The Hoax (Dramione Story)

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“Uh . . . let’s just ask each other twenty questions, each. That’s six.”

“We’re basically playing twenty questions.” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “And you have three.”

“Uh, sure.” Draco said and finally sighed. “I don’t like flowers.”

“You can’t seriously not like any flower.”

“Oh, you’re right! I forgot that you weren’t allowed to hate flowers. My apologies, it seemed to have slipped my mind.” Draco mocked her with a frown.

“You don’t have to be so rude about it.” Hermione said with a glare and groaned. “Just ask your next question then!”

“What’s your deepest darkest secret that you’ve never told anyone?” Draco asked in a serious tone after a while.

Hermione felt her body tense up as she felt shivers crawl down her spine. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“You have to.”

“It’s not a rule.”

“It is now.”

Hermione sighed and stared at him. “I don’t want to. It’s way too personal.”

Draco stared at Hermione for a long time and finally sighed. “Okay, fine.”

“Another time.” Hermione said quietly. “I’ll tell you another time.” She cleared her throat and immediately started to ask him a different question, “What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

Draco thought about it and looked up at the ceiling as he started to think hard. “Favorite childhood memory?” He asked and sighed. “Well, that’s easy. My favorite childhood memory was when my father would leave the manor for a few weeks and I’d be home with my mother.” He shared and slightly started to smile but since he was looking away from Hermione, she wasn’t so sure. “We would always walk around the garden and she’d tell me all these flower names and—“ Draco stopped himself before he got too caught up in the memory. He awkwardly cleared his throat and decided not to move his head. “What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

Hermione was confused. He had said he hated flowers but he seemed happy when he was talking about his mother and the garden. She shook the thought away and slightly grinned. “My favorite childhood memory was when my parents got me my very own library when I turned eight. I was still so young but . . . goodness.” She sighed dreamily as she slowly drifted off into her happy memory. “I loved the feeling that I got when I walked inside and just being surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of books. The smell of old books was just so attracting and I literally lived in there. My parents would have to yell at me to get out of the library and they would complain about how I smelled like books.” She said with a soft giggle at the memory. “One time, I—“ She suddenly stopped herself and saw Draco’s face for the first time since she started talking. “Oh, I’m sorry. Uhm, what was your worst childhood memory?”

“I guess some things never change. You’re still a bookworm and frankly, you do smell like old books, no offense.” He said and hid a grin. He had looked over at her when she talked and saw how happy she was. She didn’t even notice he was staring at her the whole time since she was already in her own little land. “My worst childhood memory?” He stated the question to himself and his face grew dark. “Well, my worst childhood memory was when my father came back.” He said with bitterness as he grew angry just thinking about the man he hated most. “What about yours?” He quickly asked.