A/N:

My first HP FanFic.

Yes, I know the title sucks.

Hope you like it!

Young and naïve, that's how normal kids are. Carefree and happy. Not Draco Malfoy, though. He had a scowl over his handsome, mysterious features. He was from a noble family. Well-respected, handsome, rich. That, maybe, was the reason why some even dared to befriend him. They didn't know who he really was. Oh, and he has this humongous ego, along with a smirk. He likes to tease and boss people around. Before I forget, Draco is a wizard. And you don't know what he could do to get what he wants. Everyone follows him like die-hard fans. All except Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and a big amount of Gryffindors. They would look at him as if he were a poor creature. Which he wasn't, was he?

!i!

"Granger!" Draco Malfoy called out. She turned around, an expression of great discomfort on her face.

"What is is now, Draco?" She asked coldly. She hated being called by her last name. Hermione. Was that so hard to say?

"How're your Mudblood parents? I'm surprised you could even use a wand!"

"And you're any better? Holding your precious pureblood chin up high, trying to act tough. I know you, Malfoy. Pureblood parents following You-Know-Who but you're not your parents, and you're trying so hard to live up to their expectations. I pity you." Her words, like a song played again and again, echoed in Draco's head.

"I don't need your pity, Mudblood," he spat. Hermione all but sighed.

"If you see it that way," Hermione said, walking towards the Weasley's. "Then I can't help you."

Pity? Help? He thought, slightly enraged. I don't need pity and I don't need help. He walked toward his 'so-called' friends.

"Can you believe her? She said I was pitiful!" Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances.

"You're not piety-ful, Malfoy. She's just jealous, I guess," Crabbe said, unsure. Draco's ears perked up at the word jealous and didn't even bother to correct Crabbe that the word was pitiful, not piety-ful.

"What would she be jealous of?" Draco inquired.

"Maybe 'cause you're a pureblood and she isn't or that you've got a lot of people who like you and she's got only Weasel," Goyle offered.

No, he thought. That's not the truth. But I'll believe it anyway.

!i!

"Hermione!" Ginny said, snapping her fingers on the front of the young adult's face. "Jeez, get back to the real world, will you?" They were talking about the Winter Ball which was not coming for months. But Ginny just picked the topic. Then Hermione's mind went to Draco as Ginny was pointing this "silvery" dress, which reminded her a lot of his eyes. Then she thought if Draco was a good dancer to if he would dance with her if she wasn't a Muggle-born and if her hair wasn't so frizzy…

"Sorry, Ginny," Hermione said. "I was just… thinking." And that statement couldn't really be a lie… 'cause she was totally thinking.

"Draco Malfoy isn't it?" Ginny teased. Hermione felt the color rising to her cheeks.

"N-no. I am absolutely not thinking of Draco "Ferret" Malfoy," she said, lying through her teeth.

"You, Hermione Jean Granger, are the worst liar in the history of liars! Except for Ron… and Dean… and Harry… and Lavender… Nevermind. You are a bad liar. And what you're lying about is just as bad. Silver-eyed, blond haired, big-mouthed pureblood prats like them are absolutely delectable, aren't they?" Hermione felt her stomach twist up in knots. And Draco wasn't even remotely close to them. They were in the Gryffindor Common Room, for Merlin's sake! How could Draco have that effect on her?

"Bloody hell," muttered Hermione. "Stop describing him, Ginny. It makes me want to throw up." Which was partly true.

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Suuuuure it does," Ginny mocked. "But I sure don't want to be late for the nth time on my date with Dean. Bye, 'Mione." And she dashed off.

What was it? What is it with Draco Malfoy that makes me want to kiss him? To hold him close and never let him go?

It was like he cared, sometimes. She could see it in his eyes. He's not Malfoy. He's Draco. He has his moments, though they are extremely rare. She sighed. Whatever this is with Draco, it shouldn't affect her grades, she decided.

!i!

"Mudblood! Granger!" Draco said. "Granger!"

Hermione sighed. She didn't need this right now, she was going to Hogsmeade, with Dean and Ginny. She was dressed up already.

"What is it now?" Hermione asked, looking anywhere but his face.

"Where are you going?" He asked. Out of curiosity, he assured himself. It's not that I actually care.

"I'm going to Hogsmeade, with Ginny and Dean," she said.

Huh, he thought. "So you like being the third wheel?"

Ouch, she said inwardly. "No, not really. It's just 'cause—"

"'Cause that's exactly what Mudbloods are. Filthy creatures. Third wheels. Unnecessary. Useless." Her eyes widened and she stood up. Her hand flew swiftly across Draco's cheek.

"Well, you know what, Draco Malfoy? I. Hate. You. You and your stupid ego!" Then she stormed off, even forgetting her possessions.

Draco's cool hand went to his cheek. How dare she slap a Malfoy! Looking around something caught his eye. It was a little red notebook. Probably Granger's. It could easily be her notes, considering that the tests are coming up very soon. And it could be the element of my revenge! Draco thought hungrily. He picked it up, hid it under his Slytherin robes, and ran to the Slytherin Common Room.