Chapter 5. Malfoy

Granger was losing her shit.

It was like she wanted everyone to know how worried she was for Potter. She showed clear signs of agitation: fidgeting, pacing back and forth, biting her finger, talking to herself that everything will be alright, and holding on to the person next to her. She was distracting practically everyone from watching the game.

"Attention whore," he muttered under his breath.

"Who?" Zabini asked.

"The mudblood," he pointed with a nod. "So unnecessary."

"Yeah, sure," Zabini replied, not even looking at what Draco had pointed out.

She was even worse when Potter miraculously survived. She ran out of the stadium and went straight to Potter. She hugged him like he had just come back to life.

"You were amazing, Harry!" she shouted, for everyone to hear. "I'm so glad you're alive!"

"Thanks," Harry said, a little flushed.

Draco wanted to punch him in the face but stopped himself because it would ruin his image. Also, he had to save his energy if he had to show extreme willpower not to kill the mudblood during detention.

He saw Viktor Krum talk to the mudblood. He said something that made her blush. She was blushing the whole time. Draco resisted the urge to throw up.

After Hermione left, he went up to Victor Krum himself.

He tapped on Krum's shoulder. "Do you know who you were talking to?"

"Yes," Krum said. "Hermione Granger."

"You shouldn't be talking to people like her," he warned him. "They're only desperate for attention."

"Well, she doesn't seem like that kind of person. I got the impression that she is very independent."

"That's just to hide her true colors. Did you know she only has two friends that are guys?"

"No, Hermione has more friends. She's just closer to them."

"She's just saying that because she wants you. Do you know that she's muggle-born?"

"No, I didn't, but how is that a problem?"

Draco was getting tired of Krum defending her, and knew that he had fallen under her slutty spell.

"And who are you to speak so ill about my friend?" Krum asked.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Come back to me when you've realized that you're making a mistake by befriending her." He walked away.

After dinner, he had to sit through another slut show by Parkinson, who wore almost nothing in the Slytherin common room. Draco was sitting by the fireplace, thinking about why Krum liking the mudblood annoyed him.

"Hey Draco," she smiled.

"What do you want?"

"Oh nothing," she said, slowly sitting next to him. He could smell her rancid perfume. She traced her fingers up Draco's arm. "I want what you want."

"I want you to get dressed," he said and stood up. "I need to go to detention."

"But it's only eight," she whined. "Play with me."

"No, it starts at eight," he said. "I'm late."

Parkinson grabbed his sleeve. "Draco, you're being silly. You can stop playing hard to get."

"I'm not playing hard to get; I am hard to get. If you wanted a chance with me, you should have shown some sort of decency or desirableness in your character."

"Am I not desirable enough?" She said, puppy-eyed. However the puppy was more like a pug than a cute one. "Draco, you're going to end up with me whether you like it or not. Personally, I don't mind having anyone as my partner, but you know our family ties. Admit it, sweetie. We deserve each other."

"There are plenty of renown pureblood families," he said, pulling her hand off his. "And that's just in London. The world is your oyster."

"What happened to the Draco who gave Pansy all of his chocolate cookies? Where's the Draco who always gave Pansy flowers from his mother's garden?"

"That was when we were kids, Parkinson. Now there's only a Draco who wants to be left alone."

Parkinson slipped her sleeping robe off her shoulder and flipped her hair with her fingers. Was this her way of seducing him?

"Draco, don't you want a girlfriend?"

"I'll have one when I've met the right person."

"You can't choose your partner for yourself, you know. Everyone has to go through your father's permission."

"I find eligible women attractive," he said. "You, are not on the list."

"Me? Not on the list? Why Draco, are you trying to hurt my feelings? Your mother would not be happy."

"My mother would not care. Don't talk as if you know my parents." He shoved Parkinson's shoulders.

"Ah, little Draco, you're still so young," she sighed. "Maybe you're just not mature enough. You're still a kid," she said, pinching his nose.

He slapped her hand away from his face. "Don't touch me, you fucking whore."

"Aw, did Draco get mad because I touched him the way his mommy does? That's the Draco we know. Emotional. Passionate. Hot-tempered. Stubborn. A child. Stay like that all you want, but someday you'll have to wake up and realize you have to grow up if you want to inherit your father's throne."

"Imagine all you want, Parkinson. But you're only middle-class. I wouldn't marry you anyways."

She sighed. "Baby Malfoy. Next time I'll teach you how to be a man," she said, fixing his tie. "Go to detention, baby."

Draco went to his room to shower off wherever Parkinson had touched. He checked twice before he entered the common room, and slipped out without saying a word. He saw the mudblood come from the other direction.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said. His voice filled the empty hallway.

"What?" she asked. Draco could not tell if this sweet scent was because she had just showered or if she smelled relatively nicer than Parkinson.

"Did Viktor Krum say anything to you today?" he asked.

"No, not really," she said thoughtfully. "Why do you care?"

"Because I warned him that he shouldn't be talking to filth like you."

"Oh, did it bother him?"

"Yeah, he was shocked and asked me how he could get rid of you."

She rolled her eyes. "And what did you say?"

"I told him that he should pretend to stay as your friend for a while and leave you unexpectedly."

"Well, I guess he's listening to you," she said. "Let's go in, now."

She was in a good mood. He hated it.

The fact that she was blushing that hard over a guy she hardly met meant that she had never received romantic male attention. Not surprising, because once she talks, she repels everyone. Potter and Weasley didn't count because those idiots wouldn't he able to tell a woman and a mannequin apart. Krum would be the first boy to ever have interest in her.

She hummed.

"Shut the fuck up, mudblood," he spat.

That mudblood needed to know her place. How dare she enter Hogwarts. How dare she become top of her class. How dare she flirt with The Viktor Krum. Nobody addressed her obnoxious narcissism because she was friends with The Harry Potter. She became so full of herself because she made a few influential friends. She was surrounded by them, actually, which made her think she herself was influential. Someone had to be a mirror and show her her true worth.

He remembered when his father heard that he had come second place to her, again.

"Draco," he called in the drawing room. He was sitting in his armchair. Draco was never allowed to sit on it. When he began to walk, he unknowingly climbed onto the black, velvet seat. He stood up and traced his fingers along the snake frame. That was when his father first hit him.

"Yes, father?" he said, standing closer to the tea table.

"How was your third year at Hogwarts?"

Draco hesitated for a moment before he answered. "It was good, father."

"Was it?" He said, reading the report card. "I expect you to be the best, Draco," he said. "Your marks are fair enough, but your brother would have done better."

Draco swallowed the urge to talk back. His father always compared him to his non-existant brother. His brother was cold. Rational. Elegant. Reserved.

"But tell me how you have spoiled my family name, year after year, by coming after Miss Granger."

"She cheats," he said. "The professors give her extra marks because she's friends with Harry Potter."

"Then you should have exceeded her by a mile," he snapped. He threw the report card at Draco's face. "Why do you think this bothers me, Draco?"

"Because I lost to a muggle-born," he said with his teeth gritted.

"It is because a peasant got the chance to sit in the king's chair," he said as he lifted his cane. "And took herself for royalty. She became first in her class for three years now, Draco. She thinks she's a true wizard. The actual wizards were idle and let her sit in the king's throne. One of those disappointing wizards is my son. You are an embarrassment to my family."

"It won't happen again, father."

His father rose from his seat and slapped Draco on his right cheek. "It will happen again, because you are a weak, lazy, incompetent, disgrace to my family name," he said. Each word felt like a dagger in Draco's chest.

"Coming after a mudblood," his father spat. "Your brother would have made her leave Hogwarts on the first day."

Draco stayed silent.

"Leave now," his father said. "I have no more business with you."

This year, he wanted to prove himself worthy enough to have his father mention him as a member of "our" family. He wanted the mudblood out of Hogwarts so that he could be king. How dare she think of herself as superior. He needed to destroy her so that his father would finally acknowledge that he had been working and studying his ass off to get perfect marks. He needed to destroy her to become a true Malfoy.

Calling her a mudblood, arguing with her, talking shit about her behind her back, none of those tactics had an effect on her anymore. The weed had grown too much and general pesticides didn't work. To truly ruin her, he would have to tear down what she treasured most. Her friends. Her family. Her grades. Her pride. Her lover. He would strip those things away from her one by one.

Chapter 6. Mudblood

For the first time in her fifteen years of living, Hermione was stuck. She had no idea how to help Harry use the golden egg for his next round.

"Maybe you should boil it," suggested Ron.

She refrained from smacking Ron in the head. "What a brilliant idea," she said.

"Right?" he continued. "Guys, think about it. What's the first thing you do when you see an egg?"

"Fry it," she said.

"Scramble it," Harry said.

"I'm serious, guys," Ron insisted.

Hermione had no clue how Ron could survive classes in Hogwarts. His brothers and sisters were fine, but somehow his genes refused to accept the smart DNA, so he only got half of the brain capacity of his parents. Instead, all he focused on was eating and sleeping. He would have made a great muggle.

"I'm going for a walk," said Harry. "I need to clear my head. And I'm going alone."

"I need to go, too," said Hermione. "I'm meeting a friend."

"Viktor Krum?" asked Ron. "Since when were you two so close?"

"Oh, I don't know, somehow," she brushed it off. "See you later."

Hermione quickly checked the mirror in the common room and fixed her hair. She kept buttoning and unbuttoning the top of her collar because she wanted to look nice but not too revealing. After ten tries, she made a bold attempt and unbuttoned the top button.

"Hey Hermione," said Viktor.

"Hi," she said. "How long were you waiting?"

"Not long. What were you doing?"

It felt like cheating if she talked about Harry's progress in the tournament. "Oh, I was just reading."

"You said reading was one of your hobbies."

"Yeah, and it's probably my only."

"What's your favorite book?" he asked.

"Oh, it's a muggle book. You wouldn't know."

"Tell me about it."

"It's a book called Jane Eyre. It's a story about a girl, Jane, who was raised poorly but grew up to become a beautiful, strong woman."

"Why do you like that book?"

"Jane faces many adversities, but she doesn't conform to what others tell her is right. She decides for herself what is right to do, and she sticks to it."

"And you want to be like her?"

"I try to," she nodded. She didn't tell him that her favorite part was when she finally found a place where she belonged. Before she turned eleven, she was a "strange" kid that parents tell their kids not to be friends with. Her magic was so out of control that she had to be homeschooled. Even at home, her magic only caused trouble. She broke windows every other day, made dishes fly during meals, and her magic conflicted with electricity, so her parents couldn't watch TV when she was around. She stayed locked in her room because she didn't want anyone to get hurt. However, things changed when she received a letter from Hogwarts. It was more than an acceptance letter; it was acknowledgment that, although she was different, she wasn't the only one. But she couldn't tell all of that to Viktor.

"What's your favorite book?" she asked instead.

"I haven't found one yet."

"Oh, do you enjoy reading?"

"I try to," he joked. "I don't have the time. Plus, I don't think I've read a really, heart-touching book, yet. I'm still wandering."

"I guess so, you must be very busy."

"Yeah, but I love what I do. I could spend hours practicing and training and it would feel like fifteen minutes. And since I practice all the time, I get better. I like seeing me improve. Which makes me work harder. Do you see the cycle? I can't imagine my life without Quidditch."

"That's great. It's wonderful to have something you're passionate about."

"And what would that be for you, Hermione?"

"Well, I love studying magic. The subject doesn't matter. I love memorizing new charms, updating my memory with new herbs and potion recipes, studying the stars, learning about history, learning about muggle history in a wizard's perspective, all that. I could stay in the library all day."

"That's productive. I wish I could study like that."

"We all have our differences and our strong points. I'm glad you've found yours. Some people are still lost," she said, thinking of Ron. At least Harry was passionate about defeating You Know Who.

"How was your day today?"

"Well, after breakfast I had class, studied a bit, went to the library, and here I am now. An ordinary day," she said. "Oh, and I have detention soon."

"Ah, detention. The one thing that separates us every time."

"Today's the last day," she sighed. "Finally."

"Do you want me to wait for you? I can take you back to your room."

"You don't have to, really," but her heart fluttered. "I can go on my own."

"Okay then," he said. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," she smiled.

She couldn't wait to tell this to Ginny. He asked her to take her to her room. And her idiot hyperindependent self said no. This was probably the fifth time she ruined her chance with Viktor. Last time, he asked her if she wanted to go on a walk. She said no because she wasn't wearing her cloak and it would be chilly. Ginny scolded her for an hour.

"You're supposed to borrow his cloak if you're cold!" she shouted.

Then he asked her if she wanted to eat dinner with him at his table, and she said no because she thought he was just being nice. Ginny scolded her for another hour.

"Hermione! You need to stop studying useless magic stuff and start reading romance novels!"

Another great chance, ruined. She let out a sigh.

"Mudblood," said Malfoy. He used it as if it was her name.

"Malfoy," she replied. "Let's just get this over with."

But Malfoy played with his wand. He messed up the desks. He scribbled on the floor with chalk.

"What are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Do you remember the contest you mentioned last month? The one that will answer your heart's desire if you win?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "Why?"

"Is the offer still open?"

"What offer?"

"I stop calling you a mudblood and you do the contest with me?"

"Wha- What made you change your mind?"

"I have a heart's desire."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Why should I tell you? Anyways, do we have a deal or not?"

Hermione run her fingers through her hair and thought if this were a good idea. She mentioned the contest out of jest, and extreme anxiety of wasting her time. "What are you going to call me, then? If not mudblood?"

Malfoy thought for a moment. "I won't call you anything. Just 'you.'"

"Well, that's the best option there is," she sighed. "Why did you so suddenly change your mind?"

"Don't ask me about it. And just because we're working together doesn't mean I think of you higher than I used to. You still don't belong in the wizarding world and you're nothing but a speck of dust to me."

"Whatever you say, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes. She definitely did not expect Malfoy to suddenly change. Why was he being civil to her? Why wasn't he insulting her like usual? What devious plan was he up to this time?

"Going once," he said.

If she agreed to do the project with him, would it be betraying her friends? Would secretly working with her friends' arch nemesis ruin their friendship? Absolutely. But if she won... she could wish for whatever she wanted. She could have Malfoy stop calling her mudblood for good. She could destroy bloodline heirarchy in the wizarding world. She could wish for the final defeat of You Know Who.

"Going twice."

She was sure to win. She could do anything she set her mind to. Malfoy was just to fill the group requirement. Anybody could be her partner, but Malfoy was smarter. She could use some of his ideas, and it would facilitate the inventing process. Plus, she could get closer to Malfoy and help him reconcile with Harry. The two could possibly become friends.

"Deal," she said.

When they left the room, Viktor was outside, waiting.

"Viktor! What are you doing here?" she gasped.

"I assumed your 'no' meant 'yes,'" he said. "Good evening, Malfoy."

"Hey," he said. "Goodnight, then." He walked away with Crabbe and Goyle.

"How do you know Malfoy?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know, somehow," he said. "It's late. What took you so long?"

"The classroom was exceptionally messy today."

"I brought you something," he said. He took out a little red box with a ribbon tied to it.

"What is it?" she asked, failing to hide her smile.

"Chocolate, from where I'm from," he said. "I brought it for myself, but I thought you might like it."

"Viktor, you're too sweet," she said. She opened the box and took out a round chocolate ball. It was too sweet for her liking but she was grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you," she said. Blushing uncontrollably.

"I'll take you to your dormitory."

"Oh, you'll get lost. There's a moving staircase that changes directions randomly. Even I get confused sometimes."

"Then this will be my perfect chance to get used to this school's grounds," he said. "I'll use my fading memory from Hogwarts: A History."

"How on earth did you read that book?" she laughed.

Viktor started walking with her. "I loved Dumbledore. I probably have three chocolate frog cards of him. My dream was to come to Hogwarts, but things happened and things changed and I couldn't."

"You know, in my first year, I told everyone that that was my favorite book," she sighed. "I don't know why. Maybe I wanted to look smart."

Viktor laughed. "That's cute. When I was in my first year, I accidentally called one of my professors 'Mom.'"

"That one's bad."

"Yeah, I can't forget it."

"We're almost there," she said. "This is the staircase I was talking about. You can go back, now, really."

"I'd rather spend all night trying to find my way back then say goodbye here."

Hermione felt like a broken robot. This was her first time responding to flirting, and today Viktor was at his peak. "Well, um, okay then."

They went up two flights of stairs, which changed directions immediately after they got off. Hermione had to switch directions four times to finally find the correct corridor that led to the Fat Lady.

"Well, here we are," she said. "Are you sure you can go back alone?"

"Don't worry about it."

"No need to worry, dear," the Fat Lady said. "A blinded knight can spend hours with the stars."

"Okay then," Hermione said. "Goodnight, Viktor."

Viktor brushed his fingers against hers as she was turning around. "Goodnight, Hermione."