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Chapter 2 : All Your Fault
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A week had passed since Draco found Hermione's note. Though it had annoyed him, he abided by it and they only saw each other in class. He watched with ever increasing annoyance, at the longing in Rons eyes. They deserved each other; a blood traitor and a mudblood. One in the same, he thought to himself. Pansy was lolling about beside him, whispering something stupid to Blaise.
"Why do you keep looking at Granger?" Blaise asked, a smile in his eyes. Draco looked at him sharply, sighed, and then dropped his eyes.
"I wasn't looking at her, I was just thinking." Blaise lifted an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging his lips.
"Thinking about Granger, eh?" Blaise snickered and then looked up at Slughorn as he began talking about a potion. Draco couldn't care less for the class now, especially as a stupid old git like Slughorn was teaching it. They were supposed to be brewing the Draught of Living Death, which made Draco think. Maybe he could save the students he had grown affection towards, maybe there didn't have to be a war.
"The only time I think about Granger is when she can't be silent for once, and will answer every question a teacher asks. Seriously, she needs to learn to shut that inane babbling of hers." Draco snapped, and turned to the ingredients. The rest of the class went along in silence, with the soft bubbling of the potions and the occasional sighs of frustration coming from Hermione. Harry kept whispering to her, but she only shook her head and hissed at him. He eventually gave up and continued to make his own potion.
"What's wrong, Draco?" she whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed. He jumped out of it and edged around his bed, trying to put distance between them.
"Draco?" Her voice was hurt, and yet sweetly seductive. "What's wrong?" She slowly climbed off the bed and silently walked towards him, her bushy curls blowing gently around her face. He felt the cool bricks against his back and she moulded her body to his, her hips locking against his narrow hips. He felt her warm skin under his fingers and oh how he wanted her.
"Draco, get up. Pansy is chucking a fit!" Blaise groaned and rolled over, before going back to sleep. His soft snores soon filling the room. Blaise was right, Pansy was in the common room, shrieking and carrying on.
"Pansy, what the Hell is going on?" Draco hissed furiously at her.
"That Granger Mudblood! I'm sick of her!" Her voice raised an octave higher and Draco frowned in annoyance.
"Shut it, Pansy, else Slughorn will come in here. What has Granger done?" Draco grabbed Pansy's elbow and dragged her into the closet.
"She is a filthy little mudblood who needs a good kicking. Apparently she has a thing for something in Slytherin. Can you image?! Millicent just came in and told me. How dare she? That filthy little Mudblood!" Pansy whispered furiously. "She has no right!" She whimpered and Draco just looked at her pathetically.
"You almost woke up the entire dorm because someone has a stupid little crush? Grow up, Pansy! There are more important things in this world than crushes and Houses!" Draco snapped at her and then left the common room. Pansy was more pathetic than once assumed. He headed back to the library, grabbed Wicked and went to the room. He could faintly smell Hermione's perfume, it was lilac and daisies. He inhaled deeply before reading the book, feeling entirely consumed by it. He realised as he sat there, reading an intimate scene between Elphaba and Fiyero, that he was beginning to be in this room more often than his own dorm room.
The sun was just peeking over the mountains when Draco stirred. He had fallen asleep after reading a few chapters and was sprawled almost uncomfortably. His long, narrow legs where stretched out under the low coffee table, with his neck resting on the edge of the couch, his face on a weird angle. But he looked so peaceful, and yet restless. He would frown and then go blank every couple minutes, as if he was having a very odd dream.
"Mr Malfoy?" Madam Pince said sharply, shaking his shoulder. He looked at her, bleary eyed. "Mr Malfoy, it would do you well to leave now." She snapped and wouldn't leave the room until he walked out. He yawned and stretched stifly, almost knocking Hermione over.
"Watch it, Malfoy." She gasped as she righted herself.
"Sorry," He muttered, before realising who he was talking to. He breathed in and could smell her floral perfume.
"If you don't mind," She said, her eyes probing his as she motioned towards the corridor leading to the library.
"Granger, bit early to be reading, isn't it?" He smirked down at her.
"Says you," She snapped, noting the book in his hand. She brushed passed him and he just sighed, such a pain.
*Everything recognizable belongs to J.K Rowling. Lyrics of All Your Fault belongs to You Me At Six
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