Draco Malfoy was in love. And not just a lingering elementary school crush that he never quite got over. We're talking head-over-heels would kill for her. She was none other than Hermione Granger.
They met in third grade, after the teacher had been reading them a story about wizards and trolls and children on broomsticks, to which Hermione stood up, claimed that the teacher was feeding them false information for no reason, and promptly left the room, bothered. The teacher had shaken her head, straightened her glasses on the chain around her neck, and said, "Mr. Malfoy. Would you kindly go get Ms. Granger? I would hate to continue the story without her!"
He nodded and then stood up, going to find the girl with apple-scented curls and a striped shirt over a pair of denim overalls.
Draco found her by the water fountain, cheeks red and a scowl on her face. He gently approached her before saying, "Hermione? That's your name, right? Ms. McGonagall wants you to come back."
"I don't need to come back. Those stories are all fake and aren't giving us any useful information! Why can't we learn about single-celled organisms or symbiotic relationships in the environment or something?"
"Y-you know about mutual and parasitic relationships, too?"
"Of course, because that information is based on fact. Besides, I've already read that book, anyway."
"So have I, but that doesn't mean other kids have. Let's just go back and then we can see if our mums will take us to the library to get books we haven't read yet." And with that, he grabbed her hand, small and soft in his, and pulled her down the hallway to their classroom.
"Fine," she grumbled.
In fifth grade, Draco punched a boy on her behalf.
He stood over Vincent Crabbe as he bellowed, "Don't ever say anything about her glasses or her hair! Do you hear me?" The two boys tousled on the ground until a teacher pulled them off of each other and dragged them to the Principal Dumbledore's office, where their mothers were promptly called and they received a week of detention of two weeks of grounding from their mums.
"But you'll miss our weekly library visits!" Hermione whined. They had taken to going to the library every Friday after school where they would then be picked up by either Draco or Hermione's mum and taken back to either house. At Draco's, Hermione would walk through the front door, marvel at their literal mansion, and then stay up all night reading their books and arguing over their preferences. At Hermione's, Draco would comment on how homey it felt with the walls crammed with books and the cookie jar always left on top of the fridge.
"I know, but it's just two weeks," Draco reasoned.
On their first day of 7th grade, Draco caught up to her in the hallway as she walked with a redheaded girl. She threw her arms around his neck. "Draco!"
"You have braces!" It wasn't anything special and Draco had been gone for a month with his parents in Italy but they had never been ones for awkward silence and within five minutes, they resumed best friend positions, chatting away before, during, and after class since they already knew the material.
"I know but my mum says it will only be for a year and a few months. You're lucky you already had them," Hermione said glumly.
It wasn't until one day in 8th grade that Draco realized something had changed. She started wearing her hair straight, and at the beginning, it was maybe once a month but it started becoming more frequent, and eventually, it was straight at least once a week.
Finally, Draco had enough. "Why do you keep wearing your hair like that?"
She looked startled for a minute before answering. "Ronald said he likes it better," she self-consciously ran her hand over the top, smoothing down the fly aways.
Draco had a bad taste in his mouth, a coppery taste before realizing he had bitten a hole in his tongue and blood was pooling under it. "Who's Ronald?"
"Ginny's brother. He's really nice and Ginny says he likes me, but I don't know." She looked worried as if she didn't know whether or not he didn't like her.
As if that was possible.
"Don't you like your hair curly?"
"I-yes. It feels more like me, but Ronald-"
"Screw him. He sounds like an idiot. When you come to class tomorrow, your hair better be curly," and he stalked off, fuming.
The next day, her hair was springy and apple-scented again.
During the summer before ninth grade, Draco was scrolling through his feed on Instagram when he came across a picture of a stunning girl, with long, curly hair, and perfectly tanned legs. Her teeth were straight and white and her bikini fit her perfectly. He thought the girl in the picture was sexy and stunning until he saw who posted it.
hjgranger rbweasley
#bikinivibes#summerfun#summerlove
It was then that he realized her hand was clutching another person's as they stood on the dock. All Draco saw was red.
He counted down the days until summer ended and practically flew out of the car and into the new building. He checked his schedule- Biology first- and prayed that she would be in it. Draco had all but resigned himself to the fact that she wasn't coming when she burst through the doors a minute before class started, and he had the chance to take her in. Her hair looked longer in person, and more gold than brown, her teeth still completely straight and her skin glowing. Her skirt draped to her knee, the black fabric a striking contrast to her tanned skin. Her halter top grazed her collarbones and cut over her shoulder, the white color complementing her skirt.
Draco saw a smear of red on her cheek and realized whatever was on her lips had been smudged.
He reached out with a tissue and wiped away the color. She whipped to face him, momentarily panicked before her shoulders visibly slumped and she sagged in relief. She reached out with her right arm and pulled him in for a side hug. He breathed her hair in.
She didn't smell like apples anymore. While the scent of her- perfume?- was lovely, he didn't appreciate that she didn't smell like Hermione anymore.
Hermione didn't seem focused at all during class and knocked over someone else's books on the way out. She bent over to pick up her books and it didn't go unnoticed by Draco the way her skirt rolled up to her thighs as she did. Unfortunately, it didn't go unnoticed by the twat Finnegan either.
"Sorry, Seamus," Hermione said, stacking his books back on his desk.
"Drop them anytime, Hermione," Seamus joked, elbowing Dean Thomas in the ribs.
She finally finished stacking the books and her skirt tumbled back down to cover her backside.
Good.
Draco caught up with her after class, swinging his arm over her shoulder.
"Hey, Draco," she said, but she sounded almost uncomfortable and a little hesitant.
"What's wrong?" Draco let his arm fall back to his side.
"I have a boyfriend, Draco. We- he wouldn't like it if I hung out with you like we used to. Maybe later? It was really great seeing you, though," she gave a small smile and then turned around only to be greeted by the redhead idiot who draped his arm over his shoulder like Draco had done and smirked back at him. Draco's eyes flicker with anger before he pivots on his ankle and storms out of the building. He misses classes on Thursday and Friday, claiming he is sick.
In eleventh grade, Hermione and Weasley are still going strong and their second anniversary falls on prom day.
How fucking sweet?
Originally, Draco wasn't going to go. He was going to stay home and wallow in self-pity while he imagined Hermione waltzing around the ballroom in her dress, peppering kisses along Weasley's freckled face. But then he decided to get up, "borrow" one of his father's best suits and steal Hermione's heart.
When he arrived at the school, there were kids being dropped off still, and by the looks of it, kids had gone all out with ball gowns puffier than in those fairy tale movies he watched with Hermione all those years ago. He pushed open the doors, ignoring the flock of girls that were forming at his side. His eyes were set on one girl and he intended to make her his that very night. For a moment, he thought she wasn't going to show up when the doors opened, and in walked...a goddess. Her hair tumbled down in soft curls her makeup was dewy and light and her eyes sparkled under the colored lights. Her dress was white and fit her body perfectly. The front was halter style, the back was bare, except for two strings that crossed over her ribs, tying the dress to her.
Draco's current and less enjoyable best friend Theo Nott slid up beside him. "I thought you didn't do dances. You said that they were stupid and a waste of time and-"
"I came here for her! Happy? Glad one of us is," Draco said scornfully.
"I'm just surprised it took you so long, mate," Theo said, slapping him on the back and walking away from him.
Draco stood by the punch bowl, waiting for Hermione to realize she was thirsty. He heard a few seniors talking behind him, clearly drunk.
"You see Granger?"
"Man, I'd love to stick it-"
"Not If I don't get to her fir-"
"Oh, please. She'd never go for you two. I wonder if she's a virg-"
"Obviously she's not. She wouldn't be dressed like a whore if-"
"I don't know. Sometimes, the virgins dress-"
"Dudes, I knew this one girl that-"
"Bet that girl didn't compare to Granger-"
"Wonder what gets her wet-"
"I want to fuck her-"
"Pinch her nipples-"
"Cum on them-"
Draco couldn't take it. His glass cup-why the hell was it glass?- shattered in his hand from his vice-like grip and his fists swung, connecting with someone's jaw with a sickening crack. He felt a body jump him from behind it but the adrenaline pounding in his ears fueled him to push forward and throw more punches. White pain spread through his body as someone drove their elbow into his back but he didn't care. He simply stumbled back, falling on top of the guy currently injuring him the most. Amidst he chaos, Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him to the front of the commotion, where she saw a beautiful pale face contorted in pain and anger and a stunning pile of hair covered in blood.
Not his blood, she hoped. Ron tried to convince her it wasn't their fight and that if she followed him to his car, he would make it worth leaving early. Hermione scoffed disbelievingly and snarled, "That's my friend, you idiot," at him before turning her back and focusing her gaze on the boy who was no longer on the ground. None of them were because Principal Dumbledore has just walked through the doors. He glances from the group of boys that look filled with rage, to Draco who sits in a chair by the punch, to her hands that were covered in his blood as she attempted to clean off his nose.
"Ms. Granger, if you would escort Mr. Malfoy home. You boys, follow me." The gang of guys grumbled and trailed to the doors of the gym.
Pansy Parkinson ran to Draco's side before calling out, "Actually, I can take Draco home. Drakey, are you okay?"
"Ms. Parkinson, that won't be necessary. Mr. Malfoy is in very good hands."
Hermione detached Pansy's grip around his neck and shoved her to the side, muttering a, "I can take it from here." Ron grabbed her elbow and dragged her to the side. "I don't want you going home with him, Hermione."
"And since when do you make my choices for me?" Hermione was angry and frustrated with Ron's lack of concern.
"I'm your boyfriend, you idiot, and I said no!"
"The only reason we're in this mess is because a group of idiot boys were calling your girlfriend awful names, and I took it upon myself to defend her. I don't see a problem with that. How would you have reacted if you heard a bunch of guys calling her a whore and a slut and telling each other how badly they wanted to fuck Hermione? Because if you're as good of a boyfriend as you better be, you would have been less forgiving than I was," Draco snarled, a new wave of heat flashing through him, coursing in his veins like a river.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the words that flew out of Draco's mouth. Her mind transported her back to fifth grade, when he had beat up Crabbe for making fun of her.
"They called you a whore?"
"Yes, Ronald," Hermione said, her voice shaking as she fully prepared for Ron to start a round two with the boys in Dumbledore's office.
"You do, sort of. I mean, in a good way. Your dress is a bit see-through and-"
"Excuse me?" Draco snarled, standing as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist.
"What the hell are you doing? Get your arm off my girlfriend!"
"She's not your girlfriend anymore, Weasley, step aside," Draco growled as his grip tightened.
"What the hell are you on about, Malfoy? You don't decide when we're over, only I do!"
"No, you know what? It is over. I've dealt with your shit for years and you never really wanted to be with me. You liked being seen with me and you liked what it did for your image but you don't like me. It's over."
"H-"
"Enough, Ronald!" She dragged Draco to the doors and out of the school, inviting the cold air to lick at her skin and burn her lungs. Your car-"
"Is over there." He pointed to his black BMW and Hermione cursed his family's wealth for the first time in what felt like forever. The drive was quiet, slow, and peaceful, the silence blanketing them, saying more words than a thousand sentences. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he smiled. They went through the gates to the nicer part of town, and they pulled into a massive driveway, connected to an even bigger house, one of the largest on the street.
They walked the path to the front door, and Hermione waited for Draco to fish out his key and slide it into the lock before she pushed the door open and helped him inside. There was a soft glow of light coming from the living room and they walked in to see Draco's mum, Narcissa, reading a book on the couch. She looked up from her page and took in the sight.
"Hermione, dear!" She embraced her before stepping back and looking at Draco. "There's a first aid kit in his bathroom. Call me if you need anything?"
Hermione nodded and took Draco's arm to place it over her shoulder and they started the climb up the stairs. With the way he was wincing, Hermione was certain he had sprained an ankle or something so when they finally made it to his room, she told him to lift his pant leg so she could check. It wasn't sprained but it was sore and bruised. She stood up and grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom, noticing the clean countertops with one toothbrush laid on the side and a can of hair mousse.
"When did you change your hair?" For a while, it had been slicked back with gel, the style his father chose for him. When his dad moved out, so did that hairdo and he started combing it to the side. Now, it fell over his forehead softly, sweeping just above his eyebrows.
He mumbled an "A while ago," and grabbed the kit from her. "You can go home now. No point staying here," his voice was gruff and low.
"But I-"
"Why are you even here? It's been years since you've even talked to me and now you're bandaging up my injuries and tucking me into bed?"
"I'm sorry. I was busy with school and life and then I met the Weasleys and Harry and I forgot. I'm really sorry. I've been a terrible friend."
"Yeah, some friend," his voice icy.
"I miss coming over to your house after library days and staying up all night reading with you. I miss coming to my house after school and sneaking some cookies from the top of the fridge. I want my friend back and I understand if you-if it takes time to get back to where we were but I...missed you," her head dropped and Draco set the box on his bed, opening his arms to her.
"Come here, Granger," he sounded sad, and broken. She stepped into his arms and something clicked, the pieces of the puzzle connecting after what felt like years.
"Missed you," he mumbled into her hair.
"Do I still have to leave?" She asked in a small, desperate voice as her fingers clutched his dress shirt.
"No. You can stay as long as you want."
She smiled before loosening her grip on his shirt and stepping away. "Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I want to wash off this makeup and this foul perfume."
A swell of happiness and familiarity flared through him, and he smiled again. "Go ahead. Oh, there's some of your shampoo still left under the sink, I believe. My mum told me not to throw it away."
Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek after Draco gave her a t-shirt to wear and a towel and she slipped into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, they were lying in his bed, arguing over whether they should watch Titanic or not. "Shit, I need to call my parents first." She stood up and grabbed her phone from the dresser, unlocked it and dialed her mum's number.
"Mum, I'm staying at Draco's tonight, okay?"
inaudible.
"Mum! Don't say that! Yes, I know. Love you, too."
She placed her phone back on the dresser and slid under the covers. She grabbed the remote and put on the movie. As Rose and Jack ran away to the lower decks, Draco turned to her and slipped a curl behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek, and she took that as a sign to lean forward. His hands slithered down to her waist, where he pulled her even closer to him and finally pressed his lips to hers.
It felt like seeing fireworks for the first time; the anticipation building and building and the explosion even better then you could imagine. Her hands wound into his hair, pulling him closer to her, before he slid in top of her, his hands bracing himself.
"-missed you," he murmured against her neck, and she let out a breathy sigh.
"Draco-"
Her hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt, and he sat up and pulled it off of his chest, revealing his broad shoulders and toned stomach. He made her lift her back and his fingers found the string, pulling on the fabric and sliding the dress down to her waist. The sight of her bare chest broke him, and he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, her neck, and above her breasts.
As they finished undressing each other and he pressed into her for the first time, he knew his fate was decided. He knew that all those times he fought for her and stayed with her, that she was his and he was hers.
It just took a while for them to realize it.