Velleity | Dramione

VIII - Reputation

Hermione hated every bone in her body. Especially her face. And especially the way she had to distort it to look remotely pleasant in Malfoy's presence. It wasn't that Draco was gross or disgusting. (In her opinion, frankly, he was). But, it was that her face morphed in disgust on reflex at the sight of him.

She hadn't worked up the nerve to go up to him yet even though Ginny nagged her constantly that the sooner the better. In all fairness, Hermione was not expecting the plan to work at all and besides, Draco Malfoy was her worst enemy. (Next to Voldemort, of course). 

Their relationship wasn't supposed to change. They were supposed to stay enemies. Period. It was symbiosis...but where neither benefitted in any scenario. 

Hermione didn't like the thought of being nice and she'd run through every possible scenario in her head. He would either (1) completely humiliate her, (2) think she was crazy and avoid her at all costs—which would totally ruin her plan to gather information—or (3) figure out her entire scheme right then and there.

She knew that was the most unlikely of the three—he wasn't that smart. The first two, however, sounded plausible, and that terrified her. She couldn't afford to screw this up—for the sake of this school and her reputation. 

She decided that today was the day. There wasn't any more time to be wasted. The most logical thing to do would be to start with an apology. Hermione couldn't think of anything to apologize for—but that was just her pride talking. 

She could list a few off the top of her head. The first, dating back to third year when she'd punched his stupid face... and the most recent, was nearly a week ago when he'd first arrived and she tried to murder him. In her defense... she had none. There was no good reason to murder him, and she knew she'd tell him just that once she saw him. Hermione was not excited.

With the thought in mind, Hermione wandered down the long hallway to Potions, wondering when she'll get the chance to talk to Draco. She'd just reached the classroom when someone grabbed her arm. She turned, expecting to see Ginny, but was surprised to find Draco standing there, hand on her arm and not one trace of an arrogant smirk on his face. 

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, and Hermione looked around wondering if he'd mistaken her for someone else. She heard him sigh and she turned back to face him. "Yes, I'm talking to you, Granger. Don't look so surprised."

"Can you blame me?" she said without thinking. Her hand curled into a fist on instinct and she reminded herself that she was to be nice to him. That meant no sarcasm of any sort. 

Mostly because he was too dense to understand, of course. 

She turned back to him and studied his face. He'd pulled on a sincere expression and looked as though he actually wanted to talk to her. Hermione felt her eyebrows pull together in scrutiny as she continued to study him. She wished she could read minds just then. Legilimency was not her strong suit, and she was sure he'd pummel her to the ground the second she reached for her wand. 

Hermione composed herself and stared into his stormy eyes. "What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked, forcing levity into her voice as if they were just two friends having a conversation. Like this was normal.

Draco's eyebrows lifted as if he hadn't expected her to be so...receptive. Hermione mimicked his expression and tilted her head, telling him to get along with his comment. He cleared his throat and she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down along his slender neck. He was nervous, she noticed. 

Her frown deepened. Something was wrong. "Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?" she asked.

Hermione didn't know it was possible for one's eyebrows to jump so high onto one's forehead, yet here stood Draco doing just that. For a moment he looked taken aback. "I—What?"