Hermione didn’t want to go to the party. Call her an old soul, but she didn’t care much for things that others her age were enticed with. She wanted a good book, a home cooked dinner, and good companionship- something many of her friends wanted to replace with alcohol, hookups, and a vibrant public setting. The only reason she found herself in this predicament of being at some crazy party was one too many rain checks given to her friend Ginny.
“Hermione! C’mon it’s been AGES since you’ve come out with the girls!” Ginny said pleadingly.
“You just know it’s not my cup of tea Ginny. I would so much rather be at home-” Hermione started, but Ginny wouldn’t have it.
Ginny firmly stated, “Hermione Jean Granger, you will get your arse in a gorgeous little dress and you will come with me to this party. It’s being hosted by Blaise, and I want a friend to come with me! Please? You’ll only have to stay for a few hours.”
And that’s how she ended up here. Off in a corner like the wallflower she liked being, a cup in hand, surveying the room inquisitively. That was, until her eyes landed on him.
He was tall, with a slim, muscular body. His hair was blonde and he was pale, making him look like some kind of angel. He had an aristocratic face, a strong almost pointy nose and a chiseled jawline. But it was when his silver eyes turned to her that she shivered.
The moment their eyes met across the room, she knew: this was a man who could either ruin her or make her feel like a queen.
Quickly, she looked down in embarrassment, hoping he didn’t notice her absolutely checking him out. When she looked back up, he was nowhere to be seen.
“Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?” A deep voice from behind her sounded. She felt like a deer caught in headlights when we turned around and saw the man she was openly eyeing behind her. She blushed deeply at his compliment.
“You don’t seem like the type to come around here often,” he said, “But I’m glad you made it.”
She was almost as offended as she was turned on. Not the type to be here? What the hell did he know! Sure, she knew she might’ve looked uncomfortable, but he had no right to say that shit to her.
“Oh really? I’m more familiar than I seem,” She said haughtily.
Blaise came up from behind him and interjected, “Damn! Kitten’s got claws! Careful, Draco likes em’ feisty.”
The man in question simply smirked at Blaise and asked, “Don’t you have a redhead you should be talking to right now?”
Blaise made his departure, not without glancing between Hermione and Draco. The tension between the two of them was almost palpable, and they only just met.
“So what is your name, gorgeous? I can’t very well call you that all night.” Draco teased.
“Hermione. I’m assuming you’re Draco?”
“In the flesh.” he answered, “Can I get you another drink? Maybe a bit away from the party?”
She thought about it. Her initial response to a man she literally just met offering her a drink and asking her to go away from a public place was obviously no. But her logic started to crumble when she thought of all the times her friends told her she needed to live a little, saying she was too cautious and needed to get out there. And when Draco offered her a sinful smirk, she threw all inhibitions to the wind and shrugged, “Sure.”