Requested by an anonymous tumblr used. Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger. 4. Mistaken for a Couple. 16. Mutual Pining. No Voldemort AU. Head Boy, Head Girl.
The first time it happened, it was Theo during a weekly meeting. Well, it was after actually, and Hermione was gathering loose pieces of parchment. Most of the prefects have already filed out, save for Parkinson and Theo.
All Hermione wanted to do was escape back to her dorm, and not set foot in the shared common space until morning when they can part ways again.
"What do you mean?" Theo asked, his hip bumping the work table Hermione stood at. "You patrolled Hogsmeade with Granger last weekend."
Hermione froze, suddenly interested in the conversation. It was true, they had patrolled together last weekend despite an agreement forged early in the year where they could work it out to be one weekend a month for them. But she'd come to a prefect meeting to learn that all of her Hogsmeade weekends were being used by Malfoy.
It was odd.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were dating her." Theo said
All of the air was sucked out of the room. Hermione slammed the book down, and reached for her bag as she moved for a hasty escape.
Parkinson's laugh was a cackle. "Are you joking? Draco would never date a mudblood."
The slur made her move a bit faster, though all she wanted to do was hex Parkinson, but that was unacceptable for the Head Girl.
"Detention, tomorrow with Filch," Draco drawled, catching Hermione's eye as she left the room. "You know better than to use slurs, Pansy. And—Granger and I? You should know me better."
As she made her way down the corridor, Hermione wasn't sure if it was his haughty tone, or the laughter that followed her that hurt her more.
She didn't stop to think of why it hurt her either.
During a game of spin the butterbeer, at a party that was certainly against school rules, Hermione was forced to come to terms with something she'd been denying for weeks.
"Do you have a crush?" Ginny asked, meaning it to be a mild question.
She didn't expect Hermione to blurt out yes under the effects of Veritaserum laced in the drink.
Hermione didn't expect for it to be true.
With a last look at Ron, who's face had grown red, and he opened his mouth to ask who it was, Hermione ran out of Gryffindor Tower.
No one in her house could keep a secret, especially not one like this. If it got out—she'd be subject to ridicule. Perhaps, she's dealt with that in younger years, but she just wanted to enjoy the rest of her seventh year.
Rounding a corner, she slammed into someone's chest.
Don't look down.
Don't look up.
"Granger?" Malfoy's voice is soft, and she embarrassingly hid her face even further, only she nuzzled his chest by mistake and wished the castle would swallow her whole. "Are you drunk?"
She was, even though it was terribly wrong and led her into an equally awkward moment as the one she'd just left. "Are you going to take me to Professor Dumbledore?"
His chest shook as he chuckled. "No. Let's get you back to the common room. I have a Sober Up Potion you can take."
Malfoy slipped an arm around her waist, holding the most of her weight while half carrying her to their common room.
It was bad luck there were several of his friends who witnessed them.
It was even worse that when he settled for picking her up to carry her, she'd nuzzled his neck.
By the time most of Hogwarts assumed that she had either been drunk and clingy—which was the unfortunate truth—or that she and Malfoy had been secretly dating for months.
Why else would they patrol every weekend together instead of spending time with their friends?
She didn't know his perspective on it, but she happened to enjoy the time spent patrolling with him. That was part of the problem.
Students speculated as to whether she'd lost her virginity yet—they did share a common room. Did Hermione Granger even sleep in her own bed or did she crawl into Malfoy's?
It was enough to make her mental.
Having an unrequited—because it would never go both ways—on someone you weren't meant to—he had been a tremendous prick to her as children—while everyone spoke as if you were—Merlin, I'm so jealous—was enough to rip your heart in two.
Her quill snapped in her hand.
"Granger?" It was him again.
Of course it was. It was always bloody him.
Fuck—
She'd said that out loud.
Hermione cleared her throat. "What is it?"
His hip bumped her work table. "Hogsmeade this weekend?"
Her nose crinkled and her lips parted. Surely he was joking. "I'm not sure that's the best idea for you when everyone is convinced we're off snogging—or shagging—in an alley while patrolling. Take someone else."
"Wait!" He called out as she rose from her seat. "They're already making assumptions." Malfoy murmured. "We could… We could give them something to talk about. I put Pansy and Theo on patrols. So, you and I…"
She almost dropped her books. "We could give them something to talk about." Hermione repeated, her tongue sliding against her lips.
The motion didn't go unnoticed.
He nodded. "Yes, exactly."
Hermione remained silent.
"Is this a joke?" She whispered. "Malfoy, I'm not interested in being the punchline—"
He kissed her without warning, tangling his fingers into her curls while slanting his mouth against hers.
Somewhere in the stacks of the library, there was a shriek.
Her fingers raising to her bruised lips, Hermione nodded. "Right. Hogsmeade." She agreed.
He led her all the way to their common room with his fingers threaded through hers, both of them sniggering at the gobsmacked look on Ron's face as they passed him.