Better than me? | Hermione Granger x Reader (GXG) (UNDER EDITING)

|| Formalities

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Blaise, Pansy — meet Y/N," Draco said, gesturing toward her with a casual wave of his hand. "She's from America. Just moved back here with her mother."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Blaise gave a lazy nod from where he lounged in the corner, legs stretched out, voice smooth for an eleven-year-old. "Blaise Zabini."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Pansy, perched beside him, tilted her head with a polite but assessing smile. Her eyes flicked over Y/N's coat, her shoes, her posture — everything. "Pansy Parkinson," she said, holding out her hand.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Y/N offered Blaise a small nod and shook Pansy's hand. "Y/N Thornfield-Crimson."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Crimson?" Pansy repeated, her fingers tightening around Y/N's hand. "As in the Crimsons?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Y/N pulled her hand back and sat down next to Draco on the left side of the compartment. "Unfortunately."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Draco leaned back in his seat. "How are you finding England?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It's fine," Y/N shrugged as she glanced at the pale-haired boy who sat beside her. "It's quite dull, but it's fine."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"That's because you've only gone to London. Filthy place full of Muggles," he said, a hint of disdain curling his lips. "Its only redeeming factor is that everything's there."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Y/N's mouth curved. "If you don't mind the smell of smoke and desperation while you're at it."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Draco snorted. "You get it."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Across from them, Pansy perked up from where she'd been flipping through a Witch Weekly. "You're from America, right?" She asked, her tone teetering between curiosity and condescension. "Is it true they don't even have proper wizarding schools there?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Y/N flicked her eyes toward her. "They do. Ilvermorny."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Pansy wrinkled her nose. "Sounds dreadful."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Y/N leaned back in her seat, her tone as flat as her gaze. "That's what I said about Hogwarts."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Draco let out a laugh before he could stop himself. "You'll do just fine here, Thornfield."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Crimson," Blaise corrected, without looking up from the Chocolate Frog card he was inspecting.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I prefer Thornfield," Y/N corrected back, her gaze still fixed on the passing landscape. The countryside blurred by in streaks of green and gray, raindrops racing each other down the windowpane.