How much could Granger really love Weasley? And how was it that
Weasley had exactly what he, Draco Malfoy, desired most? It was not
acceptable. He was a Malfoy; he had a bloodline that could be traced back
for centuries. If there was something he wanted, he damn well had better
get it. After weeks of pondering, Draco had finally realized why Granger
had suddenly become the object of his attention. It wasn't that she was
pretty, surely not by his standards. True, she was brilliantly smart, but
that was not something he looked for in women. He wanted Granger because it
was something the Weasel had that he didn't. And that just wouldn't do.
Plans had begun formulating in Draco's mind, about how to approach her. She loathed him with a passion, possibly as much as he did her. But he was a Slytherin, devious and clever, catching Granger in his web would be a walk in the park. The only challenge would be to get those two leeches away from her for enough time to actually go through with his plan.
* * *
Christmastime had finally come and Draco was braced and ready for it. Granger, Weasley, and Potter were all on the list for the students staying at Hogwarts for holidays, thankfully. The trap was set and all he needed was for Granger to get herself tangled in it. She would eventually catch onto his charm and give in. He'd flaunt around with her for a week or two, and then publicly display just how easy it was to play and drop the smartest witch Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever seen.
The day the students were bustling about, saying their good- byes until the New Year, Draco had followed Hermione to the library and watched as she took a seat at one of the round tables in back, pulling sheets of parchment and a very massive book from her bulging bag. He looked on as she leaned over the papers, far to focused on the pages in front of her. So focused, in fact, that she didn't even notice Draco sidle up to the table and slide into the seat across from her until he let out a quite obvious, fake cough.
Quill flying from her hand, she gasped, and pushed her chair back as far from the edge of the table as possible.
"What do you think you are doing Malfoy," she said incredulously, one hand clutched to her chest, the other reaching for her bag.
"What?" he asked innocently. "Is this section restricted for Gryffindors only?"
"I don't know what you are trying to pull lately Malfoy, but I would appreciate if you sod off," she retaliated, not falling for his act of innocence. "Quit staring me down in class, and quit following me around."
"What's with the hostility Granger?" he asked urbanely, leaning back on his chair casually. "I would think a man's attention would be appreciated by you."
"Excuse me but I do not need your attention, thank you," Hermione replied tartly, beginning to repack her bag.
"Well, I wouldn't think you would consider Weasley's attention much of a man's," Draco smirked, knowing that would strike a nerve. "Of course you do have odd taste. I mean really, Viktor Krum?"
"Viktor was just a good friend. And you have no right at all to talk about Ron that way," she said, glaring daggers at him. "He is more of a man than you will ever be."
"And how would you know that?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious. He leaned across the table, closer to Hermione than she was comfortable with. "You don't know me, and this clearly shows I don't know you very well either. So I'll make a bet with you. Meet me here everyday after dinner for the next week and if you still think I am an absolute git, then I'll let you be. Come on Granger, prove me wrong."
For a moment, Draco thought she looked almost pensive. Until she stood up, with her bag over her shoulder and a look to kill directed straight at him.
"I don't make bets with the devil, thank you," she said harshly. Then, with a swish of her robes, she turned on her heel and exited the library, head held up defiantly.
Draco sat back down in his chair and sighed dejectedly. She was playing hard to get. Fine, he would play that game right alongside her, but eventually, he would break her. He hadn't the slightest fear.
Plans had begun formulating in Draco's mind, about how to approach her. She loathed him with a passion, possibly as much as he did her. But he was a Slytherin, devious and clever, catching Granger in his web would be a walk in the park. The only challenge would be to get those two leeches away from her for enough time to actually go through with his plan.
* * *
Christmastime had finally come and Draco was braced and ready for it. Granger, Weasley, and Potter were all on the list for the students staying at Hogwarts for holidays, thankfully. The trap was set and all he needed was for Granger to get herself tangled in it. She would eventually catch onto his charm and give in. He'd flaunt around with her for a week or two, and then publicly display just how easy it was to play and drop the smartest witch Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever seen.
The day the students were bustling about, saying their good- byes until the New Year, Draco had followed Hermione to the library and watched as she took a seat at one of the round tables in back, pulling sheets of parchment and a very massive book from her bulging bag. He looked on as she leaned over the papers, far to focused on the pages in front of her. So focused, in fact, that she didn't even notice Draco sidle up to the table and slide into the seat across from her until he let out a quite obvious, fake cough.
Quill flying from her hand, she gasped, and pushed her chair back as far from the edge of the table as possible.
"What do you think you are doing Malfoy," she said incredulously, one hand clutched to her chest, the other reaching for her bag.
"What?" he asked innocently. "Is this section restricted for Gryffindors only?"
"I don't know what you are trying to pull lately Malfoy, but I would appreciate if you sod off," she retaliated, not falling for his act of innocence. "Quit staring me down in class, and quit following me around."
"What's with the hostility Granger?" he asked urbanely, leaning back on his chair casually. "I would think a man's attention would be appreciated by you."
"Excuse me but I do not need your attention, thank you," Hermione replied tartly, beginning to repack her bag.
"Well, I wouldn't think you would consider Weasley's attention much of a man's," Draco smirked, knowing that would strike a nerve. "Of course you do have odd taste. I mean really, Viktor Krum?"
"Viktor was just a good friend. And you have no right at all to talk about Ron that way," she said, glaring daggers at him. "He is more of a man than you will ever be."
"And how would you know that?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious. He leaned across the table, closer to Hermione than she was comfortable with. "You don't know me, and this clearly shows I don't know you very well either. So I'll make a bet with you. Meet me here everyday after dinner for the next week and if you still think I am an absolute git, then I'll let you be. Come on Granger, prove me wrong."
For a moment, Draco thought she looked almost pensive. Until she stood up, with her bag over her shoulder and a look to kill directed straight at him.
"I don't make bets with the devil, thank you," she said harshly. Then, with a swish of her robes, she turned on her heel and exited the library, head held up defiantly.
Draco sat back down in his chair and sighed dejectedly. She was playing hard to get. Fine, he would play that game right alongside her, but eventually, he would break her. He hadn't the slightest fear.