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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,687
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,687
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
NOT JUST A RIVER IN EGPYT
Hi there! EVILinnocence here! I just want to thank Megan and Luna for their comments. Yes Luna I will correct those mistakes and when I finish the entire story I’ll repost the entire thing complete with corrections. I would also like to thank my Beta Elen. Okay, I’ll admit, I suck at formatting but Elen is the one who made this readable. Thanks again and don’t worry guys smut to come.< /b >
CHAPTER THREE: IT’S NOT JUST A RIVER IN EGPYT
Cloak billowing behind her, Hermione marched her way back to the library walls. I can’t believe I just did that. Did I just defend Malfoy? Sighing she shook the thoughts away placing her assignment book on a long study table placed towards the back.
Everything these days seemed to be spinning out of control. I mean, sure, her first year her attraction to Draco was annoying but it did not prevent her from highly disliking him. Malfoy, it seemed to have an amply supply of bad qualities to distract her from anything that could be misconstrued as good. Her second and third year she felt herself watching him when he entered a room then quickly pulling away, terrified that Harry or Ron would notice the object of her distraction and come to the same mortifying conclusion she came to in her fourth, fifth and sixth year: that it wasn’t just attraction, it was lust and admiration, a full blown crush.
It was understandable in her eyes, to be attracted to someone like the late Cedric Diggorty. At least he, besides a pretty face, had some attributes that wouldn’t make her conscience wince. But Draco Malfoy? How could she ever live with that!
He hated non-pure bloods which she undoubtly was. He’d called her mud blood on many an occasion and during their second year she was the first to point the finger that Malfoy might have been behind the attacks. He owned house-elves and she didn’t even want to think about how he treated them. When she had waited for love to come one day she had thought it would arrive a dream: someone maybe a little dorky but handsome and brave and intelligent, like her best friend Harry.
Instead she had gotten a nightmare, albeit a sexy one, sneering and swearing and throwing his money around. After all these years she felt a pang when she saw the glint of his blonde hair and heard the soft lull of his voice wishing for some other kind of acknowledgement than “mud blood” or “Granger.”
Well she had gotten it and now she was wondering what horrible kind of disaster her love struck heart had led her into, most likely a black hole.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Draco’d watched her enter, her mind obviously somewhere else. Until the other day he hadn’t really thought about the value of Hermione as a friend but now, now he saw that she was literally a storehouse of information.
Although he may not agree with who she chose to befriend or her bizarre idea of ethics he would say that her face wasn’t all that unpleasing. Hair that was once as bushy as a squirrel tail seemed to be tamed to ringlets. She wasn’t pimply or grotesque. Over the years she had become down right attractive, if not pretty.
Draco felt his lips thin. Even within the confines of his thoughts he needed to be wary: this was a working relationship, not something to hanky-panky around and have rumors spread like wildfire within a week. He didn’t even want to begin to imagine the howler he’d receive.
CHAPTER THREE: IT’S NOT JUST A RIVER IN EGPYT
Cloak billowing behind her, Hermione marched her way back to the library walls. I can’t believe I just did that. Did I just defend Malfoy? Sighing she shook the thoughts away placing her assignment book on a long study table placed towards the back.
Everything these days seemed to be spinning out of control. I mean, sure, her first year her attraction to Draco was annoying but it did not prevent her from highly disliking him. Malfoy, it seemed to have an amply supply of bad qualities to distract her from anything that could be misconstrued as good. Her second and third year she felt herself watching him when he entered a room then quickly pulling away, terrified that Harry or Ron would notice the object of her distraction and come to the same mortifying conclusion she came to in her fourth, fifth and sixth year: that it wasn’t just attraction, it was lust and admiration, a full blown crush.
It was understandable in her eyes, to be attracted to someone like the late Cedric Diggorty. At least he, besides a pretty face, had some attributes that wouldn’t make her conscience wince. But Draco Malfoy? How could she ever live with that!
He hated non-pure bloods which she undoubtly was. He’d called her mud blood on many an occasion and during their second year she was the first to point the finger that Malfoy might have been behind the attacks. He owned house-elves and she didn’t even want to think about how he treated them. When she had waited for love to come one day she had thought it would arrive a dream: someone maybe a little dorky but handsome and brave and intelligent, like her best friend Harry.
Instead she had gotten a nightmare, albeit a sexy one, sneering and swearing and throwing his money around. After all these years she felt a pang when she saw the glint of his blonde hair and heard the soft lull of his voice wishing for some other kind of acknowledgement than “mud blood” or “Granger.”
Well she had gotten it and now she was wondering what horrible kind of disaster her love struck heart had led her into, most likely a black hole.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Draco’d watched her enter, her mind obviously somewhere else. Until the other day he hadn’t really thought about the value of Hermione as a friend but now, now he saw that she was literally a storehouse of information.
Although he may not agree with who she chose to befriend or her bizarre idea of ethics he would say that her face wasn’t all that unpleasing. Hair that was once as bushy as a squirrel tail seemed to be tamed to ringlets. She wasn’t pimply or grotesque. Over the years she had become down right attractive, if not pretty.
Draco felt his lips thin. Even within the confines of his thoughts he needed to be wary: this was a working relationship, not something to hanky-panky around and have rumors spread like wildfire within a week. He didn’t even want to begin to imagine the howler he’d receive.