Prologue: Flies to Honey
She may have been slightly bored.
No, actually, she was bored. Bored out of her mind.
Hermione blew the bangs away from her face with a sigh. She watched as they fell back into place over her eyes, before she blew again.
The blend of voices around her could only be described as a muffled buzzing in her ears. It wasn't her fault. Really. It was just so..monotonous. When was she really going to need to remember when so and so discovered this spell or that spell? When was she ever going to need to know any of it? She blew again, listening to the rough tunnelling sound of the air rushing in front of her. And her professor's voice was just perfect as a lullaby. She really was sorry for not paying attention—truly!— but come on. She should probably figure out what was happening right now, she assumed, raising her hand slowly to tuck the loose honey brown strands behind her ears.
She leaned back, hearing her seat squeak in protest, and let the voices consume her once again. All of a sudden, as if—ironically—magic had commanded it, the sounds came rushing back to her loud and clear. She almost flinched.
"—time. Now class, I'm going to hand back the essays you handed in a few classes ago. They were…fairly well done," Professor Bins droned, adding a little "congratulations" at the end, that rather lacked its congratulatory meaning because it sounded more like his lectures than anything. Actually, anything the ghost said sounded like a lecture, Hermione thought. She scratched an itch on her arm, and fought the urge to yawn.
She could hear the girls behind her. Hermione wasn't a mean person. At all. But it was hard not to judge people sometimes. Albeit, she kept it pretty quiet most of the time. But sometimes, like right now, she had the strongest urge to just turn around and tell the two to stop talking. She really didn't need to hear their life stories at the moment.
She shook her head, and focused on Parvati and Lavender talking rapidly in front of her, listening in briefly to the conversation instead. The girls really weren't as shallow and silly as people perceived, Hermione mused. Okay, so maybe they weren't Hermione's favourites, not even close. But there were some things that Hermione through were quite admirable about them. Her eyes travelled to her lap as she thought, counting the points with her fingers.
Well, there was that time in fourth year, when Hagrid did that stupid experiment to figure out if Blast-Ended Skrewts hibernated. It was a disaster, but Lavender had stayed to help, and ended up getting burned in the process.
And Parvati really wasn't that bad either…
Hermione's train of thought was interrupted when she heard the high pitch giggle, unmistakably Lavenders. She barely looked up in time to see Lavender send a quick glance at Ron, before she giggled again.
Hermione almost rolled her eyes. Right, then there were all those things she didn't find quite so admirable about those two.
She didn't want to know whether Ron saw or not, nor did she care. Just the memory of catching Ron and Lavender snogging while on patrol last year effectively meant that her brain simply refused to think of the two of them at the same time. Disgusting.
She tuned out of that conversation and moved on. Professor Bins was handing back papers, floating through the desks in each row as he went along, seemingly oblivious to the loud talking around him.
Was he doing it on purpose? Ignoring the class because he was fed up?
The professor floated by behind Hermione, and from the proximity, Hermione could here is merry humming.
Guess not, she figured, chuckling to herself. Maybe it was a sort of blessing to be able to space out into your own world like that, she allowed. Then, she wouldn't have to deal with things like…Daphne flashing her mirror in Hermione eyes while fixing her hair. Hermione grimaced and turned away.
Or Ron and Lavender flirting.
She grimaced again, and turned the other direction.
Or…Draco Malfoy, she thought, as her eyes fell upon him.
What was with the guy anyways? She wasn't even looking at him. Then his pale blonde hair just sort of stood out. Really? Pale blonde? Doesn't blonde hair usually darken as the person grows?
But then again, Malfoy was just a big baby. Hermione smirked.
The careless expression carried on as she watched Malfoy command a ball of paper to hit poor Harper's head at the front of the class.
Poor guy. She should probably say something, as head girl and all, but all she could do was commend Draco for such good control with a wand hidden under a table.
She could make out Harper's protests at the front, and watched as the boy turned and glared at the Slytherin side of the classroom.
He would never find Malfoy though. Not that she would ever say it, but poor Harper was simply no match for the guy.
Malfoy and his goons—there was no better word to describe them—laughed.
Hermione felt like a silent observer in a jungle of people. After six years of school with him, she had to admit it. He was smart, she would give him that. There really wasn't any other compliment to give him though. And as for Crabbe and Goyle, she thought, as she watched the two, she really couldn't say the same.
"Hermione…Earth to Hermione…"
Hermione swivelled her head around to face Ron. Apparently, he was done with flirting. For now. Her stomach rolled over.
"Finally," he exhaled, rolling his eyes. "What were you doing?" He looked to where she had been staring off to. Was it her fault she liked to daydream? "Were you looking at Malfoy?" He spat the name in disgust.
"God forbid I look at someone," she snapped back. She had almost said Malfoy instead of someone, but realized how incriminating that sounded. No, best not deal with that with someone like Ron.
"Oh cut it Hermione, you know what I meant," Ron waved his hand airily.
"Yeah, yeah Ron, she knows. Please don't get her started on—" Harry answered for her, joining into the conversation from Ron's other side.
"Why would I even look at him like that huh? I just don't get it. Why do girls like him so much? I can't even blame the guy for lying to them or deceiving them because he doesn't," Hermione began, her thoughts pouring out as she leaned towards them.
"Here we go again," Ron muttered to Harry.
"Who's fault is that?" Harry whispered back.
"Not that he doesn't lie of course. But really, he doesn't lie about lying and that's the thing. Everyone knows he's a bastard. So why to girls flock to him like flies to honey."
"I think its bees to honey?" Harry interrupted.
"Oh no, at least bees have some willpower. Flies on the other hand.."
"Are you comparing girls…to flies?" Ron asked.
Hermione huffed. "That's not the point. The point is that—"
"We get it Hermione. That's honestly been the third time since we came back three weeks ago that you've ranted about that."
Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I really don't get it you know." She shrugged.
"We know." Ron sighed as he looked at the paper the professor just handed to him. "Bullocks," he muttered.
"Miss Granger," the professor acknowledged as she handed her her paper. She smiled and nodded, as if she had been the great student that had been paying attention all class as guilt flooded her. She honestly didn't even know why she felt guilty. It's not as if anyone else had been paying any more attention than her. Still.
She looked at the paper blankly for a moment. What was it again? Right, the essay.
There was no doubt about it now. She was going to absolutely fail this class.
"So Hermione, how'd you do?" Harry took his paper with a nod.
She turned and glared at him. Then, in all fairness, glared at Ron as well.
"Er…I don't think she did too well," Ron hissed.
"Remember the day when you dragged me out to the pitch to watch your stupid Quidditch tryouts Ronald Bilius Weasley." Harry stifled a laugh. "You too Harry Potter!"
"Oh..um…say, you weren't working on your paper that day were you?" Ron asked, slightly terrified.
"MAYBE," she hissed angrily. She flipped the paper over again, and her anger flared.
"We're sorry Hermione!" Harry quickly put in.
"Yeah, it's just one paper!" Ron added.
"One paper? I will fail this class now!" Hermione hissed.
"What's wrong? Guess perfect little Granger didn't get perfect this time huh?"
Hermione could recognize that voice anywhere. And not because of its sensual low intonation. No, because it was just so damn irritable.
She turned her head, and there he was, body turned to her, smirking. Was that the only thing he could do? Smirk?
She wanted to groan.
"Malfoy," she instead replied, her tone sickly sweet, "I didn't know you cared."
Odd, because a moment ago, the class was full of chattering voices.
"Don't worry your pretty little heart about it. I don't."
God she wanted to claw his eyes out sometimes. Not that she was a violent person. Is was more an expression.
"Thank the lord," she returned, with a smirk.
She turned around in her seat as the smirk fell away to the annoyance written on her face.
Draco eyebrows rose. Nobody got the last word in like that to him. He sneered. Really, there was only one person in the world who could get him worked up in two sentences. Not even Potter or Weasley could manage that. Only Granger.
"It's just that," he said aloud, watching Hermione's back, "I found this essay so easy. I guess as head boy, I would."
Hermione bit her lip. She wanted to say that she was head girl too. She wanted to say that it was just this once that he beat her. She wanted to protest. But no, she was not going to respond. She was not going to respond.
She closed her eyes. Dumbledore needed a hobby, she thought bitterly, distracting herself. He probably thought it was fun to watch the Griffyndors and Slytherins like this everyday. Stupid Headmaster.
She twisted around, about to respond, before she bit her lip again. She really shouldn't give him that satisfaction.
Once he saw that she wasn't going to respond, he laughed. He actually laughed. He had the nerve to laugh at her! She growled.
She had never really heard him laugh before. She'd always thought that him laughing would be weird—out of place, so to speak.
Her thoughts slowly strayed again as she considered the boy—Draco Malfoy.
He was who he was. It was that simple. There were no lies. No false preconceptions. No hiding behind masks. He was Draco Malfoy. Cold. Spiteful. Angry. Smart. And so so intriguing.
Hermione knew that. She did.
She knitted her brows together. But he was temptation. Tantalizing.
She watched. Not with love, god no. Or even want. No, she watched with curiosity. With wonder.
What was with him?
They lock eyes, and for a moment, the world stopped. "You know Granger, you can't get everything in life." His harsh slate eyes slash across her hardened brown ones. And then it was over. It was almost like a tease. A taunt. She looked away first. And he turned around.
Yes, Draco Malfoy was an enigma. There was no doubt about it.
She let her eyes wander back towards him. And then drift away.
She simply wasn't one of those flies.
"Wait Harry," she heard Ron whisper, as she fell out of her thoughts. "Isn't it bees to honey?"
Harry sighed. "We went over that already."
Hermiones frustrations fell away as she laughed. "Sure Ron. Bees to honey." She stood up and shuffled her books together, packing away her bottle of ink, glad that class was finally over.
A/N: WAR IS OVER IN THIS STORY. (sorry, but not in this story people:))
So here we go. Just a little insight on her thoughts:). I'm not sure how long this story will be (somewhere above 20 and below 35 chapters I'm thinking) and I'm not sure about the tone of the story anymore. We'll just see how it goes.
Anyways, I hope you like it so far:)
I'm afraid I won't be able to post as fast as I used to in prevous stories, maybe a chap a week, because I took some AP courses this year and like..WOW. It's no joke.
Look out next week for the next chapter and tell me what you think about it! REALLY!