I just had to write this. I know I need to continue all of my fics that have been woefully abandoned, but I hope I can finish this one. By the way, who's excited for the last Harry Potter Movie?
Disclaimer: Don't. Own.
Draco Malfoy had always been one to hide his emotions. He liked to think he had a talent for creating the perfect façade. He never let anyone see what he truly felt, never wore his heart on this sleeve like that idiotic Potter. Letting your emotions control you is a weakness, and he, Draco Malfoy is not weak. No, he's the opposite of weak, Draco Malfoy is strong, so, it would be logical to assume that he controlled his emotions and acted in the complete opposite way of what he felt, which was exactly what he did.
When the famous Harry Potter, who Draco secretly admired, had rejected his offer for friendship, he pretended like he hated him, which of course lead to years of teasing and bullying.
When Ronald Weasely stood up for Harry, Draco insulted him and his family because of his desire for a friend like Ron, someone you could relay on, someone who had your back, well, most of the time anyway.
When Granger accused him of buying his way into the team, he called her a Mudblood.
When Mad-Eye Moody embarrassed and frightened him in front of a whole courtyard of people, he threatened the insane teacher before briskly walking, a Malfoy does not run, they don't need to, away.
For every hit to his pride he received, an insult was sneered out. It was a defense mechanism that he spent years perfecting. He was so used to it by now that it came as naturally as breathing to him. So when he began to realize that he actually liked the filthy little Mudblood, actually found her comebacks witty, went out of his way to annoy her, and tried particularly hard to get a reaction from her, Draco began to hate her even more.
Because, using his rather twisted logic, if he pretended that he sincerely hated her, no one would ever know that he really respected her.
That he saw her as his equal while according to his parents, they were clearly not.
That he thought she was one of the smartest witches of his generation.
That the way her eyes gleamed when she defended her friends made his heart skip a…
No, he could not be having these thought about a Mudblood, especially one he was supposed to hate. And, one he would eventually come to hate once he had some time to clear his mind. He clearly deserved better than that, he was Draco Lucius Malfoy for crying out loud. Purest of Purebloods while she was a lowest Mudblood, hardly worth even thinking about. That Mudblood would cease to be attractive to him, then things would be gradually fall back into their natural order.
Besides, it not like she'd ever like him, she completely and utter loathed him, wouldn't it be better for the both of them if he just played the part he was assigned and acted like he totally hated her too?
Even if she did like him, that couldn't change the fact that they were way too different.
She was from Gryffindor and he was from Slytherin.
She was Potter's friend while he was a soon-to-be Deatheater.
She was unselfish and brave while he was just a cowardly little boy who hid behind his parent's cloaks, a spoiled little brat who talked big, but that was it.
She was Muggleborn, a Mudblood while he was a Pureblood.
They couldn't love each other. It was like trying to tell a snake and a mongoose to get along. Or, maybe more like a snake and a lion. Either way, no matter what you do, nothing can change the fact that they're natural enemies, that their hatred is in their very deoxyribonucleic acid.
Yes, Draco thought, it'd be better for the both of them if he just played the part expected of him, as he had been doing his whole life. Life was complex enough without your worst enemies confessing their love to you.
Maybe this was just a phrase, or maybe it was the result of some parasite in him, something that'd mess with his mind and ultimately embarrass him while slowly killing him, yes, that had to be it. That's certainly what it felt like, a parasite on his heart, confusing him and making him think he loved that disgusting little bushy-haired, no longer buck-toothed girl.
He couldn't actually think she was intriguing otherwise.
Couldn't spend hours wondering what it would be like to stare deeply into her warm, chocolate brown eyes.
Wouldn't possibly think about how her hand would feel like in his own while they frolicked happily through a field of daisies while other stared on in envy at the love that was radiating off them so heavily it made every other person want to vomit and the others, who weren't vomiting, want to squeal at the utter fluffily fluff that was Draco and Hermione, or better yet, Dramione.
AGH, he was not thinking these thoughts! Stupid cliché parasite. The sooner he got rid of it the better…
I don't think I captured Draco very well, but I tried. I want to do two more chapters. One from Hermione's point of view, and the last one a mixture of them both. The heart on the sleeve part was a reference to Snape if you didn't catch that yet. And yes, deoxyribonucleic acid is D.N.A. I just like sounding fancy.