Dramione One Shots

29. go on and fool me

This fic is an art collab with dara_art. It was posted as 2 chaps on AO3 because it's long af. So brace yourself for a long one heehee (20K words). Rated E for explicit content.

important to note:
- this is a NO VOLDEMORT AU, hence they are in seventh year, hermione isn't close with harry and ron, and things are just generally different as a result

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Part I - Autumn / Winter

September

It took every ounce of Hermione's self-restraint not to reach for her wand and point it beneath Malfoy's smug chin when he sat across from her in the library. Elbows on the table, the tip of his green and silver tie inching dangerously close to the wet ink on her parchment.

Hermione drew her assignment nearer and deadpanned, "Are you lost?"

He grinned in that devilish way she'd seen on multiple occasions, as if he was in on a joke nobody else was privy to. He tapped his fingers on the table. Long and pale, adorned with two shiny silver rings. Index and middle finger. "I've got a proposition for you."

She blinked at him, waiting for the punchline, then stifled a laugh when it didn't arrive. "No, thanks."

"Come, Granger. Surely you're curious about why I'm here."

"Not remotely. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in the middle of finishing this essay and you're making me lose my train of thought."

"Because I'm such a handsome distraction?" he goaded in an insufferable drawl.

She set her quill to the parchment, ignoring him.

Undeterred, he removed a slip of paper wedged between two of her textbooks. "Have you got a partner yet?"

She snatched it out of his hand. "Go away."

His smug grin slipped. "Look. I just need two minutes."

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Be my girlfriend for the school year."

She gaped at him. "Have you been Polyjuiced? Quick, tell me which arm Buckbeak mangled in third year."

He shot her a dry look and rubbed his elbow, as if remembering. "Left. And no, I haven't been Polyjuiced. I'm serious. Sort of. I just need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. It doesn't have to be real."

"Why?" She was dying to know why the boy who'd tormented her since they were eleven was suddenly keen on pretending that they were dating.

"Oh, you know, just trying to get out of a betrothal my parents are roping me into. Nothing major." He rolled his eyes. Then snapped his gaze to hers with a quicksilver grin. "Hence my plan."

Hermione was speechless. Not because of his ridiculous proposition, which was unsettling, but because he actually seemed irritated by his family. The boy who pulled the 'my father will hear about this' card every chance he got seemed jaded by the very people he'd admired all his life.

She sat back, really looking at him. Usually he was scowling or sneering at her, but even without the malice in his eyes, she felt a different energy emanating off him. He was taller and a bit broader since sixth year, but it wasn't the natural growth spurt that stood out to her. His hair was long and messy, curling around his ears and falling over his eyes constantly so he kept having to flick his head to see properly. None of that slick hair gel to keep it tidily in check. He had left the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, and his tie was loose and lopsided. He seemed undone.