Flowers
“Ron, you reckon someone forgot their flower bundle?” Granger’s voice rang behind him with sincere curiosity and worry.
Draco has developed this instinctive habit of eavesdropping on Gryffindor’s Golden Trio throughout the last six years he’s spent in Hogwarts. Lately, however, he finds himself focused on the trio’s Golden Girl. At first it was because he realised that she was the brains and mastermind of the three - even he would admit the girl had all the brain cells in their merry little band. Whatever it was they were scheming, there is no doubt that she would have been the one to concoct the plan or polish it to perfection.
Hearing no answer from the burly, red-headed oaf, Draco already expected Granger to keep pushing. “It would have been quite careless of them, especially since we’re in the potions lecture room - not the laboratorium.” she said, trying to get a response.
He does not understand why she keeps trying to catch that halfwit’s attention at all. Weasley was not particularly handsome - he looked closer to an overgrown freckle, if Draco were to give his opinion. A massive freckle with that unnatural strand of red hair sticking out of it. He could have chucked it to talent or brains but there simply wasn’t anything Draco could use to rationalise Granger’s need for the twit’s attention. It gets annoying to the point where, if it weren’t for the backlash he’ll receive from his peers and his parents, he would have called her out for settling for less and he would have called Weasley out for being denser than molasses. Maybe he would notice her if he would just stop shoving his tongue down Lavender Brown’s mouth.
There was a subtle sound of ruffling cloth before the oaf began talking to Potter and Longbottom about the coming quidditch season. Draco barely heard the indignant puff from Granger before hearing her say “Honestly though, do you think I should surrender this to Professor Slughorn? Someone might need it for their next class!”
Draco had to fight back a sigh. Wasn’t she supposed to be the smart one? Clearly the person - boor - she was talking to hasn’t the smallest interest in what she has to say and obviously the flower bundle had something to say to her, if she only looked closer. He needed to butt in and say something.
“Will you cease your incessant whining, Granger?” In the years he’d spent observing and exchanging insults with Granger and her friends, he had recognized that whenever he teased Granger, whenever he would use a particular tone of voice or look at her a certain way, she would have the most entertaining reactions. A delectable looking flush would develop along her cheeks that would spread all the way to her ears, her curls would puff up slightly - like a cat would, and her amber doll-like eyes would narrow. It made him want to challenge her more, get more of those reactions from her. He wanted more of her, and this was the most subtle way he knew he could get her attention. “What are you even whining about, anyway?”
“Not that you should care, Malfoy, but someone left a bundle of fern, foxglove, and poppy on my desk.” came the sharp answer.
There was just something in her incredulous replies that keeps him going; something about that fire in her that just makes him want to tease her more. He tried his best not to be obvious about it by scoffing. He failed, of course, but the others didn’t seem to notice. “Looks like someone is trying to catch your attention, swot.”
“Who said that? Who called Hermione a swot?”
It was amazing how Weaselbee never paid any attention to Granger, yet had ears sharp enough to hear if someone were to insult her. Not that Draco meant to insult her, he meant swot in the most endearing(?) way possible. He calls Theo a swot all the time and he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Hold your Hippogriffs, Weasel. I’m just telling Granger here that someone might be interested in her.” He shrugs his shoulders for an added effect of nonchalance. “Not that I would understand why.”
“Shove off, Ferret. Hermione has plenty of interesting qualities”
“I don’t see any.”
Weasley stood up, apparently in an attempt to get physical with him but Granger managed to hold him down. It was like seeing a maiden calm down a raging gorilla or troll. Somewhere, deep inside Draco’s thoughts, he wonders what would it feel like to have Granger calm down his raging dragon.
“There is no need to get physical, Ronald. ” There was venom in her voice as she chastised Weasley. “And, you, Malfoy , are in no position to tell whether or not I have interesting qualities.”
There was something spine tingling in the way she glares at him when she’s pissed off. It was like seeing a feral kaibyo and he was up to the challenge to tame her - or be tamed by her instead. Under the glare of her honeyed doll-eyes, Draco had always fantasised about having the same eyes glare at him from above, taking everything from him. He smirks as she continues to glare at him, it was so easy to get the reactions he desired from her. She was absolutely delicious.
“I…I think Malfoy is right, though, Hermione.” Longbottom’s voice was barely audible. Shocked gasps came as a response to the meek Gryffindor’s agreement with him - a nasty Slytherin. Lonbottom tried to take it back, stuttering. “N-no… I meant the ‘someone is interested in you’ part.”
“What do you mean, Neville?” Potter asks, finally joining the discussion.
Longbottom gingerly takes the bundle from Granger and points. “See, the combination of ferns, foxgloves, and poppies in a bouquet means that someone is harbouring a secret love for you. That and whomever they are, they want you to know that they’re thinking about you in their dreams.”
The blush that bloomed in Granger’s face was a personal triumph for Draco. The way her eyes grew bigger as Longbottom revealed the meaning of the blooms and how she began to look around the room tempted Draco to just reveal himself as the gifter. Longbottom gives Granger the bundle back and she lowers her face into it and takes a deep inhale; finally appreciating his gift. The duality of her, being all fierce and furious to this blushing softness, made him want to devour her whole. He wants her ferocity, and he wants her docile. He wants all of her.
She looks at Longbottom curiously. “What do you reckon is the best way to respond?”
“Well, it depends, Hermione.”
“Let’s say…” she bites her lower lip, a habit that Draco notices her do when she’s flustered. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to finish. “Let’s say I’m willing to give them a chance.”
She didn’t have to say more. He would have taken her right then and there if it weren’t for all the eyes looking. What made it better was how red Weasley was. Draco wanted to gloat. He wanted to make sure that he won this round.
“He might be a creeper, for all we know, ‘Mione,” Weasley said, in his attempt to divert her attention. But she didn’t seem to pay him attention anymore. Good.
“You snooze, you lose, Weasel”