Drarry One Shots and Fluff

Pansmione

Eighth!year I don't usually ship pansyxhermione and Blaisexron but it felt nice to write something different

"He's not having his usual breakfast."

Hermione wanted to slam her head against the table. She'd been awake for less than twenty minutes and Harry had already started talking about Malfoy. "What?"

"He normally has black pudding with his bacon but he's gone for cereal today? Why's he done that?"

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione sighed, resting her cheek on her hand.

Harry let out a sigh, "do you think his hair is a bit messed up? It looks a little messed up. What do you think?"

Hermione knew that, despite his constant questions, he wouldn't hear a word she said. It just went in one ear and out the other.

"There's something wrong with his eyes. Do you think he looks a bit off?"
"Maybe he's feeling ill. He looks very pale, don't you think?"
"Do you think he's done the potions homework? He'll have done it, he's good at potions."
"His handwriting is so nice. Don't you think it's beautiful to look at?"
"When his brow furrows when he's focusing on something... Merlin, 'Mione, he's so pretty."

Hermione almost had to slam her book on top of his head to get his attention, "Harry, if you hadn't noticed. Everyone's left. Lessons are starting."

He let out a sigh with one last glance towards the Slytherin table — where Malfoy had left ten minutes ago — before he nodded and stood up, "sure, what do we have?"

"Potions," Hermione replied with a groan. "With the Slytherins."

Harry couldn't hold back his grin.

The most confusing thing, however, was Harry's opinion on the matter, which Hermione tried to coax out of him again.

"Harry," she asked, gaining his full attention for the first time that day, "what's your opinion on Malfoy?"

"He's a git," he replied instantly, "why'd you ask?"

"Because you were practically drooling over him this morning," she sighed, " 'oh, 'Mione, what type of conditioner does he use in his hair?' I mean, you hate him, but you also really love to talk about him."

Harry shrugged, "just because his personality is a lost cause doesn't mean I can't admire him from afar. He is beautiful, isn't he?"

"Don't know," Hermione admitted, "I don't tend to look at him."

***

Meanwhile, Pansy was experiencing a similar fate, "Merlin!" She shouted, "Draco, would you please shut up about Perfect Potter for just one second?"

"But he's not eating," Draco spoke, a frown on his face as he reached for the cereal, "why isn't he eating?"

Pansy groaned, "I don't know. Why does he do anything? Who cares?"

"I care," Draco frowned into his cereal, a food he only ate when he was feeling down, "maybe he isn't- hey, where are you going?"

"Away from you," Pansy called out, stomping out of the hall and leaving her half-finished breakfast behind her, choosing to go and visit Blaise in the hospital wing before potions.

As she strolled through the door, she raised an eyebrow at Weasley, who was lying looking sorry for himself in a hospital bed after a very hostile quidditch match which involved him being forcefully shoved off his broom and dangling from the goal until his finger slipped and he broke multiple bones in both legs as soon as he hit the ground. Ouch.