I Don't Know You
Shallow
(A/N: Sorry, this one is extremely short. Like I said, inconsistent lengths.)
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He climbed down the ladder of the bunk and got dressed.
At breakfast he headed directly towards the Slytherin table on the left, plunking down beside his usual cronies. Crabbe, Goyle, Zambini, Pansy…
"Hey, Draco," she cooed, a little overly-alluring, batting her eyelashes suggestively.
"Hello, Pansy," he kissed her on the cheek, pretending not to notice his friends giggling, clearly embarrassed at this public display of affection.
Pansy was a good girlfriend, as far as Draco was concerned. She was hot, most guys at school would agree. Sure, her clothes tended to be a bit…revealing for Hogwarts standard. (She had been placed in detention many times, but refused to change, so the professors had given up.)
But not like that was a problem anyway. He wasn't one of those guys who gets angry every time he sees another guy stare at his girlfriend. He takes it as a compliment.
Breakfast passed without any interesting events taking place. Draco did, however, catch a few glimpses of Hermione giggling at the sight of Ron sticking cheerios up his nose. The oaf.
Potions first. His favorite.
Snape addressed the class:
"Today we are going to attempt the draught of eternal illness. It is a very complicated potion containing over 34 different ingredients that must be added at the precise-"
Draco's mind wandered over to Hermione scribbling on her parchment furiously. It looked as though she was going to drill a hole right through it. He snorted in amusement.
Hermione glared at him, and violently continued taking notes.
Still hates me…
After class he decided to lurk back a bit. He had plenty of time to get to his next lesson and had been assigned no homework, as usual. Of course Snape had left the Gryffindors mountains of it.
"Have fun doing your homework, Granger…" he smirked.
"It's not my fault you're teacher's pet, Malfoy," she retorted, not bothering to look at him. "You know as well as I Snape is prejudiced against us three."
He did know. Perhaps better than any. But that didn't stop him.
"Hah! Don't be a hypocrite. Stop acting like you're not the perfect little student in every other class."
The room was empty except for the two of them.
"The only reason he hates me is because… Because I'm…"
"A mudblood," he snickered, well aware that this was really true.
"Well, yes. And that's the only reason you hate me as well-"
"For your information, Granger, I have plenty of other reasons for hating you. I have grounds, mind you."
The lie burned behind his eyes, causing him to sweat just a little. He hoped to the world that it didn't show.
She took a daring step towards him, brushing her hair out of her face.
"And what grounds would those be?"
There was a long silence between them, as her eyes bored into his, challenging him to answer the question.
Why is she so damn confident?
"I knew it," she said simply, turning away, "as shallow as ever."
"I am not-" but she had already left the room, her black robes trailing behind her. Still, he couldn't help but notice that she didn't seem entirely convinced.
He packed his bag and left for his next class. Defense Against the Dark Arts. On the way, his mind mulled over what had just happened.
As much as he didn't like to admit, she had offended him. I am not shallow…or, at least, not anymore. He was well aware he used to be an asshole, but was it his fault that he was forced to keep up this reputation? He found it hard to believe that Hermione couldn't see right through his act.
(A/N: Don't worry, I'm going somewhere with this. I'm already done with eight chapters! Next one up soon.)