Draco's eyes followed Hermione Granger as she walked across the Great Hall to sit with her friends. Then he caught himself. What in the world are you doing? He thought furiously. Granger is a filthy Mudblood. Never forget that. He squeezed his eyes shut, then snapped them open again as Pansy Parkinson leaned across the table to simper at him. You disgust me. He thought, even as he flirted with her. I have no interest in you, but you look good when you're with me. That's the only reason you want me. That's the only reason any girl will ever want me. Draco's eyes drifted back towards Hermione. She would never have him, would never even consider him. And that's part of what made her so tempting. No, that had to be the entire reason. How could Draco Malfoy be honestly attracted to someone like Hermione Granger? Her hair was a mass of copper coils flecked with gold, and it could not be contained. She was such a know it all, so good, so pure. Perhaps that was why she called to him. Hermione had an air of purity just waiting to be tainted. And Draco would most certainly be the one to accomplish the task. He would settle for no less.
Hermione glanced at the slip of parchment in her hands and looked at the titles of the books on the shelf in front of her. She found the tome she was looking for and settled herself in a large, overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. There was nothing Hermione Granger liked better than spending a peaceful afternoon with a book larger than her head. "Hello, Granger."
Hermione glanced up, then sat straight up in her chair as she realized who had spoken to her. "Malfoy," she replied, her voice low and laced with malice. She really, really didn't like Malfoy. She especially didn't like the way her stomach flipped whenever she spotted his white-blonde hair, the way she felt flushed whenever he brushed her as he passed, and just then, the way his saying her name had made her feel. He hates you, she told herself sternly. You're nothing but a heinous Mudblood to him, remember? However, no matter how many times Hermione told herself this, it didn't change the way she felt. She really hated herself sometimes. What would Harry and Ron think? Especially Ron...
Draco dropped himself into the chair opposite Hermione. "Relax. I'm not here to insult you," he informed her. Draco reached over a tugged Hermione's book out of her hands. "You really are a nerd, aren't you Granger? This book is bigger than your head. Which is really saying something, since you've got all that hair to add to the circumference."
Hermione grabbed the book back, blushing furiously. "I thought you said you weren't here to insult me."
Draco studied her for a moment, then nodded. "You're right, I'm not." He stood and then leaned over Hermione's chair, bringing his face right up to hers. "I'm here for this," he said, right before he smashed his lips over hers.