it's just so curious
Hermione Granger looked at Draco Malfoy. But it wasn't how usually looked at him. Not that she made a habit of looking at him, that is. But this time, it was sort of...curious. Different.
After the catastrophe that was the Yule Ball, she'd sat on those cold stone steps and come to an unshakeable conclusion - she needed female friends. Harry and Ron were great, but it just wasn't the same. Of course, at the time she'd been positively distraught and crying without a heed for logic, but in retrospect, it seemed like the perfectly reasonable solution. She needed people to talk to about things like hair and clothes—not because she suddenly cared too much, but because she was realizing it was nice to care a little. And maybe it wouldn’t be awful to have someone to giggle and squeal over boys with, without being completely judged. She’d realised how relieving that would be.
That was when Draco Malfoy had come and completely turned her entire world upside down. Well, perhaps that might have been a tad bit dramatic, but given the circumstances, perhaps not. Pureblood supremacist extraordinaire, delivering an impassioned speech on how to value women. It was rather disconcerting, to say the least. She wasn't exactly sure what The Encounter had made her reevaluate, but the fact remained - it had made her reevaluate. Things. Lots of things. She just didn’t know what they were.
It had been a few weeks since The Encounter, and every other thing in Hermione's life was pretty much the same. Just... maybe she wasn't? It was bloody frustrating that she couldn't figure it out. She couldn't even figure out what she wanted to figure out. Her brain, an archive of categorically organised knowledge, felt like someone had meandered along and yanked entire sections off shelves, flung the contents into the air and left her to deal with the mess. Stupid, stupid Malfoy.
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she crashed into a solid form.
"What the fuck?"
Hermione looked up at the voice. Shit. Draco. Wait-when did he become Draco?
"I know that horrific bird’s nest on your head you would call hair is probably blocking your view of, well, quite literally anything. But you could try to watch where the fuck you're going," he sneered, voice laced with the usual contempt.
Now, a few weeks ago, Hermione would've snapped back instantly, with a precise and cutting retort. But this time was just so different. She looked up at him curiously and noticed his eyes. They were quite grey - like a storm on the verge of breaking. She could almost imagine them burning into her very soul, leaving nothing but a sea of chaos in their wake. She shuddered slightly.
"Granger," he hissed. "Are you malfunctioning or something?"
She snapped out of whatever trance he'd obviously put her in and glared at him accusingly.
"Well, maybe if you weren't so big and-" she stuttered. "Erm – in the way, people wouldn't crash into you."
His face turned into an expression of utter disbelief. Most likely at the lack of eloquence in the words that had just sprouted out of her mouth. She kicked herself. Internally. Obviously. Well, she couldn't exactly back down now.
"Yes Malfoy. Sometimes you should be a bit more aware of your surroundings," she gesticulated wildly around the empty corridor.
"Also, this birds nest? I don't like to call it hair, it IS hair. One would assume that the poncy pureblood prince with his elite education would have the ability to distinguish the difference between an animal's habitat and the human body. Honestly." She rolled her eyes.
Ah. That was much better. But to Hermione’s disdain, Draco didn’t back down. He blinked slowly, and his lip curled upward into a mean smirk.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Granger," he drawled, not moving. "Now do us both a favour and get out of my way."
"Gladly." She sauntered off towards the cupboard, mind reeling with curiosity about Draco Malfoy.