Snakepit

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger had only ever had two interactions with Draco Malfoy.

The first had taken place three years ago when the two of them had been freshly admitted to the prestigious Hawthorn Academy for specialized government training. Hawthorn wasn't a necessary step to work for the national government—many government employees found work right out of college—but with Hawthorn came a certain amount of respect and status. Better jobs, better pay.

Hermione had been accepted at Hawthorn after four years of hard work and intense dedication at one of the most impressive universities in the country. Her resume itself had been enough to earn her a spot at the academy, but she had aced all of the notoriously long and grueling interviews too. Her background check had turned up spotless, her university grades were perfect. She had come from a modest family and her success was self-made, forged by an iron will. Hermione Granger was a name that all of the government departments wanted to find in their directory after her graduation from the two-year program at Hawthorn. Like everything else in her life though, Hermione had a clear plan: She would work in the Department of Intelligence and nowhere else.

Draco, on the other hand, was an unexpected choice for Hawthorn. Everyone thought so. Sole heir to the Malfoy's family name and billion-dollar fortune, everyone had expected him to work under his father at their wildly successful investment firm, with Draco eventually taking over the company himself. Maybe Draco had used the shock value of this unexpected decision to get himself into Hawthorn, maybe his family had pulled some strings and handed out a little money. No one knew for sure, but Draco's overall disinterest in the Academy's training courses and smug arrogance over the next two years seemed to point towards some sort of foul play. It wouldn't be the first time the Malfoys used their money and status to bend the rules.

Hermione hadn't known any of this, however, the first time she met Draco. She probably would have benefitted from some sort of knowledge about him and the Malfoys' somewhat famous presence in the capital city, Ravaina, before she moved there for Hawthorn, but she had been blissfully unaware.

That was why, when a tall man with white-blond hair and icy gray eyes asked to borrow a pen from her during a particularly boring Government Policy lecture, she shrugged and handed one over. She forgot about the pen and forgot about the one who borrowed it.

Hermione's second interaction with Draco had taken place over a year later, when the Hawthorn students were beginning to prepare for their end-of-program examinations and government placement tests. Anxiety had been thick in the air and stress often caused good moods to suddenly snap into bad moods. A Hawthorn student who didn't pass their final examinations was about as good as a person who hadn't attended the academy at all, and a Hawthorn student who didn't get placed into the department that they wanted was unhappy and regretful. Naturally, the training studios, libraries, and all of the little nooks and crannies of Hawthorn were filled with students trying to perfect their skills, memorize policies, and invent ways to stand out. Everything was a competition, each overachiever trying to outdo the next.

By this time, Hermione had learned more than enough about Draco Malfoy. His name was often accompanied by a roll of the eyes, a scoff, or a frown tinged with exasperation and annoyance. Hermione did not like Draco Malfoy on principle. She didn't like the way that he was treated like a celebrity after accomplishing absolutely nothing interesting or impressive on his own. She didn't like the way that he seemed to lack ambition and did nothing to convince anyone otherwise. She hated the way that he smirked at the female instructors and the way that something velvety and smooth would work its way into his voice when he spoke to them. She'd even go as far as to say that she hated his family because their level of wealth was absolutely sickening.

Oh yes, Hermione Granger had heard plenty about Draco Malfoy by this point. Rumors and stories about his exclusive parties in his penthouse in downtown Ravaina spread faster than should be possible. Those who were invited couldn't stop talking about them and those who didn't get invited could only try and play off their jealousy with nonchalance. Hermione lay somewhere outside of these two categories: she neither wanted to hear about nor attend one of these events. Parties aside, it was a little harder to ignore the sleek, dark cars that chauffeured Draco around or the perfectly tailored outfits that he liked to sport to class. On the days he dressed up, Hermione always seemed to be dressed in the most threadbare, baggy outfit imaginable. That got on her nerves a bit because, really, no one should be able to look as good as Draco Malfoy in a gray cashmere sweater.