whine as the Prefects left Dumbledore's office.
"It's our duty as Prefects, Malfoy." Hermione rolled her eyes. Clearly, Malfoy wanted to be a Prefect, yet he did not want to have to deal with any of the responsibilities. How typical.
"Shutup, Granger. Who cares if it's our duty?" Draco ran his hand through his slick, white-blond hair.
"Sod-off, Draco."
"What?"
"I said, sod-off."
"No." Draco stopped walking.
"No?" Hermione gave Draco a threatening glare. He responded with his usual smirk.
"So it's true then." Draco gave Hermione the once over. Hermione was offended immediately.
"What's true, Malfoy?"
"So it's back to Malfoy, eh?" Draco folded his arms across his chest.
"What's true, Draco?" Hermione asked between gritted teeth.
"That the Mudblood who despises me doesn't actually despise me at all. How very touching." Draco smirked again, causing Hermione to roll her eyes after contemplating whether or not to hit him in the face. Choosing the latter, she spoke, folding her own arms across her chest.
"No, Draco." It felt very odd when she used his first name. "I just feel that since you and I are both Prefects, that it would be much easier if we used our first names with each other, and refrained from so much hostility."
"Granger, you fancy me." Hermione blinked several times.
"What?" Draco smirked again. "I do NOT fancy you in any way, shape or form, Draco Malfoy! That is what you have Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson for!"
Draco scowled.
"That PUG?!?" Hermione's lips curved into a smile.
"Oh, Draco, you shouldn't be talking about your beautiful girlfriend that way. What would she say?" Hermione said innocently. Draco glared at her, his eyes becoming daggers.
"HER?!?! My GIRLFRIEND? I would rather kiss YOU than to-" He broke off, realizing what he had implied. Hermione smirked in response. His smirk. It was amazing how she had turned the tide so quickly. Draco thought of her in a new way all of a sudden. Hermione had won. Then, unfortunately for her, he smiled. A real smile. When she saw this, she realized two things: one, she had never seen Draco Malfoy really smile; and two, her stomach was flipping. She couldn't help but return the smile. She heard her brain cursing her and telling her who he really was, and she was snapped back to reality.
"Imagine that." She spoke coldly. "You, a Malfoy, kissing a MUDBLOOD. What a joke!" She grimaced and turned on her heel. There was no way she was going to let Malfoy trick her into fancying him, just to embarrass her later on. She left Malfoy in the corridor, stunned, angry, and above all, confused. Confused about the Gryffindor Prefect storming off, who suddenly looked beautiful and unattainable to him. Those two things were quite inappropriate for a Malfoy to think. He scowled. Unattainable? He knew of no such thing. He would have her, he decided, and nothing was going to get this Malfoy's way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Draco rolled over for the thousandth time in his four-poster bed. He just could not sleep, no matter how hard he tried. His head was filled with thoughts of Hermione. Her hair that was comprised of soft curls, her curvaceous figure, her lips that we beckoning him…
SSSSSSSCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEECCCCHHH!
PULL THAT BROOMSTICK TO A HAULT BEFORE YOU POKE SOMEONE'S EYE OUT!
Curvaceous? Beckoning? What has gotten into me?? This is that…that…Mudblood!
He was ashamed. He was longing for her. He tried to shake the idea of her belonging to him out of his head. He slipped out of his bed and grabbed his wand off of his bedside table.
"Accio green boxers!" He said impatiently. His drawer flew open and his boxer shorts flew over to him. He slipped them on and ran his hand through his disheveled hair, causing it to stick up even more. He yawned, stretched, and continued across his room. Glancing at his clock on the wall, he groaned. It was nearly four in the morning. He opened the door to the Prefect Common Room, hoping to get some Transfiguration homework done. He, of course, needed to keep up with his studies if he wanted to be Head Boy next year. His father would be very disappointed if he was not given that particular honour. When he walked in, he was taken by surprise. Hermione, lying on the couch by the fire, was awake and reading a book. Not that that was surprising, it was more surprising of what she was wearing. Or not wearing. Cocking his head to one side, he looked her over. She was wearing a small T-shirt and shorts. Muggle clothing, of course.
"Nice shorts, Draco." Hermione grinned, knowing she had caught Malfoy staring at her legs.
Draco suddenly realized how naked he must have seemed, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and socks, and flushed pink. Hermione was taken aback. She had never see Malfoy blush before.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you blushing?" Hermione said coolly. Draco smiled at her, looked down at himself, and said smoothly, "accio, robe" and his robe appeared a few seconds later in his hands.
"What are you doing up so early in the morning?" Draco asked, stifling a yawn. Hermione moved to her right so that he could sit down next to her.
"I couldn't sleep." She said, yawning as well.
"Me neither." There was an awkward pause between them and Draco finally spoke.
"Granger, do you want to be Head Girl next year?"
"It would be an honour. I hope I have the grades for it. I don't know if-" Draco cut her off.
"Shutup, Hermione. You know you have the top grades in the school. My father reminds me constantly. Of course you're going to be Head Girl." Draco shook his head at her ignorance.
"What did you call me?" Hermione asked slowly. Draco shook his head in confusion.
"I don't know, what?" Draco sneered.
"You called me, Hermione, Draco."
Draco responded coldly. "So? What if I did? I'm not going to want to start sitting next to you in Potions or anything. Not that it matters anyway. Mudblood."
"Fine, Draco. Have it your way. If you want to continue this little charade, that is fine by me. I only suggest to you that stay out of this Mudblood's way if you want to make it to your seventh year. One can only hope that you do not. Goodnight Dragon." Hermione stared fiercely into Draco's icy gray eyes. She turned, flipping her hair, hitting him in the eye as she did, and stalked off to her room. Her door slammed shut a moment later. Draco just stood there for a moment, doing nothing except thinking. He turned to his own room, muttering to himself, "Idiot Granger."
He could have sworn to Merlin that he heard a whimper come from Hermione's room, but he disregarded it immediately and slammed his own door.
