Story Title: Counting to Twenty

Author: Anaphalis

Story Summary: Despite what the Gryffindors may have thought, Draco can count. One-Sided Draco/Hermione, implied Remus/Hermione. One Shot. Can be taken as a prequel to "Coffee Spoons".

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowlings.

Warning: Rated R for language and non-graphic violence.

Counting to Twenty

Between the idea

And the reality

Between the motion

And the act

Falls the Shadow

-T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men"

His father is dead.

One...

He killed him. Accidentally. By stabbing him ten times.

Two...

Bet the bastard never saw that one coming. And it was very muggle. Very satisfying. Never fuck with a Malfoy.

Three...

Speaking of fucks and muggles, isn't that Granger over there? She's shagging the werewolf. Not at the moment though.

Four...

It's not that he actually cares what she does. It's not like the only reason he's bloody out here today is because she looked at him at the Order meeting and he couldn't say no.

Five...

Or maybe it is.

Six...

Funny things, those Order meetings. They're all such self-important twits that he wouldn't believe that they could actually win if he hadn't seen the conclusive prophesy himself.

Seven...

Malfoys are not zealots. Malfoys are survivors. Malfoys do not play for the losing team.

Eight...

He may think "mudblood" in his mind, and fantasize about a little muggle-baiting, but he would never let his beliefs interfere with his personal success.

Nine...

If only it wasn't taking so bloody long.

Ten...

They have The-Boy-Who-Had-His-Head-Up-His-Arse to thank for that. Stupid git gets all weepy at the thought of having to kill someone. Then he lets his precious mudblood friend out on the street to be outnumbered ten to one by armed Death Eaters.

Eleven...

He'd show Green-eyes what it's really like to be in pain if he wasn't so necessary for the future that the last of the Malfoys has chosen.

Twelve...

Damn.

Thirteen...

He's not even sure why the thought of Granger falling to one of his former friends makes him sick to his stomach. She's not pretty. She's obnoxious. Her blood is as brown as shite.

Fourteen...

Maybe it's the big tits.

Fifteen...

Or maybe not. All he knows is that he wants to wipe that smug, virtuous look off her face. Sully all that white with a little grey or black. Or maybe there's some other reason.

Sixteen...

Or maybe not. All he knows is that he hates his old professor for getting there first.

Seventeen...

He hates that Granger and the werewolf are fighting side by side like fucking matching bookends.

Eighteen...

He really hates that he's going over to them.

Nineteen...

The werewolf is on his "side" of Truth and Justice. So was his father. He's not sure that that says much for Truth or Justice. And the professor is so close to him and far too close to Granger.

Twenty...

Aw, hell with it. Twenty counts didn't get his temper under control the last time either.

Avada kedavra.