AN: I want to give a huge thanks to my reviewers and followers! It really means the world to feel so encouraged to keep doing what I love doing. It may be a strange story but the words are a part of me and it's a hell of a lot of fun to write so I'll never stop. Thank you all for the love and good vibes. Life's a garden, dig it.

She's A Work of Art
Chapter Two

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Hogwarts Castle, 7th Floor, September 1st, 1997

Hermione sat in her Head Girl chambers in Gryffindor Tower rereading Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean, one of the main Herbology textbooks. It was an informative tome she enjoyed perusing many times before yet right then she could not for the life of her register the words in front of her. Yes, her physical body may have left but her mind was still very much back in the South Suite, caught up in the odd events that took place during the Prefect's meeting.

It had all started when Draco Malfoy appeared, having slammed open the sliding door to the cabin and giving her a slight fright. The disruption had been somewhat vexing in itself but what was incredibly more maddening was when his eyes widened right away with his irises shrinking to pins, and his mouth fell open as he stood there like he was paralyzed by the sight of her. She felt a bit worried, thinking maybe he'd been cursed or hexed. She'd called out his name and watched as he doubled backwards, only then seeming to realize who she was. He stumbled over his words, unable to form a sentence until he gained his composure. Hermione had studied his every move but tried not to let on she was that perceptive.

As she looked through the papers and then handed him his own stack, Draco had practically drank in the image of her like she was a tall glass of water and he'd never been so thirsty. He was trying so very hard to hide it at the time but Hermione was certain she could feel the crackle of electric sexual tension in the air and she couldn't fucking believe it.

Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin and vile git that he was… well ahem, the usually very vile git that he was, was uh, not really like that anymore was he? He'd been so quiet, so pensive, save for his startling entrance and blatant leering. He'd made no attempt at a normal chastise or sideways remark. Nothing of the sort, in fact during the meeting and after only ten minutes of light glaring at her she noticed his expression suddenly soften and his cool icy exterior melted into something warmer, much warmer.

As if he'd found resolve, she saw his storm-cloud grey eyes flicker and brighten with what looked like appreciation for the subject of his attention: her. His jaw relaxed and she saw the corners of his mouth turn upwards into a gentle smirk. There were moments when he hadn't looked away, and she found herself unable to either.

Previously, Hermione had never ever let herself acknowledge the attractiveness of the Malfoy heir. Not only was he traditionally not her type (she preferred dark haired men), but he was always so, so… himself. Years prior he'd been exceedingly smarmy and dishonest, chauvinistic and downright racist at times. Rarely had he shown much of any redeemable qualities except for every year he'd kept up with her in grades, right on her tail in each class which was something that always surprised her. He'd been someone who once was so narrow-minded and cruel; an aristocratic bully who'd hated her guts for years, at least in the beginning. Since fifth year he'd never paid her any neither mind, attention nor time unless it had to do with Prefect duties or classes.

He'd barely ever spared her a genuine glance their entire education…

And yet there he'd been, giving her looks and drinking her in like she was a rich oasis in a dry desert, licking and biting at his perfect, heart-shaped lips which instinctively made her do the same, worsening her already acquired lip-biting habit. In that moment during the meeting as Anthony Goldstein droned on and on, Hermione dared herself to see what she'd always pretended was not there.

Draco had grown so tall, and despite his typical refined pureblood poise and nature he appeared more rugged, more mysterious. The Slytherin's infamous silver-blonde tresses were uncharacteristically messy, sticking up a few places in reckless abandon. It was longer, skimming above his light eyebrows, one of which had a scar, a faded line from where the skin split and she'd never noticed it (and quite curious to know the story behind such a gash). His locks fell over and around his ears flawlessly framing his face. That face, with its exquisitely cut jawline and snow white complexion, with that Adam's apple tenuously bobbing in his throat, gulping anxiously as his eyes burned into her with raging flames, blue hot as the sea of desire. It had made the dull ache between her thighs kindle with the embers of a new kind of fire.

Hermione wasn't stupid, obviously. She assumed his behavior was the result of how great she'd been looking recently and the alluring aura of her improved confidence. Apparently it seemed he'd just discovered for himself something new, something he liked. At first it appeared to have angered him when he'd been glaring, probably upset that he was attracted to her of all people, the muggleborn swot Hermione Granger but then he got over that and settled on a different attitude. The reality of it was overwhelming to her but it was also inexorably exciting.

As intriguing as the notion sounded, she couldn't ignore how scared she felt by the initial thought of potentially shagging Draco Malfoy. The man oozed sensuality, yes but his soul was dripping with danger. He was known as the big bad wolf of Slytherin house (ferret in some cases) and Hermione reasoned she should for now cautiously proceed with her lion's claws bared and at the ready, just until she could feel out his true intentions, get to know him and his plans.

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The Dungeons

Down in the Slytherin Common Room the seventh year snakes sat mingling amicably, having not seen much of each other all summer. However, Draco wasn't really listening. Stuck inside his mind's eye was the memory of Hermione Granger's blushing and bemused expression as she quietly assessed him during the Prefect's meeting.

Gods, he'd been so angry at first. He couldn't fathom how he'd managed to out of nowhere learn he had the hots for Granger. Had he had the hots for her subconsciously the whole time? Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind had he always detested her and become repulsed by the thought of her, not because she was actually dirty or beneath him but because of his strict blood purity values growing up?

Did he go out of his way to push her around and put her down because he intuitively knew it would never work out, that he could never really be with her? The fact of the matter was, with her heightened wits, intellectuality and lovely, charming features she could potentially be his perfect match and not only just, the woman was infuriatingly better than him in every way. It was not what his father had taught him and his younger self hated her for it, not that he would have admitted any of this, not to himself, not back then. Draco simply acted as if she was some sort of pariah for as long as he knew her, never once wanted to see her in a different light.

He'd processed this standing in the meeting and he vaguely remembered Tracey Davis staring at him quizzically for his weird behavior. Tracey was a highly observant witch with a logical mind and she could read people well, as were most Slytherin's prerogatives. She must have seen his emotional struggle, sensed it all even. At the time he hadn't exactly noticed her acknowledgment of his actions and he wasn't exactly sure how obvious he had looked, especially when he'd decided to let go of his anger and try to embrace the idea of… what did he want with Granger?

Well yes, Draco wanted what any ordinary wizard of seventeen wanted when presented with his dream witch, his dream witch who undoubtedly would be a huge challenge to solve. She was an enigma of a woman, but with the sexiest brain and body in all of Hogwarts, in his opinion. This was a challenge he absolutely could not refuse.

So there, he could admit to himself he wanted to shag the living daylights out of Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's Princess. Was that it? Or did he…?

As Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass shared a laugh about something Draco missed, his glazed eyes cleared up like fog retreating on a window and he snapped to the present. Pansy of course spied his arrival back to reality from her peripherals beside him and turned with the intent to interrogate.

The thing with him and Pansy was that whatever they'd shared before sizzled out at the end of fifth year. She'd been head over heels for him since they met in Florean Fortescue's at eleven, but after two years of a relationship (they started dating at the end of third year) they'd come to a mutual agreement and understanding that they were no longer in tune with one another and it was too hard to want to keep trying when they were starting to not like each other very much at all. Since then they'd ironically grown closer as comrades and at this point she was just considered one of his best mates.

Before Pansy could begin to question him however Daphne called out to the whole group, getting everyone's attention. "Tracey heard from the rumor mill that Gryffindors Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had an epic split. Tracey, do tell?" Draco didn't move an inch, he didn't even breathe.

"Why does everything you say sound ridiculous like that, like you're Rita Skeeter sitting there writing an article for the Daily Prophet?" Theo prodded the eldest Greengrass sister and everyone sniggered but he was only being mildly malicious. Theo had a little crush on his fellow snake and everyone knew it. Daphne responded by playfully smacking him in his bicep.

"Sod off, Theodore. I simply want to know the latest gossip. I've been cooped up at our lake house in the Alps all summer long and haven't heard anything about anyone." Theo rolled his eyes. Daphne gestured to Tracey. "Trace?" she encouraged.

Blaise adjusted his arm around Tracey's shoulders and she sat up in her seat a bit, crossing her legs to get comfortable. "Well, my source was Winnifred Willis who we all know to be chummy with Ginevra Weasley," she paused and everyone nodded. Winnie Willis was a sixth year Slytherin who'd bonded with the youngest Weasley after being partnered together in classes numerous times together. Also, Willis was a Prefect and was at the meeting to witness first-hand the result of Hermione's metamorphosis alongside Tracey and Draco. "Therefore, what I heard is most certainly truthful." Tracey cleared her throat. "Apparently, Ron is disastrous to be in a relationship with. Hermione Granger's exact words were, 'he's utterly thoughtless and selfish, and terrible at kissing'."

Everyone erupted into light laughter with Blaise and Theo's bellowing guffaws overcoming the atmosphere. Draco snickered. "Doesn't surprise me at all," he said quietly as he looked into his chalice full of firewhiskey but his surrounding companions had heard. A brief, unmistakably awkward silence penetrated the air.

Zabini and Davis looked at each other and then back at Malfoy. Parkinson peered over at the tall Quidditch Seeker. Her hazel eyes were filled with a hundred questions. Greengrass pushed her glasses up, her expression clouded over in thought. Nott sighed dramatically.

"Sweet Salazar that little, know-it-all bint sure grew into a sight for sore eyes," Theo proclaimed unashamedly. Blaise and Tracey's gazes never left the silver-haired snake as they continued to sip their cocktails. "I saw her frolicking about in Diagon Alley. Tally-ho! If she wants I'll happily show her what good kissing feels like."

Draco's grey eyes turned to slits. 'No, you won't.' he thought, fuming. He had to watch out for that one.

"Well, good luck with that Theodore." Daphne said monotonously. "You're such an impressive wizard specimen; truly, it will be no trouble at all getting Hermione Granger to fall at your feet." Theo felt outwardly offended at her sarcasm.

"Is that so, Daph?" he questioned, setting down his firewhiskey.

"I said it, did I not?" she answered, crossing her arms in a huff. Theo placed his hand on his heart, keeling over in faux pain.

Pansy scoffed, "On that note I'm off to bed. Goodnight, morons." She moved to leave but not before a swift glare in Draco's direction. Perhaps there were still some un-mended wounds deep down in the Parkinson heiress.

"Oh, you don't mean that," Nott winced theatrically. "You don't mean that, because you're jealous!" He jabbed Daphne in the shoulder with his finger. She cackled manically.

"Please stop Theodore, I'll laugh myself into an early grave." She deadpanned and as fast as a muggle-bullet she stood and fled the room in the same direction as Pansy.

After a few seconds, Blaise poured himself another drink. Tracey smirked. "Well, that was invigorating."

"What's with you, mate?" Blaise suddenly rounded on Draco, addressing the proverbial elephant in the room. "Is there anything we need to know about? Anything you need to tell us?"

"What?" Draco leaned backwards, his pale fingers clutching his black pants tightly in worry. "Why would there be anything for me to tell you? I'm fine, thanks."

"You're acting pretty peculiar if you ask me,"

"I wasn't asking." He interjected.

"You're loads more quiet than normal, brooding even with this anguished, faraway look in your eyes; much too thoughtful to be considered healthy. Really, what's got you so put out?"

"Really Blaise, I said I wasn't asking." Draco responded, smugly but grimly.

"I'm asking," the dark-skinned Italian raised his voice slightly, enough for Tracey to want to set her hand on his leg.

Theo had his elbows on his knees, leaning forward as he gazed up at Draco from the sofa across from him. "We're only concerned, mate."

"Maybe he's not ready to talk about it yet, you can't force him." Tracey offered mercifully.

Draco breathed in and out through his nose as he slowly lost the staring contest with Nott. He knocked back the rest of the alcohol in his chalice and leveled with his friends. "Honestly, Davis is right. I'm not ready and I'm not exactly sure what I would even say. So for now could we please just drop it?"

The other three snakes shared looks with each other before agreeing to let it go. "Of course Draco," Tracey said.

"Course mate," the other two echoed softly.

"That's excellent, thank you because there's nothing wrong with me. I'll be headed to bed now as well. You lot should too. It's getting late." With that he got up and walked to the dormitories.

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Hogwarts Castle, the Dungeons, September 2nd

Tracey found Draco right before breakfast on the way to the Great Hall. She caught up to him in the dungeon corridor and they both stepped out of the way of other students to have a discussion but Draco had his arms crossed, body language conveying that he was unwilling to open up, not even to his closest friends.

"Trace, if this is about last night I really ca – "

"I know but…" she trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how to tell him. "Well, you know me Draco; I notice… pretty much everything." Tracey leaned closer. Her voice became hushed so no one near could hear. "I saw the way you were looking at the Head Girl during the meeting." Draco's mouth opened to retort but she quieted him. "I may have unintentionally mentioned something about it to Blaise," she admitted with regret.

"What do you mean?" he snarled darkly, attempting to hold back his building frustration.

"It was nothing really, but right after the meeting I wanted to tell him of the Gryffindor Princess' fresh look and of all the attention she was receiving and well…"

Draco tapped his foot impatiently. "What exactly did you say, Davis?"

"I said, 'Even Draco was absolutely entranced'."

The Slytherin Prince smacked his forehead comically. "Absolutely entranced?" He ran his hands through his now disheveled locks. "You've got to be kidding me,"

"I'm sorry," she offered sincerely. "It just sort of slipped out."

"Right so what else then, eh? Zabini have some sort of scheme cooked up to mess with me? You know, I'm getting entirely exhaust-" Tracey noted his lack of denial to the validity of her 'entranced' comment.

"Erhm… him and Nott may have –"

"What?"

"They've made a little bet of sorts," she paused as Draco's eyes glinted lividly. Tracey gulped.

"Go on," he said through gritted teeth.

"After dinner they had a conversation in the loo about it. Apparently, Theo said that he thinks it'll take you only two months to get her into bed, maybe less. Blaise countered that it'll take you until Christmas or... or not at all because…"

"Because…?"

"You're as chicken as a first-year Hufflepuff,"

Draco Malfoy at least had the sense to laugh at that but it wasn't in good humor. He sounded maniacal, almost murderous. Tracey was certain the silver-haired fox was beginning to lose it. Draco realized that with Blaise interrogating him and Theo saying what he said about Granger in the common room the night before most likely had been part of a ruse to give him some incentive to go after her... or maybe they just wanted to trip him up, break his stride but ultimately he concluded that to be unlikely. However, Draco had incentive enough as it were and he didn't need nor want his two best Slytherin mates meddling in his romantic affairs. It really was none of their business.

"That's fucking hilarious, Davis. Thanks for telling me but say no more. I want to be surprised when I get to see what Zabini and Nott have to do when they find out they both lost that bet."

He couldn't believe those two, Blaise mostly. At least Theodore had some faith in him and that's because Nott truly knew the type of person Draco was. They'd essentially grown up together, spending countless afternoons in their childhoods side by side reading in the library, riding their brooms and playing freely in the lush gardens and meadows of their familial estates. On the other end, Zabini had spent his younger days mostly travelling the world and exploring different cultures and lands. His family's main residence was in Italy but they had many luxurious villas and cottages scattered throughout Europe.

"Malfoy, just ignore them! Go your own pace. Remember, what they say does not matter." She replied, but he had already turned around and was walking away.

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Hogwarts Castle, 1st Floor, September 5th

It was finally Friday, the first week of classes was over and the weekend had officially begun. Students everywhere were clamoring about, socializing, getting ready for dinner and surprisingly there were several actually still immersed in their school work. Hermione Granger for instance was in the library searching for a specific book she'd need to help her with the up and coming Potions essay.

She hadn't seen much of Malfoy since their first encounter on the Express. Yes, he'd been in her classes and here and there he'd eyed her up but he hadn't spoken to her, which she was somewhat glad for but the prolonging of the supposed inevitable was almost too much to bear. And what could they possibly say to each other that wouldn't turn out to sound callous or awkward? Hermione had a hard time believing either of their defenses could be shattered so easily.

Not to mention, there were loads of other boys and girls giving her attention. Most of it was romantically or sexually charged too and Hermione couldn't deny how nice finally being noticed was making her feel. She kept reminding herself to stay grateful and also to steer clear of the creeps.

As she browsed the shelves the specific book she so desperately needed popped into focus. It was sadly perched all the way at the very top shelf but Hermione thought there may be a chance of actually reaching it if she just stretched a little higher…

The Prince of Slytherin was also looking for a book, the same one in fact and as he came around the towering stacks deep within the library he almost jumped at the sudden sight of her. She hadn't heard him however and Draco assessed his options as he appreciated the way her skirt hiked up and up, exposing the flesh of her soft, golden thighs as she reached for the top shelf.

He'd been waiting for an opportunity like this to speak with her all week. Granted, with Draco being the kind of person he is naturally he wanted to make her wait a little bit and play a harmless game of hard to get but damnit to Slytherin if that wasn't a difficult task. He couldn't just simply ignore her; even his eyes had betrayed him throughout classes and meals though try as he might she kept catching him gazing at her.

On her tippy-toes, with the one hand gripping a shelf at her eye-level Hermione's outstretched fingertips could just skim the binding of the elusive tome. A small sweat beaded at her hairline, she was struggling and becoming quite irritated. She was about to give up to go find a chair but just then was blindsided by the unforeseen presence of another. A familiar hand with long, pale fingers gingerly grazed along hers and effortlessly retrieved the book from its high place.

As Draco leaned above her he couldn't resist as he discreetly inhaled how she smelled. It was freshly exotic, reminiscent of a Caribbean beach and there were sugary notes of saccharine floral, a combination of coconut mixed with vanilla and a dash of sweet pea. It was like pure heaven.

Hermione turned and peered up at him. Her big, chocolatey amber eyes shone with apprehensiveness but also with something akin to admiration. "Malfoy…?" She had to admit to herself she was more than a bit shocked to see him so suddenly after only thinking of him moments ago. In truth, these last few days he was almost all she thought about, save for school work and Head Girl duties. Even just then she couldn't help the red hot flush that crept up her neck and cheeks at his unexpected closeness. "Um, what're you…?"

He held the book away from her lingering hands. "Head Girl," he nodded in greeting. "As you're well aware, I'm in need of this particular book for the same Potions essay. If I let you have it now, promise to pass it on to me when you're finished?" he offered politely but his grin charmingly bordered on devilish.

Instinctively, the twelve-year old Hermione inside of her wanted to huff and puff just because it was him talking, but the amiable kindness in his eyes and the reasonability of his question was not lost on her. "Uh, well yes, of course," was her nervous and excited reply.

He smirked lightly. "Here's your prize, then." he handed her the textbook.

"Thank you," bashfully she held the book to her chest tightly with both hands, her usual sense of bravery missing when it mattered most.

"Just find me when you're all done with it, Granger. Owl me, if you need." He suggested. Despite her smile Draco sensed her uneasiness and he wished to soothe her into the idea of the two of them becoming friendlier. Her beautiful chestnut colored tendrils were splayed all around her shoulders with the top pulled into a half-up, messy bun and a few lone strands had fallen over her eyes. Without any further thinking he reached forward to push them out of the way, brushing over her face with a barely there touch. Her freckled cheeks reddened to a shade similar to tomatoes and Draco chuckled gently, quirking an eyebrow at her. "See you around Princess," he winked as a final gesture and walked away, leaving her to swoon in the library.

And thus began the trajectory of Draco Malfoy's seduction of Hermione Granger. Also, he was of course dead-set on finding out any information that might prove she was indeed the goddess from his most favorite portrait. Even if she wasn't, at that point he was fairly certain he didn't care. He was now too immersed with the enthralling possibility of bedding Granger to want to ever give up on it, same woman or not.

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Ground Floor

The Great Hall reverberated with the loud, rambunctious voices of all the students and faculty. By the time Hermione walked through the entrance dinner was already in full swing. She glided in between the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor tables careful not to glance in the direction of the Slytherin table and took a seat next to Ginny. It was too late she realized when she came face to face with Ronald directly across from her.

"Hey, 'Mione," Harry greeted kindly from beside Ron. "Find everything you needed at the library?"

"Yes, I did. Thanks, how was your afternoon Harry?" Hermione smiled trying to come off natural, hoping she wasn't giving away anything pertaining to certain events that transpired in said library.

"It was alright. Lounged about in the common room, chatted it up. Wouldn't dare to look over a single book," he said proudly with a smug smile on his face. Hermione giggled, she'd been missing him this week. He'd spent almost all his time trying to be there for Ron that he'd barely talked with her, but she didn't want to be angry about it, she didn't want to be angry at all anymore, about anything.

Hermione looked at Ron who lifted his head from his plate and met her gaze. "Hello Ronald," she chanced.

Ron swallowed his mouthful of food, replied a small, "'Mione," and then took a large swig of his pumpkin juice.

She figured she shouldn't take it further than that so she made herself a plate. It included a plentiful amount of roasted meat and potatoes but she was really craving more vegetables. 'Brain food,' she thought as she added a hefty amount of green beans to the mix. Then she felt his eyes on her. Not Harry's striking emeralds or Ron's mellow, hazel-azures but those tempting, arctic grey-blues. Hermione tried not to but she couldn't resist and she felt her self-discipline completely deplete to nothing when she let her gaze shift to meet Draco Malfoy's, his eyes those shining silver-ice lakes, deep with intense emotions she wanted to dive right into. She felt excited for the moment she finished her essay, when she was obligated to seek him out to hand over the promised textbook.

Just then, Ginny turned away from Parvati Patil and cupped her hand around Hermione's ear, whispering playfully. "Parvati wanted me to tell you that Lavender said that Cormac is coming after you." Hermione was cruelly ripped from her thoughts and immediately felt internally disturbed.

"Are you being serious?" Hermione questioned, befuddled and leaned in to speak more quietly. "I thought Lavender and Cormac were an item. Why would she want to say such a thing?"

"Actually, those two are only shagging. They have a completely open relationship."

"That's… uh, well okay? So?" She was going to say how absurd it sounded but stopped herself. She wouldn't want to be in one but an open-relationship wasn't that strange, she surmised. "I don't care. I have no interest in that vile prat whatsoever." Hermione may have sounded a little harsh and definitely a tad snooty but she'd turned down Cormac McLaggen on numerous occasions throughout the years and it astounded her that he relentlessly refused to let her be. Throughout classes she would notice his chilling, jade green eyes constantly watching her and there were moments when the prick got a bit handsy with her; here or there tapping her shoulder, poking her in her sides or standing so close she could feel his raggedy stench of breath blow hotly against her hair and neck. The strange, unstable energy he emitted really did have the ability to give her a fright sometimes. It truly seemed like Cormac just wanted to give into his lust, grab her up against her will and take her away. Just the thought of it caused the peach-fuzz over her entire body to eerily stand on end. She despised that brainless, Quidditch-obsessed werido. He was such a dim-witted, lecherous cad.

"Alright yeah whatever, you don't have to hex the messenger." Ginny sniffed under her breath.

"Sorry Gin," Hermione replied abashed by her own waspishness. "I've just grown so tiresome of McLaggen's advances. I thought I'd finally gotten rid of him when Brown found a way to ahem, tickle his fancy so to speak."

Ginny chortled, her light, tawny-walnut eyes brightening with mirth. "He's a right foul one, 'Mione. I don't blame you. His face may be cute but everything underneath is boring and vapid."

"Exactly. There's nothing there, there's no… substance." She whole-heartedly agreed. Hermione thought of someone else who did have substance; a tall blonde wizard who had a cool mysterious soul with a dark deepness she wanted to wade away in.

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AN: That'll do for now I suppose. I could have written more but I'll save it for the next chapter. Let me know what you're thinking so far! And again, thank you so much for reading! Cheers, my friends.