Chapter dedication: Ashley for encouraging me.
Disclaimer: Don't own any Harry Potter trademark. Own the plot, but that doesn't count much, does it?
Chapter 1: Infatuation
It had been once a few years past that she would remember looking disgustedly upon his features: his crooked nose, his gelled back platinum hair, his bony structure. He was a scrawny measly little ferret, and in some ways he still was. He was overly confidents- you could tell that much just by the way he walked. He held himself as if he was a God, as if he was the only thing that anyone should ever look at. In her opinion, he had nothing to be proud of. He was stuck up, he was immature, and he was a waste of a human specimen. He still was that way albeit that he had grown up. She didn't know when he turned from a shrimpy eleven year old to the seventeen year old man that he was now. His hair was still gelled back, and he wasn't too tall, but the way he held himself didn't change. He still believed he was better than Merlin himself, and in a way he was right.
She supposed that he very much knew the looks he got as he swept down the hall to go about his business. How could he not? She swore that she had never seen a girl more obvious as a little Hufflepuff girl that stalked behind him, calling his name out and handing him flowers daily. What a shallow little brat. Malfoy didn't mind the attention though. He never did and he never would. He was the most egotistical, self-centered, pompous, cocky, arrogant, stupefying, impressive, breathtaking, magnificent man that she had ever seen in her life which is why she slowly began to lust for his presence, watch for his face, listen for his voice, and dream about his touch. She was slowly beginning to go insane from the heart beating in her own chest.
He was intelligent. She didn't believe he was. From what she remembered in her fifth year, he seemed almost scared when he opened his OWL results. 'What a hopeless idiot. He does nothing and everything gets handed to him on a platter encrusted with diamonds.' she had thought. He was just like his father! He would be nothing more than the follower of a hypocrite, but over time she saw his interest of Dark Arts decrease and his love for books come to be surpassed only by her own. It was either that or he was a very good actor. Her suspicions were confirmed as she saw the shock on her friends' faces when they learned that Harry would not be Head Boy on the other side of Hermione. It was Draco who would become the students' leader.
She hated him so much! He was an arse in every way, shape, and form. He blew off concerns and questions that were addressed to him. His duties were left neglected until the very last second unless Hermione wanted to do them for him (which she refused adamantly though ended up caving in). He set the worst example possible to the students. Better yet, he made Hermione believe that Dumbledore was becoming senile because of his choice of Head Boy in such a pivotal time of the war! And worst of all, he was NOT above childish name calling including the terms "Mudblood" and "Weasel". Yet, even with her head reminding her of all of these things and more, her hormones craved for him now worse than ever.
Hermione sighed, leaning back in her chair. She rubbed her neck and rolled it around a bit before hunching back over her parchment and book. She looked through the Runes book and read through the same paragraph for the third time. She just couldn't concentrate. That combined with sleep deprivation finally got to her. With a nod of the head, she stood up and went to the third row on the East side of the library to put the book away. Her hand ran across the spines of the books, breathing in the scent of them. It always calmed her. She found the empty slot quickly and stood on her toes to put it up. She slid it into the place and walked back to her table. She shoved her parchment, quill, and ink back into her bag and strode out the abandoned library, smiling at Madam Pince.
"Leaving before the librarian kicks you out, Granger? I'll faint from my astonishment any second now." She didn't have to turn to recognize the voice. It was seductive without meaning to be (or maybe he did mean it to be). It was as smooth as silk even when his tone was so harshly directed towards her.
Hermione yawned and continued walking. This didn't phase her. After years of his torture, she had learned to appear with a calm demeanor. She didn't even glance at him, trying to give him the impression that his words were nothing more than childish babble. She would never let him know that with each sharp remark, her heart broke. She'd never let him know that he made her cry almost every night.
"Aww, Granger, I like you better with your bite. But what can I expect from a Mudblood other than it walking away from its problems?" Draco sneered as he smirked. He followed her but didn't slam into her when she stopped. She did what was expected. She whirled around to face him with her wand out. There was no Harry or Ron to help her in these frequent encounters.
"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, but what could you possibly be talking to a Mudblood like myself for? Is your life just so pathetic that your only means of entertainment is following me like some lost puppy who is looking for a little attention?" Her wand still on guard, she didn't wait for his response before turning back around and continuing her wand. Her eyes were alit with fire, her heart thumping in her chest. What she didn't count on was Malfoy grabbing her wrist and slamming her into the wall.
"I'm not the one with a pathetic life, you filthy creature. I have status, money, and a future ahead of myself. You're just a beast who will soon learn their lesson when the ministry decided to wizen up and kick you out of the wizarding world. You're no witch. Why are you even here?" She tried to grab for her wand but his body was straddling hers. He was too close for her to knee him. She whimpered, showing her emotion in not knowing what to do.
"Let me go." She screamed, chancing a glance into his eyes. They were the same as always- stony and cold. His eyes narrowed at her, his jaw seemed to tighten.
She felt her arms starting to bruise. She leant into the wall further, hoping to be able to wiggle to get out of the uncomfortable position to grab for her wand. She had no luck when he advanced on her even more. He tilted her head up and made her look into his eyes. They were narrowed even more, "Answer me, Mudblood."
"She doesn't have to do anything, Malfoy." She was in a daze, liking the closeness of Draco's body to hers but feeling threatened because of it all at the same time. She heard the voice distantly, and it sounded oddly comforting. She jumped out of her daze when she felt Malfoy being pulled off her.
She looked to see Harry have thrown Malfoy across the hall, his wand out and cursing Malfoy before she could do anything. Malfoy quickly got his wand out and shielded it. It bounced off and hit the wall, making a clear indentation in the wall. Malfoy threw a spell at the same time that Harry did. They both exploded when they met in a light of violet and blue. Harry was about to throw another spell when Hermione came between them. She glared at Malfoy before dragging Harry into another corridor.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" He asked her. He took her hand and noticed the blue that was starting to appear on her wrists, "That bastard. I'll kill him."
"And then you wouldn't be any better than him." Hermione responded, leaning into the embrace that Harry created when she spoke. In truth, she'd love and hate to see him dead at the same time. All she knew at the time though was that death was not an option. Harry would get into trouble even if he was destined to save the world from Voldemort.
"He's a fucking bastard." Harry muttered into her hair. She nodded slightly, "Spend the night in the tower tonight at least." He begged.
She nodded her head to agree to the suggestion. He'd asked her many times before to request to live in the tower instead of sharing quarters with the boy ferret. She'd refused for more reasons than one. Even without her infatuation with the blond boy, Dumbledore and McGonagall expected her to set an example. That was not going to be running away from her problems.
"Let's go to the tower. Ron'll be worried if I'm gone for too long." He let her go but refused to let go of her hand.
'If only, if only I felt about Harry like I do about Draco.' She thought to herself, staring into his green eyes before continuing her walk.
A/N: There it is. Review.