Taking Advantage
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
12
Views:
17,107
Reviews:
61
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
12
Views:
17,107
Reviews:
61
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.
Taking Advantage
Draco bit back a growl when he saw her partner's arm tighten around her waist as the wizard twirled her through the crowd on the dance floor. She was being nothing more than polite, but he could tell that her partner was enjoying the feel of her silk-draped curves, and he wanted nothing more than to evanesco every bone in the other man's arm.
“Draco, darling,” his date repeated, forcing Draco to blink and shift his focus from the woman he watched but could never touch to the perfectly suitable and perfectly boring woman he had allowed to drag him to the ministry function.
“Hmmm?” he questioned, hoping he could say whatever it was that Pansy wanted to hear before he lost sight of the dancers in the crowd.
“You haven't hear a word I said, have you?” Pansy fumed.
“Sorry, Pans,” Draco admitted. “I'm a bit absent-minded tonight. What were you saying?”
“I was asking what you are going to do about that ridiculous law the Minister is pushing,” she answered. “If you don't hurry up and use your influence to stop the law, we'll never have the wedding I've always wanted. I heard a few witches in the powder room talking about eloping before the law passes at the end of the month to avoid having to marry mudbloods, but I don't want to elope. I've been planning our wedding since we were first out of nappies, and I don't want it ruined.”
“Pansy,” Draco gritted, as patiently as possible, “I've told you before that I have no intention of marrying you just because our parents wanted me to or because you've already mentally designed the robes you'll wear to the big event. What's more, I have no intention of getting involved with politics. Look what that did for my father--kissed by a dementor and for what? Trying to control the world. Bugger that. I'm going to live my life, run my businesses, and let the minister run the wizarding world into the ground if he wants to. I've wiped my hands of it.”
With that, Draco turned his head back toward the dance floor watching for a swirl of crimson silk. He could pretend that he didn't know when he started watching her, but that would have been a lie. It had been third year, when she slapped him and made herself more than just another way to strike at Potter. That slap had made her a target in her own right rather than simply a way to get Potter's dander up. For a while she had remained only an enemy, but by the time the Yule Ball rolled around during fourth year and showed everyone how lovely she really was, though, Draco had already taken note and started to think of her as something else. Sure he still liked to harass her but only because that was the only way he could interact with her without throwing his entire world into chaos. To his house and his family she was a dirty mudblood, but to him Hermione Granger was the focus of every adolescent fantasy and every ounce of the frustration that fantasizing caused.
A fat lot of good thinking of her did him, though, he reminded himself while slipping a glass of wine from the tray of the passing waiter at the dull charity event. She would never let him get within a yard of her thanks to his family's, and very briefly his own, beliefs. It hardly mattered that he didn't give a knut for blood purity; his father had bet his life to preserve Pureblood privilege, so to Granger, he was as taboo as generations of Malfoys would have considered her.
“But Draco,” Pansy's whining broke into his concentration again. “Even if you think right now that you don't want to marry me, shouldn't you still fight this law so that you won't be forced to marry a mudblood? The only ones left with any chance at influencing the Minister are you and perhaps Blaise. You owe it to your future children to make sure that they will be purebloods.”
Draco knew that Pansy thought she was being clever, flattering him and buying herself time to change his mind about marrying her, but she wasn't nearly as clever or subtle as she liked to think she was.
It was a good thing Blaise wasn't around because he would be laughing his arse off. Blaise had a theory that Pansy would have been sorted into Hufflepuff if she hadn't been such a hateful bitch, and what's more, Blaise knew Draco's secrets.
“Draco, darling,” his date repeated, forcing Draco to blink and shift his focus from the woman he watched but could never touch to the perfectly suitable and perfectly boring woman he had allowed to drag him to the ministry function.
“Hmmm?” he questioned, hoping he could say whatever it was that Pansy wanted to hear before he lost sight of the dancers in the crowd.
“You haven't hear a word I said, have you?” Pansy fumed.
“Sorry, Pans,” Draco admitted. “I'm a bit absent-minded tonight. What were you saying?”
“I was asking what you are going to do about that ridiculous law the Minister is pushing,” she answered. “If you don't hurry up and use your influence to stop the law, we'll never have the wedding I've always wanted. I heard a few witches in the powder room talking about eloping before the law passes at the end of the month to avoid having to marry mudbloods, but I don't want to elope. I've been planning our wedding since we were first out of nappies, and I don't want it ruined.”
“Pansy,” Draco gritted, as patiently as possible, “I've told you before that I have no intention of marrying you just because our parents wanted me to or because you've already mentally designed the robes you'll wear to the big event. What's more, I have no intention of getting involved with politics. Look what that did for my father--kissed by a dementor and for what? Trying to control the world. Bugger that. I'm going to live my life, run my businesses, and let the minister run the wizarding world into the ground if he wants to. I've wiped my hands of it.”
With that, Draco turned his head back toward the dance floor watching for a swirl of crimson silk. He could pretend that he didn't know when he started watching her, but that would have been a lie. It had been third year, when she slapped him and made herself more than just another way to strike at Potter. That slap had made her a target in her own right rather than simply a way to get Potter's dander up. For a while she had remained only an enemy, but by the time the Yule Ball rolled around during fourth year and showed everyone how lovely she really was, though, Draco had already taken note and started to think of her as something else. Sure he still liked to harass her but only because that was the only way he could interact with her without throwing his entire world into chaos. To his house and his family she was a dirty mudblood, but to him Hermione Granger was the focus of every adolescent fantasy and every ounce of the frustration that fantasizing caused.
A fat lot of good thinking of her did him, though, he reminded himself while slipping a glass of wine from the tray of the passing waiter at the dull charity event. She would never let him get within a yard of her thanks to his family's, and very briefly his own, beliefs. It hardly mattered that he didn't give a knut for blood purity; his father had bet his life to preserve Pureblood privilege, so to Granger, he was as taboo as generations of Malfoys would have considered her.
“But Draco,” Pansy's whining broke into his concentration again. “Even if you think right now that you don't want to marry me, shouldn't you still fight this law so that you won't be forced to marry a mudblood? The only ones left with any chance at influencing the Minister are you and perhaps Blaise. You owe it to your future children to make sure that they will be purebloods.”
Draco knew that Pansy thought she was being clever, flattering him and buying herself time to change his mind about marrying her, but she wasn't nearly as clever or subtle as she liked to think she was.
It was a good thing Blaise wasn't around because he would be laughing his arse off. Blaise had a theory that Pansy would have been sorted into Hufflepuff if she hadn't been such a hateful bitch, and what's more, Blaise knew Draco's secrets.