Feet dangling over the edge of her armchair, Hermione found herself fully engrossed in the tome laid open on her lap. Theo was there, sitting at her feet with his nose pressed between the pages of his own book.
"Hey," he muttered over his shoulder, lifting his book high. "What's this rune?"
She hummed, tearing her gaze away and quickly scanning the page. "Daggaz and Munnuz. Probably means—" she paused, her face scrunching to one side as she thought, "prosperity through change."
"Have I mentioned I hate Ancient Runes?"
"Yes. Sugar Quill, please." Absently, Theo stuck his hand in her bag and procured two sweets, offering her one and quickly unwrapping his own. "Ack! Give me yours, I hate blue."
Theo's gaze snapped over his shoulder, his brow wrinkled in annoyance. "Then why did you buy blue?"
"Shut up and give me yours," she deadpanned, ignoring the shameful blush coming to life on her cheeks. Truth was, she did hate that flavor, but it seemed that Draco Malfoy got surprisingly more annoying when he was peckish and it was always best to have something around to remedy the issue. Somewhere around the beginning of the year, she noticed his proclivity for the disgusting blue sweets and so, begrudgingly, she stocked up whenever she made a run to Honeydukes.
They quickly traded and Hermione popped the purple lolly between her lips, sucking softly as she continued reading, completely unaware of the figure lurking in the stacks nearby. That is until he abruptly cleared his throat and stepped from the shadows, causing Hermione to shriek and drop her sweet in the crease of her book.
Grimacing as the paper stuck to its paper, her narrowed glare shot up to the offender. Of course, it was Malfoy.
"You ruined my book!"
Rolling his eyes, he stepped further into the clearing, adjusting the strap of his bag and dutifully ignoring Theo at her feet. "Sure, I did. I need to talk to you."
"Is something wrong?" Hermione closed the cover of her book, sandwiching her destroyed Sugar Quill in its spine.
With a long, exaggerated sigh, Malfoy ran his hand down his face. "Granger, when will you learn that I don't just wander this castle looking for excuses to talk to you? If I come looking for you, it's probably because there is something important to discuss."
On his very best day, Draco Malfoy was an irritable git; this, however, was a new level of prat. Last night he'd been almost pleasant and something awful must have happened in the past twelve hours to earn her this kind of greeting.
Under her, Theo made a soft puckering noise as he popped his blue quill between his lips, a smirk playing on his mouth as he stared up at Malfoy. "Afternoon, mate."
Lip curling, Draco deigned a narrowed glance down at him. "I'm not your mate, you fucking—"
"Malfoy!" Hermione jumped to her feet, sidestepping Theo who was cackling from his place on the ground. "I'll be right back, Theo." Snatching the Head Boy's elbow, she quickly dragged him away and into the stacks.
"Hurry back, love!"
Blushing she pushed Draco between the aisles and huffed out an indignant breath. "What on earth is wrong with you?"
"Wrong with me? That's rich, Granger. Truly."
"Did I do something? I actually thought we'd gotten along last night and now you're being—"
"You didn't do anything. Just—" Draco groaned, his features pinching tightly. "Never mind."
"You're acting like I did something and I've already told you if you wanted to call off the bet, you only need say so."
He began pacing, his cheeks darkening as he clenched his jaw tight. "No."
"Well, was there something you needed to tell me? Other than showing up to insult my boyfr—"
"Stop calling him that!" His voice edged to a decibel that Hermione was very quickly on the verge of admonishing him for, but she didn't get the chance. He growled and stormed off, muttering something intelligible as he disappeared.
With an ache in her belly and a sag to her shoulders, Hermione returned to the nook where Theo was waiting for her.
"How is Hogwart's resident prat doing today?" Theo mused, eyes never leaving his book.
Hermione didn't answer at first, instead falling into her spot with a soft huff. "Why don't you like him?" she asked after a long moment.
Shrugging, Theo crunched through the tip of his Sugar Quill. "What's to like? He's always walked around like this place like he owned it; only showing interest in someone when it serves him to do so. I could forgive him for the mess with the war… I know better than most what it's like to have a jackarse for a father." Theo paused, turning in his spot to look up at her in earnest. "But, just because I don't like him, doesn't mean you can't. I'll still help you."
Hermione bristled. "And why do you keep getting this impression that I like Malfoy?"
"Don't you?" His brow arched in an almost condescending way.
Gnawing on her lip, Hermione considered the too-simple question.
She couldn't like Draco Malfoy, he was all the things Theo had just said and so much more. He was frustrating and incorrigible and—no, she couldn't like him.
She couldn't.
xXx
Everything was getting far too confusing. The silly witch was stealing the rational thought from his brain.
Merlin, he hadn't even discussed the issue with the fifth years dropping like flies to the Black Cat Flu, like he'd intended. He'd let that sodding prick get the best of him and no one bested Draco Malfoy. No one.
What was perhaps even more frustrating was that Granger seemed to like the arsehole. As it were, Draco had noticed over the months that she'd taken a habit of always having blue sugar quills in her bag, even though he was quite positive she hated them. So during their Head meetings, whenever she'd pull one out for herself, she'd silently offer him one as well. Always blue—his favourite.
And then, there Theo-bleeding-Nott had been, sucking on his Sugar Quill. The edges of his vision turned red and he stormed down the hall, beelining for the Dungeons and the Hufflepuff common room.
xXx
So, after some consideration, it seemed she liked Draco Malfoy.
It had been a painstaking process of coming to terms with such a ridiculous notion but now that she'd decided on it, she had to go off and bloody do something about it.
As with all her endeavors, she first formulated a plan.
The first step would be to call off this ridiculous bet and explain that her and Theo were not actually romantically involved.
The second, and most terrifying, would be to ask Malfoy to attend the Yule Ball as her escort. Every time she thought of it, bile roiled in her stomach and her vision waned.
Marching down the stairs to the dungeon with her head held high, she rehearsed her speech again and again and again. A part of her knew that he had to have felt it too; there'd been something about him these past few days that reassured her that whatever she was feeling, she wasn't alone.
Anxiety transformed into excitement as she considered the possibilities of them. It'd be easy to say they were polar opposites, but Hermione knew that wasn't true. If she were being honest, they often came to blows because of how dreadfully similar they were. Stubborn and steadfast, too clever for their own good.
Rounding the corner and biting down on a smile that threatened to split her lips, she froze mid-step, her heart plummeting to the depths of her stomach.
There was a bench outside the Potions classroom, a bench she'd sat on and stewed over the complete unfairness of Professor Snape in years past, but now it was occupied.
Occupied by a certain blond wizard and his busty Hufflepuff perched precariously on his knee. Their limbs were tangled, surrounded by a few classmates and noticeably, Blaise Zabini.
On any given day she might not pause, but today she did, and she especially noticed the way his hand rested on Bea's hip. Hermione felt it like a punch to her gut and she gasped, the sound reverberating down the stone hall. Fat tears welled in the corner of her eyes and she quickly turned on her heel, darting back the way she'd come.
She'd almost been free; almost far enough away that she could slink into an alcove and cry her little broken teenage heart out when she heard the footsteps.
"Granger!" His voice carried the telltale signs of his anger and although she felt wholly gutted, she reeled on him, eyes dancing with misplaced rage.
"What!"
He cocked back, perhaps shocked at her tone, but she didn't give a shite. Who was he to go around making girls think he liked them and then snogging little twits like Bea-bloody-Beaucomb? It was detestable. Deplorable, even.
He withered, a snort rumbling from his nasal passages. "Did you forget to rotate that broomstick you've got shoved up your arse? What's the problem?"
"You are my problem, Malfoy." She marched towards him, shoving her pointer finger into his sternum. "You are always my problem! For eight bloody years, you've been my problem!" Tears began flowing freely over her cheeks and she banished them with the back of her hand in a vain attempt to maintain her dignity.
"Brilliant! Always me, right? How bloody typical of you—" Snarling, he walked up to the wall and fell against it, an arrogant turn of his mouth as he waited for her to come back at him. He didn't have to wait long.
"You are the most infuriating person I've ever met. Did you know that?"
He shrugged, examining his nail beds as if tiny diamonds lay embedded in his cuticles.
Growling, she continued. "And you're disgusting! Snogging Bea Beaucomb like that! And in public!"
His graphite glare shot up to her and he stared at her with no trace of amusement. "First, I didn't bloody snog her and second, this from the girl trading saliva with Theo Nott at the Three Broomsticks."
"Th-that's different!" Her vision twinged crimson and against her volition she was crossing the space towards him, ready to poke him in the chest again. "You were—"
So suddenly she hadn't a chance to make right of it, she was twirled, back hard against the cold stone wall. Malfoy's hands rested near the sides of her head as he loomed over her. She inhaled so sharply that the world seemed to glitch, turning hazy at his sudden proximity.
"Do you have something you came down here to say? Cause if you do, I'd speak it plainly."
She couldn't make sense of the energy in the moment, it was desperate and vengeful and full of anger or something just like it. With each passing moment, her eyes flitted across his face before finally landing on his lips and the way they hovered just inches from hers.
Merlin, she wanted to taste him—need to confirm that his lips would have traces of spearmint and blue Sugar Quills. She wanted to wrap herself around him and snog him until they were breathless but—but—
"Oi! Malfoy!" A familiar voice echoed down the hall and too soon, Malfoy left her space, leaving her panting and flushed in his wake. Zabini appeared, eyeing the situation with little interest before nodding to his classmate. "You coming?"
Malfoy turned towards her, brows arched high and he waited for two heartbeats before he turned back towards the Slytherin dormitory. "See you around, Granger."
Disappointment and longing mixed dangerously in her belly and with all the remaining strength left in her weary bones, she climbed the stairs back towards Gryffindor Tower.
xXx
A/N: I know, I know. It's all horribly cliche and tropey and overdone lol but I've been writing some darker stuff lately and needed to visit some teenage angst.
This is unbeta'd and I'm shit at self-editing so please excuse the errors. It was looked over by my sweet MCal and I'm grateful forever for your time!
I hope you enjoyed it! I believe this will be 6 chapters!
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