A HariPo drabble
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. I found this old drabble in a notebook and thought I should post it. I quite like it, even though I don't really ship Dramione. Read, review, and enjoy!
Of course there was loathing in the beginning. Isn't that how all the strange romances work out?
Hermione and Draco were opposites, opposites, and Draco's hatred was fueled by his family's prejudices, while Hermione's was fueled by Ron's stories of Malfoys and her own personal experience. Yet Hermione couldn't fight the part of her that made her Hermione; she couldn't help trying to really reason why they were enemies. After all, Draco wasn't Voldemort or like him—at least in the beginning. She tried to be logical, tried to find how A plus B led them to C.
She called it a morbid curiosity.
Draco had it, too. He couldn't be caught up in himself all the time, no; his bright mind liked to ponder a range of ideas. Mudbloods happened to be one such idea, and why there really was such a strong hatred of them. Surely they were unique—magic…well, magic had cropped up in a single being. Perhaps that meant they had a concentration—of sorts—of power? Draco would never voice such dangerous sentiments; to do so would be tantamount to ripping out his own veins, in his family.
Yet their angry glares which locked brown eyes with gray didn't contain pure disgust. So, one generation later, another set of brown eyes met another set of gray.
Rose and Scorpius knew they hated each other.
Before they were even Sorted into Slytherin with Al, Rose knew she would never come to terms with the ilk of the man who had made life harder for her parents and uncle. Her mother had never instructed her on how to treat Scorpius, but her father certainly had had a voice about it. So Rose used that as her rule: Beat him and stay away from him.
Scorpius hated her because she was so unremarkable. Her, the child of two war heroes? Please. Scorpius had his grandfather's words to fuel his loathing; it was enough for him, even if his father, mother, and aunt never said anything against the Potters and Weasleys. True, his mother and aunt had had a few dealings with them, but his father had never instructed him on how to handle Rose. So Scorpius used the teachings of his grandfather as a rule: Beat her and stay away from her.
Naturally, one ought to learn their enemy better.
Perhaps it had been an essay, maybe it had been Al—whom Rose was intent on never forgiving for befriending the Malfoy heir—but whatever the catalyst was, loathing became learning. Learning became listening. Listening became liking. And oh, how flustered they felt when liking became loving.
What were they supposed to do? Where did they go now? Hermione had never said a word against Draco; Draco had never said a word against Hermione… Ah. Rose and Scorpius both smirked on the inside as they finally went after what they sought the most. If it hadn't happened a generation ago, then surely "Hermione&&Draco" could happen now.
Ah, yes, the age-old "Is Scorrose the next-gen Dramione?" debate. Well, whatever. I just love Scorrose and sat down trying to analyze them, as well as Dramione. This was the result. :}
Thanks for reading and please review!