wrong ||| dramione

Year Two || The Smallest Things

Draco had known the term "Mudblood" for a long while now. And even though his father told him not to use it in front of strangers, Draco felt like it was a weapon he could whip out at some moment when dealing with someone he didn't like.

He knew Hermione was Muggle-born, even during his first year. After his first month at Hogwarts, he had written a long and disorderly letter to his mother, describing "this stupid girl" and "Potter" and "that oaf Weasley". His mother comforted him as best she could. She told him not everyone as as good as him and if someone refused his friendship, then it was their loss.

"As to the girl," she wrote, "get her out of your head. From what I know, she is Muggle-born... You wouldn't want to be friends with people like that anyway".

Of course he didn't want to! What a suggestion! He crumpled the paper in his small white hand and tossed it into the fireplace as the flames ate it up.

Of course he didn't want to be friends with that girl.

***

Now, in their second year, Draco first ran into Hermione in the bookshop where they were buying their books. Or rather, he didn't.

He stood up on the second floor, his thin white hands on the railings, looking down silently at her from above.

He didn't want her to see that he was stalking her, taking in all the ways in which she had changed over the year without even noticing it himself. Harry Potter was the same nerdy-looking guy and Weasley looked even more hideous than ever. Granger... Granger looked even more brown and small and fragile. He hated her.

His father was talking about something to one of the bookshop assistants - and as Draco saw Harry retreat deeper into the shop, he leaned a bit over the railings - Lockhart was giving his presentation. Gilderoy Lockhart their new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. A total disaster, as his father had told him. Knew nothing but how to sign his own name - and that only because of extensive practice of signing autographs. Of course, bloody Lockhart had already noticed Harry and was dragging him before the camera.

What. An. Idiot.

- Ladies and gentlemen... What an extraordinary moment this is... - came Lockhart's unfamiliar voice. - When Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts to purchase a copy of my autobiography... "Magical Me..." 

Draco raised his head sharply - his father passed him by and went into another corner of the shop. Draco waited for him to leave and only then did he resume watching his enemies. As he turned around, he had lost what Lockhart had been talking about - but he had seen Granger clap a little louder, a little more eagerly than the rest.

It didn't occur to Draco that time that she might fancy Lockhart. He didn't think anyone capable of fancying Lockhart. However, it was absolutely certain that Potter had been photographed for the prophet... Draco had never been on the front page.

Harry and his friends walked hurriedly off with the full collection of Lockhart's books, hastily trying to relieve him of his unneeded load - and Draco headed swiftly down to catch him. Down the steps he went, listening closely to what was happening further down.

- Bet you liked that, didn't you, Potter? 

They all stopped. Draco loved how lower his voice could become now, and he revelled in the power he radiated. He was taller than Harry now - and that made him almost ecstatic.

- Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page!

A dirty-faced, small little girl stepped in front of Harry and looked up at Draco with hatred in her eyes.

- Leave him alone, - she said in a menacing tone. Yet the combination of her height, little voice and tone was laughable.

- Oh look Potter! - Draco smiled brightly, and looked up at Harry again - you've got yourself a girlfriend!

He wanted to relish the disgust on Harry's face a little longer - then something hit him on the shoulder and he bit his lip, obediently slinking away. The feel of his father's walking stick was something he would recognise anywhere, at any time.

- Now now, Draco, play nicely... - his father's tone was intrigued, and Draco looked up at him, wondering what he would do next.

- Mr Potter... Lucius Malfoy.

His father held out his hand to Harry - and Harry, apparently not knowing what he was in for, took it - and the next second his father had drawn Harry to him, pushing back his hair with his stick and muttering:

- Forgive me...Your scar is legend...As is the wizard who gave it to you.

Draco felt all abandoned in his corner. Someone pushed past him - and he looked hungrily up just to see Granger come up to them.

His mood brightened instantly, but he took care now to show it.

- Voldemort killed my parents... He was nothing more than a murderer - Harry retorted.

Draco's father smiled... Draco knew that smile and he was afraid of it, but apparently Harry had no idea of what Lucius was capable of.

- You must be ... very brave to say his name. Very brave indeed... or very foolish.

Granger was now standing next to Malfoy - and she hadn't even acknowledged his presence. His good mood sank once again - how dare she disrespect him like that?

- Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself, - she raised her voice, turning Lucius's attention to herself.

Draco's heart beat faster. Now she would get it. One didn't talk to his father like that.

- And you must be... Miss Granger? - Lucius glanced at Draco and he nodded slightly, biting his lip and looking at the girl with even more hatred than before.

- Yes... Draco's told me all about you... And your parents.

Granger grew tense.

- Muggles, aren't they?

Mr Weasley came up to them... His father was now deep in an insulting conversation on both sides. But Draco didn't hear. Granger hadn't looked at him? Fine! He wouldn't look at her either.

When his father was done talking, he followed him and demonstratively said "see you at school" to both Harry and Ron but ignored Granger.

He stormed out of the bookshop, his black robes flying behind him.

This year was going to be fun.

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