"Granger! Wait!" Draco ignored puzzled stares from students in the corridors as he yelled after the bushy haired girl bustling her way through the castle, satchel swinging, clutching books. "Hermione!"
It was this, apart from anything, that made Hermione hesitate. He'd only called her Granger. Until now.
She caught his grey eyes, relief etched over his pointed face. "Stop running, would you? Let me explain," Draco stood inches away from her. She was flattened against the wall in protecting herself from students swarming past.
"I don't want to hear it," Hermione replied. "It's too loud here, anyway."
"Please," Draco's face flushed and his eyes clouded over. "Just ..." He surveyed her, and in a sudden motion leant and grabbed her arm, pulling her into a broom cupboard.
"DRACO," Hermione hissed angrily. "I. Will. Kill. You."
He smirked, Hermione scowled in reply.
"Not so fast, Granger."
"Why are you calling me Granger now?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"You called me Hermione. Just now."
"Don't be stupid."
"Draco! I heard you!"
There was a moment of silence, before Draco breathed out angrily. "It was probably the weasel or ... Potter.""Don't talk about Harry and Ron like that!"
"Granger, just shut u-"
"I know you called me Hermione, Draco, don't deny it."
He closed his mouth. "And don't try and change the subject. Just listen. Pansy and I - we aren't together, Granger. It was a misunderstanding."
"Oh yeah?" She replied coolly, stepping closer to him so she could see the little bump on his nose where it would hook if he scrunched it up enough but only slightly. "Prove it."
He caught his rain-cloud eyes flicking to her lips, and coughed quietly, so the slight smell of spearmint made her feel like she was floating all of a sudden. "And how, Granger, exactly am I meant to do that?"
"You'll think of something," she didn't look away from his silver pools, and he didn't look away from her chocolate ones.
He kissed her.
•••
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FanfictionA set of Dramione one shots for your pleasure. 'Completed' for now but that might be a different story if inspiration were to strike. © Sophie Regan 2014 - 2015