How Long?
Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway to Granger’s office watching her banter with the wizard from the Records department.
The wizard, Draco couldn’t be bothered to remember his bloody name, was a bit older than her having graduated from Hogwarts several years before she did.
He felt himself go hot and a flash of something struck him. There was something inside of him that distinctly did NOT like the sight of her smiling with another wizard.
He didn’t get that way when he saw her around Potter or the Weasel of course. He knew that ship long had the opportunity to sail away and, in Weasley’s case, had caught fire and sunk.
“How long?” he heard a voice say behind him. Draco whirled on the spot, and looked as Harry Potter stared at him, arms crossed, with a raised brow and a bemused look on his face.
“Excuse me?” Draco asked incredulously, his angular face contorting into his familiar sneer.
“How long,” Harry repeated. “Since you finally realized that you fancy Hermione.”
Draco let out a snort, he certainly did NOT fancy Hermione…Granger. He just preferred to be the wizard who got to sit on her office couch at lunch.
“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at Potter, I definitely do not fancy Granger,” Draco said derisively.
Harry glanced over Draco’s shoulder at Hermione and the other wizard and smirked.
Draco’s head whipped around to see what he was looking at, glaring into Hermione’s office.
“Keep telling yourself that Malfoy,” he said, patting Draco on the shoulder. “But sooner or later, someone is going to swoop in and sweep her away if you don’t.”
With that, Potter turned and strode away leaving Draco to his thoughts.