Cursed | Draco Malfoy

Two

The rusted, cold September winds blew in Hermione's face as she made her way to History of Magic class, along-side Ginny Weasley.

"I just can't believe him," muttered Hermione. "Not even 2 days into the school year and Malfoy's already called me mud-blood, and gotten under my skin." She grunted.

It was unbelievable, Hermione had delt with witches and wizards hating on her before simply because of how intelligent she was — because Merlin forbid a muggle-born should be top of the class.

But something about the blonde-headed idiot that infuriated her with a rage she hadn't been used too.

Ginny flipped her red hair, "Malfoy only wants trouble, Hermione. Blimey, Ive heard his father  hasn't been the brightest around him either this year," she chuckled. "Even his old man's sick of him."

Hermione managed a small smile to appear on her lips as she straightened her posture, turning the corner and entering the class.

—-

"Alright, Alright — settle down! Settle down!" Professor Binns bellowed, as Hermione gracefully took a seat next Ginny.

"Everyone take out your textbooks and turn to page 269. We haven't got all day, now."

Grunting as she took out her heavy text-book, her chestnut eyes gazed around the room — until they landed on a pair of grey eyes.

His eyebrows rose as a smirk graced on his lips.

She grimaced, rolling her eyes — ripping her gaze from his instantly.

Ignore him, Hermione. Her brain sputtered, as she inhaled a deep breath — and began reading out her text-book.

——

As she walked throughout the dark, stoned hallways of Hogwarts — her two best-friends ran up to each of her sides.

"Have you heard?" Ron mumbled, as she furrowed her eyebrows — looking over at him.

"What?" She asked.

Harry sounded almost out of breath, "There's a new professor, apparently she's an absolute twat." He spat, receiving a small smile from Hermione.

"Surely she can't be that horrible. What's her name?"

"Umbridge." Ron whispered, as if he's scared someone will hear him.

She scoffed, "surely she can't be as bad as Snape." Almost as if on cue, a short lady decked out in all pink — with a forced, almost pained smile on her face walked past the trio, not sparing a glance in their direction - but stopping in-front of them, preventing them from walking any-further.

"Miss Granger," she spat devilishly, her voice was high-pitched but with a dark end to it. Hermione made a face but quickly masked it,  "yes, professor?"

She turned to them, the stilled — forceful smile planted on her round face. "Fix your collar, Miss Granger. You're a distraction with that much skin showing." Before Hermione even had a chance to speak, Umbridge took out her wooden wand — with a swish of it, her collar was tightened and fixed.

She gasped at the sudden movement, as Umbridge put her wand away. "Do make sure to not let this happen again, Miss Granger — or there will be consequences." She made a thin smile, with her falsely nice voice she puts on before continuing to tread down the hall way, her all-too-small for her high-heels clanking in the distance as she watched her in disbelief.

As soon as she left, Hermione lifted her hand to her collar — loosening it. "Did that really just happen?" Harry stammered, as Ron grimaced.

Just by the first impression, she could tell his Professor would be a pain to work with. "Godric," Hermione bellowed, "I think she is worse than Professor Snape."

——-

Hermione pulled a chair out of a seating desk in the large, quiet library of Hogwarts. Let out an un-weaving breath as she began to open her textbooks.

She thought back to her parents, and her past. Of-course she had muggle parents, and she had never been ashamed of it before — Malfoy made it feel like the worst thing to have sometimes. Granted, after getting name-called something for so long, it begins to lose its meaning and value. Although at times, her guard would let her down — and it would hurt like it did back in second and first year.

She was an only child, and her parents loved her dearly. Clearly something Malfoy couldn't say the same for..

Almost as if he was summoned, the blonde-haired, grey eyed boy had walked up to her — a sly devilish smirk plastered on his stupid chiseled face as he sat down — hands folded.

She let out a suppressed breath, but she wouldn't falter. She wouldn't let Malfoy see how annoyed she was. "Hey, mud-blood. Where's that scar-head and weasel-bee? Aren't they always around you like puppets?" He taunted.

She kept her autumn-eyes down-casted at the textbook in-front of her, as she flipped through the pages, trying to seem unbothered by his pestering.

"Oh?" From the corner of her eye, she saw his eyebrows rise — "grown a spine, have we? Ignoring me won't do anything." He spat.

She still hasn't said anything, her curls frizzled around her face — as she felt the anger course through her. She wouldn't crack. She couldn't.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Always thought you were strange, — don't even get me started on those filthy blood-traitors of yours."

That's when she snapped.

She slammed her textbook, and stared up into his piercing eyes — her auburn eyes held fiery hatred for the boy sitting in-front of her.

She stood up, "you take that back, Malfoy."

She looked down at him, who had been leaning back in his chair — manspread as he spun and played with a silver ring he once had on his finger. His thick eyelashes casted a hazy shadow on his cheekbones, as he smirked up at her.

"Take what back?" His grin just stretching further, as his long legs took him to his feet — looming over Hermione, making her feel incredibly small.

"What's your bloody problem, Malfoy? Is it your pathetic dim-witted father? Surely he's probably already given up on you and your stupid games. Or is it your lack of basic human etiquette?" She bellowed, eyes not leaving his — almost to a show a sign of courage or bravery.

His face only slightly changed at Hermione's audacity to mention his father — but he quickly masked it, not wanting to seem like he'd been affected by any of her words.

His eyebrows furrowed, but the smirk still stayed. He hummed, "using that Gryffindor bravery, are we?"

She grimaced, "you're foul, Malfoy. You're cruel. Clearly you have nothing better to do then wasting your time away trying to get me riled up. Seriously, Malfoy. These dumb games of yours should've ended a long time ago."

She took a step back, as she began to realize their faces were all too close. Being that close to Malfoy feels like a fire — waiting to burn her. It was something she simply couldn't handle.

"Obviously, you're still a pathetic child in need of validation." With that, she grabbed the textbook off of the library table. Without another word, she took off — anger and fury burned with every step she took.

Hermione was always very hot-tempered. She wouldn't really consider herself that much of a hot-head, although Ron and Harry probably would immediately disagree. But, how could she not? Especially when this pathetic most likely soon-to-be death eater keeps taunting her like little kid would on a playground?

It was barbaric, she thought — as she marched her way to the common room.

——-