Dramione One Shots

6. Arctic Wolf

This story includes and was inspired by art by dara_art on IG/Tumblr be sure to check her out because she is super talented. She gave me permission to include her art in my story, enjoy!

This is a Durmstrang Draco fic, he is older than Hermione here and it's set during Goblet of Fire.

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Draco had read the same line in his textbook three times. Restless energy churned in his chest, zinging through his limbs to the very tips of his fingers. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap he fidgeted. Brimming with boredom, he asked, "Want to take laps around the pitch?"

Viktor didn't reply, keenly fixated on something behind Draco's shoulder.

"Hello?" Draco waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Earth to Krum? Laps? Pitch?"

Viktor blinked. "Hm?"

Curiosity burning, Draco spared a glance behind him. A mousy girl sat in front of a latticed window, a chessboard of books sprawled before her, each open on a different page. She shoved one away and replaced it with another, scrawling furious notes, then repeated the cycle.

"Her?" Draco asked. "Really?"

"I like her focus," Viktor said. "Every time I see her, she's completely awake. Does that make sense?"

He shrugged. "I'm awake, mate. Let's go riding."

Viktor's brow furrowed. "You don't have a poetic bone in your body."

"And you do?" He snorted.

"Look at her. She actually cares about what she's doing."

"I didn't pin you for a bloke who fancied bookish types."

"I don't," he acquiesced. "But she has fire. I can tell."

Draco looked at the girl again. Smirking, he did what Draco Malfoy did best. "Hey, you there!"

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Hermione was crossing a 't' on her parchment when a voice shattered the silence of the library, startling her so thoroughly that the t looked more like a positive slope on a line graph. Lips puckered, she looked up to shush the offending table and saw two Durmstrang boys staring at her.

Not just any Durmstrang boys.

Draco Malfoy and Viktor Krum.

Why were they looking at her like that? Viktor seemed mortified and Draco looked... mean.

He's a blood supremacist, you know. Parvati's voice rang through her ears. Wealthier than everyone in our class put together. Heard his family hates Muggleborns.

She pointed a finger to her chest and mouthed me?

Draco nodded, smiling at her. But it wasn't a pleasant smile. It reminded her of when Crookshanks used to catch a whiff of Scabbers last year. What could he possibly want with her? "Join us for a second?" Draco asked in perfect posh English.

She considered ignoring him but knew she'd kick herself for it later. No matter what Parvati had told her, two attractive boys were calling her over to speak to them, one of whom was participating in the Triwizard Tournament.

Pushing her seat back, she rounded her table and strolled over. Draco pulled out the chair beside him and patted the seat. "Sit down." It was more a demand than a question.

Hermione didn't sit. "Yes?"

A flicker of amusement passed over his eyes, cold as a lake in December. "What's your name?"