[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 1 : Spark Without A Flame
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 4|
Background: Font color:
A few simple glances are all that it took for Hermione Granger to feel a sort of electricity in her stomach whenever her chocolate-coloured eyes and Draco’s platinum gray eyes would meet. Whenever their eyes met, her hatred towards him decreased into nothingness; her hatred did not exist. His eyes showed comfort and safety, and compassion and most of all, love. But how could he – Draco Malfoy – be capable of such a pure emotion? Surely, he was not. Her inner romantic self was sorely mistaken on her fantasies of Draco hugging her to his broad chest, and murmuring gentle words in her ears that were capable of turning her body into jelly.
It had gotten to the point to Hermione finding new pathways in corridors to get to the common places that she went, to avoid Malfoy’s mesmerizing gaze and that butterfly feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her feelings were nothing more than a rebellion of her own feelings to her morals, she didn’t want to feel anything neutral towards the Slytherin – she should keep her current hatred towards him, and keep it that way. Draco Malfoy is nothing more than a manipulative, scheming ferret that did not deserve to have any nice thoughts thinking about him.
“Hermione!” A masculine voice, that Hermione recognised as Ron, growled, “Have you been listening to anything I have said this past minute?”
“I – what?” Hermione stuttered, her eyebrows furrowing.
Ron growled again, he’d been growling quite a bit lately, and stormed off. Hermione sighed, realising that she had been walking with Ron when she saw him and she must have stopped in her tracks as she saw him, and of course, Ron was blabbing on about some problem that weren’t even close to problems. Or perhaps this time, he was rambling on about something that wasn’t him not knowing if he made the right meal choice at breakfast earlier on. Gosh, Ron could be such a drama-king. Hermione wondered what Harry and Ron would think if they knew about her slight infatuation with their enemy, she knew they would laugh hysterically at first thinking that for once Hermione was making a funny but when they realised the seriousness, they would be furious and most probably ditch her as a friend. Sighing, Hermione grumbled to herself, this dilemma was freaking her out and she was not used to this. She was always in control of herself. This was why she needed friends who were females. Males weren’t good at feeling talk; it seemed that males were frightened of emotion.
As Hermione walked, by herself now that Ron had stormed off, her mind quickly wandered back to Draco, much to her dismay. Questions were rising into thought, she wondered if he felt the same way, if he could feel the chemistry between them, or if he was confused about this situation. She doubted it; he probably scowled in disgust whenever their eyes met, after all Hermione did not pay any attention to the rest of his face other than his beautiful gray eyes. A boy from such an upbringing as his own is surely incapable of thinking something positive about someone like her; to him she was seen as filth, a dirty rotten mud blood as they would say. His family is full of prejudice and hatred towards anyone who wasn’t a pureblood or did not follow their stereotypical lives. Draco would not be any different, Hermione was sure of that. She was stupid to think he was any different from Lucius Malfoy.
It wasn’t long until Hermione trotted through the Gryffindor common room into her own dormitory. She peeked inside to ensure her roommates weren’t home, and once she found the coast was clear she fell face-first into her bed and groaned sulkily. Why couldn’t she be emotionless? She hated being this confused.
Draco scowled at the letter that had just arrived a few moments ago, from his dearest father Lucius Malfoy. Who, as usual, went straight to the juicy bits and straight out yelled at him. Lucius cared for nothing about Draco’s well-being; he only cared for the reputation of the Malfoy name. Of course, having that Hermione Granger beat him with her intelligent grades made Lucius look bad, because his only child could not get higher marks than that ‘filthy mud blood’ as Lucius said. The only parental love that he got was from his mother, Narcissa, but even then she followed Lucius’ footsteps most of the time, due to his father’s stubborn attire. Narcissa did, however, always made an effort into Draco’s well-being and made sure he knew that she cared for him enough for both Lucius and herself, but sometimes that was not enough.
Draco tried so hard to please Lucius but nothing ever worked. He tried his best in his studies and tried his best to win every Quidditch game that Slytherin was in, an attempt to get attention from Lucius, but nothing pleased the silver-haired old man. No matter how much he studied, he never got high enough grades to compete with other students, it didn’t matter if he passed (which he always did) it only mattered if he topped those who were inferior to him: namely, Hermione Granger. That girl was a bookworm, and did nothing but study and learns new things. She wouldn’t give up her intelligence if he offered her a million galleons. He just needed the motivation to study and the inspiration to want to do better. The way Draco figured, he didn’t need Hogwarts grades as all he wanted to do when he was older was play on the Falmouth Falcons team.
Sighing, once again, Draco got up and decided to get some air. Grabbing his broomstick from underneath his bed, he escaped the isolating Slytherin commons and into the many corridors of Hogwarts. Perhaps, flying around the Quidditch pitch would clear his mind. He ignored his house mates greetings and Crabbe and Goyle calling for him to wait for them, he just kept on walking, just until he spotted Granger walking towards him. Their eyes met which had been happening a lot quite recently. He couldn’t help but feel his stomach churn, a feeling he could not decipher the meaning of. Maybe it was the immense hatred he had for her, for always beating him and ruining any chance of his father loving him. He wasn’t sure if this was a reliable thought because he figured if his theory was true, his stomach would have felt like this prior to their glances towards one another.
Draco didn’t smile at Hermione, nor did he remove the scowl that seemed to have permanently implanted itself on his face as soon as the familiar owl of Lucius Malfoy tapped on his window. He doubted she noticed his hateful face; she seemed to be in a deep hypnosis about something while staring at him. She confused him, that girl. She was thrown out of her entrancement by Ron who looked agitated about something, but Draco couldn’t care less about that boy. He was scum, just as his family said so. Averting his gaze from Hermione, Draco looked straight ahead and continued walking as if he was on a sort of mission. In a way he was, he was on a mission to get away from the crowd.
Draco sighed, as he trudged through the spacious greenery that had always welcomed. Hopping onto his broom, he kicked the grass and his body started to lift into the air. Swerving through the clear sky as fast as he felt was necessary, he allowed his mind to wander slightly, just so he could keep focused on where he was flying. His thoughts were of Hermione Granger and their unexpected glances. It wasn’t uncommon for Draco to feel some sort of resentment towards Hermione Granger, but what he found was that he had not been feeling resenting towards her lately, but the complete opposite. He had been feeling drawn towards her, like he wanted to get to know her and perhaps, even become friends. The idea of him and Hermione being friends made him want to laugh hysterically and pound on the floor with his fist. The only problem with the want to pound his fist onto the floor would mean he’d have to actually be on the ground to do that. He’d look even crazier if he started pounding his fist onto thin air.
The way her chocolate eyes stared into him like she was staring into his vulnerable soul made him shiver, he didn’t want to be seen as vulnerable. He felt with every piercing look that she gave him; she had figured out parts of him that no one knew that not even he knew. He couldn’t say that she wasn’t beautiful, because she was, even with her big teeth and bushy hair, Draco could easily put her in his top five girls of whom he found to be attractive. Of course, he would never tell anyone that, it was not socially acceptable for Draco to be thinking of Hermione in such ways. He was supposed to hate her, but he only really hated her because of who he was and who his family were. He didn’t really have much choice on which his family chose for Draco to hate.
Hermione groaned, awaking from her deep slumber. Her thoughts of Draco had evaporated from her mind, and her head was finally clear. She turned her head and the red numbers on her clock indicated that it was just over eight in the morning. Great, Hermione grumbled, I missed breakfast!
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Lavender chirped, happily. She was sitting in the middle of her bed while she painted her nails and Parvati plaited her hair.
“Morning.” Hermione spoke, groggily.
Getting up from her bed, she stretched and quickly escaped the room to go to the bathroom. She got back and changed into fresh robes, and muttered that she was going to the library to study for a bit. Her roommates didn’t seem interested in her.
Leaving the Gryffindor common room, Hermione quickly made her way to the library, which her parchment and textbooks in her hand. The library was a place that Hermione loved being in at all times. She had spent a great amount of time of her Hogwarts years in this room, and that wasn’t going to change. Sitting down, Hermione opened her parchment and started writing notes for Professor Snapes’ potions essay. She was getting engrossed in the essay that she hadn’t noticed someone sitting across the table from her, until he coughed. Hermione glanced up, shocked to see who it was. Hermione composed herself as the thoughts returned from the night before, with that in mind, Hermione made sure not to look into his eyes.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” Hermione spat, her voice shaky. She hoped he didn’t notice.
Draco shrugged, and glanced around as if he were ashamed of what he was going to say. “I need a favour.” He stated, paused for a second and lowered his voice. “I need you to tutor me.”
AUTHORS NOTE: This is the first story I have written in ages and I hope you guys like it. Please review and give ideas of what you’d like to see happen. I know it’s probably not the best in grammar, but I have yet to find a editor *hint hint*. Anyway, please review and criticism is welcome.
Other Similar Stories
Near To You
by Blinded b...
In Too Deep