Beyond The Looking Glass | DMHG

Chapter 3

Had his mother witnessed the way he was acting, she would have chastised him. Pureblood culture stated that table etiquette was a reflection of oneself, thus it would be unbecoming for the Malfoy heir to disrespect his company by not giving them his full attention as they shared a meal. But despite imagining the scandalised look on his mother's face, Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from Granger.

Normally, he would have cursed her for—yet again—prompting him to ignore his manners but the day had been far from normal. It wasn't every start of term a hoard of Dementors was on a train full of unsupervised children. Draco reconciled his thoughts with that fact as he glanced over his left shoulder to stare at Granger. Scowling at his limited field of vision, he angled his body sideways to get a better look at her.

He frowned, worry bubbling in his chest. Even with the warm glow of the candles floating overhead, she looked pale. Not the ethereal pale of the moonlight, but a sickly pale— the same kind of pale his paternal grandfather, Abraxas, was when they'd visited him in the French countryside.

The paleness didn't suit her at all. Especially not when it washed away the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. The same freckles he'd seen constellations in.

Bloody Saint Potter, he thought while narrowing his eyes at the back of Potter's head. Stupid Chosen One endangering all of them with his knack for attracting danger.

Too busy glaring at the scarred git, Draco didn't notice that Hermione had shifted her gaze onto him until his eyes caught hers.

They were coloured whiskey under the enchanted candlelight. He unknowingly let out a relieved breath.

Not dull.

Good.

All of a sudden, he felt more than one set of eyes on him. It was a kick to his shins that forced his attention back to his peers. Pansy arched an elegant brow at him. Goyle and Crabbe were staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. Blaise wore a questioning gaze. And Theo...Theo was smirking at him, eyes dark with amusement and mischief.

Fuck.

He'd been caught staring.

Now he needed a diversion, and quick.

Figures that Saint Potter with his sodding saviour complex would end up being the said diversion. Draco inwardly grimaced at the thought of Potter ever saving him. Revolting really, still, rumours spread quickly at Hogwarts, especially ones about a certain Chosen One.

"Is it true? You fainted? I mean...you actually fainted?"

Maybe goading Potter about being targeted by Dementors was a low blow, but in Draco's defence, the fates were practically begging him to take the opportunity. Who was he to deny the whims of the fates? Especially one that answered why his eyes had wandered toward the Gryffindor table?

It was perfect really. Even more so when he realised that Granger's attention was now him. She was frowning at him, fury slowly bringing back the healthy flush to her skin. He grinned at her. She huffed.

Draco chuckled. The fates had finally given him something. Of course, the way to get her bloody attention was through the Dunderhead Duo. Perhaps he should have been mad at the realisation but Draco honestly couldn't bring himself to care.

Not when he'd finally figured out how to make her stop dismissing him

-*-

"So..."

Draco nearly groaned at the familiar voice that had once again come from behind him. Perhaps he could ignore the git? How had Granger done it again? Had she rolled her eyes first or turned up her nose? Had—