Draco has always had his eyes on Hermione, in fact, he's had his eyes on all three of them – the gleaming golden trio. Potter's loyal sidekicks, always sticking their heads where they are unwanted. Always undermining him and snatching glory from right under his nose.
Suddenly, Hermione turned to glance straight at Draco. This wasn't a casual look around, she turned with the sole intention to catch his eyes. Usually, he would go back to what he was doing, pretending that she was just something in the line of his sight, but this time, he lowered his head and glared back until she returned her eyes to the front of the class.
The three of them made him sick to this stomach. They were insufferable, an annoyance, a constant thorn in his side. Needless to say, her being at the top of the class always drew his ire. If she had just stayed second best to purebloods – as it should be – it wouldn't irk him as much. But as it was, she took his rightful spot and shamed him with her lowly, muggle-born status. And she was a girl, to boot! How embarrassing, to be bested by the dregs... After years and years of competing with her from the sidelines, he began to question everything his parents told him.
First, it began with their prejudice towards mudbloods. If they were so unpure, why do they channel magic as easily – if not better – than purebloods? Hermione has proven, time and time again, that muggle-borns are more than capable and they are able to persevere through even the harshest conditions.
It was frustrating. He thought his pure bloodline would ensure him fame and popularity. But why is it while he was stuck with the two goons he had hoped were enough, did Hermione breeze past with the one friend he coveted?
Then, he began to compare the friendships he had built with the ones she had. Crabbe and Goyle would never dare cross him, whether they were too intellectually challenged or if they had been instilled by their fathers to follow Malfoys was a blurred line. Yet she had Potter and even Weasley to keep her on her toes, and no matter how fiercely they fought, they never gave up on one another.
No.
Clearly, Crabbe and Goyle didn't feel the same loyalty towards him as the Gryffindors felt towards Hermione. It was apparent in the ways they seemed thick as thieves behind his back. It was like the both of them spoke a language Draco could not – and up until now had not wanted to – understand or join. Not that they were cruel to him, but merely because they always seemed to be one step behind him. They had a deeper friendship with each other than they did with him and maybe he should be content that he was a leader worth following, even if those followers were blind sheep. However, he could not stop wondering... Who in Slytherin could he truly call a friend?
He leaned back on his chair and let his eyes wander towards Blaise Zabini who had just joined the Quidditch team. They haven't really had a chance to bond before as he was intensely aggressive towards muggle-borns and what he calls blood traitors, verbally abusing them past the point of fun.
Theodore Nott sat in the far corner of the room and would never be Draco's first choice to speak with as he was a little odd, he couldn't associate with such an oddball any more could Harry alienate that joke of a Gryffindor, Neville. However, he had little choice but to treat Theodore with a cordial level of decency as their fathers were friends and he was alright once you got past his aversion to joining anyone or anything. Perhaps it was better to be a loner in Slytherin.
The girls were at Pansy's disposal and neither of them fawned over him like she did. Probably because Pansy has forbidden any of them to approach Draco. And it didn't bother him. He wanted nothing to do with either of them, although he does holiday with Daphne Greengrass and her family. But still, she felt more like a distant cousin than a true friend. Pansy made sure it stayed that way, by keeping her thumb firmly on her little posse. She imagines that Draco and her would make a handsome couple and fancied him for his status and looks. At one point of his life, that would have been enough. He would have been proud of it, even. But now it brought on a little wave of disgust.
It was then he realised the only thing shared between every member of their house was a strong dislike for their rivals in Gryffindor and their desire to be right and glorious. There was no camaraderie in Slytherin or any love lost.
Feeling slightly mutinous and displeased at the thought, Draco directed his gaze at Hermione who was ever so diligent. Although all he could see was the back of her head, he could imagine her face. Eyes alert and unblinking, mouth set determinedly and... Has she done something with her hair? But that didn't matter, not to him, not at that particular moment. What he was thinking would have made Ronald Weasley dissolve into a fit of giggles before punching him in the face.
How would it feel to be friends with someone like her?
"Great work, Hermione!" Professor Selgentar praised and chirped, "This essay on The Dark Arts of Merfolk is more than Newt level! Keep it up."
"Only because she has an unhealthy obsession towards them." Malfoy could not help it. All those years of acting out to get what he wants has left him with an unhealthy practice of communicating. He had muttered those words but apparently not softly enough because Pansy erupted with menacing laughter and Hermione turned a bright pink.
"What was that?" Selgentar asked sharply, whipping her dark curls around to face Draco who was speechless at the sudden rebuttal he did not expect.
"I–"
"If you spent half as much time in the library as on your hair, you might receive a grade higher than Exceeds Expectations, Mr. Malfoy." She laid his essay on his desk with a flick of her wand. He gripped the parchment in his hand and crumpled it as his brows furrowed. He's never had a teacher talk back at him like that before. And yet, deep inside, he knew that he only had himself to blame. But at that moment he brushed it off as she was a new professor and didn't yet know who he was.
"I'm sure my father would be pleased to hear that–"
"You may tell him that I do not care who your father is. Do not pretend you are important, or I might decide you need a demonstration in the Dark Arts so you may properly defend yourself." She took her wand out and Draco's eyes widened. Not again!
"Thank you, professor." He said in his politest voice, "That would not be necessary."
He stole a glance at Hermione who was looking at him with a smug look on her face. Oh, to mess with her mind would be devious.
After class he swaggered up to her and grabbed her essay. Sneering, he said the complete opposite of what anyone would have expected, "The professor was right." While his words were not venomous, arrogance still coloured his voice, "It is good."
Hermione said nothing and watched him slink out the door, with his gang practically clambering over him and pressing for details.
"What did he want?! That slimy old git." Ron muttered furiously.
She only frowned at the door and shrugged, "I haven't got a clue."
"Did you hear Professor Selgentar though, she was brilliant."
A smile spread across both their faces as Harry joined them, "It was hilarious." And the three of them broke into laughter.
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The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔
Fanfiction"Do not make the mistake of thinking I care what you think of me." She looked down and saw her book in his other hand. The unexpected kindness in the midst of poison was more than she could bear and she took it from him quickly before breaking into...
