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Despising You	By : Chillkat Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 24289 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Draco woke up to the smell of something delicious, even though he had no clue as to what it was, caring at this point was long lost he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast at Hogwarts. Throwing on some jeans and a wife-beater he stepped out of his room. Taking a glance at the clock on the mantle he saw that it was only seven thirty. Looking towards the kitchen he saw Granger sitting at the table in some workout pants and a t-shirt eating pineapples and oatmeal with a glass of water.
She wasn't really paying him any attention, her nose was too deep in Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans. Casually he walked over to the refrigerator and opened it while secretly glancing at the stove, he was starving and he was hoping she had left some more oatmeal on the stove so he could properly claim it. However his luck proved wrong, the pan she used for the oatmeal was already washed and laid to the side for drying. Damn her, what was he supposed to eat? Grabbing an apple that was in the refrigerator he walked back into his room. Holding the apple in his mouth he took off his shirt and began to work out for the morning.
She watched him covertly as he stormed back into his room. If he thought that she was going cook him food some food using her meager pile of wood he was sadly mistaken. To say she was agitated to find that he kept all the wood for himself last night was an understatement. Well if she had to make it on her own with her amount of wood well he was somehow going to have to make it on his own with his obvious inability to cook.
Finishing her meager breakfast she cleaned her dishes and put on her shoes. Before Mr. Plympton showed up for training she figured a good stretch would be in order. Walking to the edge of the cliff she let the crashing of the ocean lull her into a trance. All her thoughts came rushing to the forefront of her mind at once. Why was she a monster? Was it hereditary? How long did the headmaster know that she was changing? She wasn’t even sure she knew when the exact changes began. The only thing worst for Hermione than being lost, was not knowing the answer, oh why did she not go to the library before she left. Picking a spot not too close to the edge she began to stretch.
With each push he raised his body from the floor level to the bed next to him.
Ninety-one
This was his father's fault somehow, that bastard knew what he was turning into and was loving it.
Ninety-two
Why he wanted him to be a warlock or how he made him to be one was beyond him but Draco knew one thing, his father had plans for him. However, what that bastard didn't know was, was that Draco had plans as well and they involved his father's cruel and tortured death.
Finishing up his last set he walked outside hoping that scar-face would be out there so he could get this over with. He was disappointed to find that the old bastard wasn’t there yet, but that feeling disappeared when he looked straight ahead.
Sitting on the ground with her legs spread in a straight line was Granger, from what he could tell she was stretching but his mind wouldn’t allow him to get past her odd position. Actually his mind would not let him do much of anything,
All he could do was grab the doorway for support. What in the hell was she doing that for, no one in their right mind wanted to see Granger in such a tempting position. If that old bastard saw her he probably faint but most importantly Draco didn’t want to see her in that disturbing pose.
Just as he was about to throw an insult towards her, a loud pop was sounded to his right. Looking over to the small clearing where they had landed yesterday was Mr. Plympton. Thankfully Granger was standing up from that ludicrous position and walking over to them.
“Good Morning to the both of you,” Hermione didn’t know how he did it but he somehow made that usually cheery statement cold and halfhearted. “As I said before I am here to train you on the control of your powers not an entire new method of magic which I guess both of you were thinking. No, I shall only teach you two on how to handle yourselves in impossible situations; situations normal wizards and witches could never pull themselves out of, and the importance of never losing control."
Later on the night the two teens burst through the sturdy wooden door to their small stone house and stormed to their respective rooms.
How she was supposed to work with a prick like that was beyond her but what she just had to go through was making her rethink the muggle lifestyle. He did nothing but insult her and push her around, while they were supposed to be working together. Mr. Plympton wasn't very helpful either; he constantly sent nearly unbeatable spells their way not to mention some highly illegal ones as well.
But what infuriated her the most was that Malfoy knew almost every spell and the most effective counterattack for them, frankly leaving her in the dust and that was beyond irritating. The few times she actually beat him to the punch was when her new powers kicked in making her lose some of her control but that only made matters worse. Mr. Plympton would yell at her making them both start over again, which made Malfoy shove her around harder when he got the chance. That was the reason they were coming in so late, they were supposed to be done with training hours ago.
The slamming of the bathroom door informed her that Malfoy beat her to the shower.
“Great.” she muttered while walking over to the fridge. Opening it up she noticed that most of the fruit she picked yesterday was gone. Thinking of what she saw growing in the greenhouse last night she searched through the cabinets for anything that would at least inspire a meager meal until she had the chance to check out the village wares.
Grabbing the basket she headed back outside, first she was going to get some more firewood for her shower and meal. Having to use two of her three spells she managed to get a pretty decent load. After carrying it back to her room she headed back outside towards the greenhouse. Relief was the dominant feeling she felt when she spotted some greens, potatoes, and corn ready to be picked, and some potential spices. Even though it was a vegetable filled diet she was already looking forward to it.
When she entered the house she peeked a glance at the bathroom door, thankfully it read unoccupied, putting the food away she quickly went to her room and gathered her things for her shower. As quickly as the night before she dashed into the bathroom and locked it.
8 8 8 8 8 8
To say he was hungry was an understatement, lying on his bed he listened to the only two sounds in the house, Granger’s bloody shower and his stomach making odd noises he was unaccustomed to, both sounds, sickened him to no end.
Getting up he ventured to the kitchen while the mudblood was taking a shower, he did not want her to see him. Opening the refrigerator he noticed that she picked some more fruit and some vegetables. Dammit, he didn’t want any more fruit and he sure as hell did not know what to do with the unprepared vegetables. Growling in frustration he looked through the cabinets, only to find raw cooking materials such as flour, meal, and seasonings.
Grabbing the can of oatmeal he sat it on the counter and grabbed a bowl from the other cabinet, pouring the flake like substance in a bowl he flipped his wrist making the ring on his finger turn into his scepter. Pointing the scepter at the bowl he muttered a simple spell, “forbered. (Prepare)” Instantly the flakes were prepared much like the substance Granger was eating that morning. Putting away the oatmeal box he grabbed his bowl and plopped down on the very firm couch.
After yet another luke warm shower and getting dressed she emerged from the restroom, putting her things in her room she caught a glance at Malfoy shoveling oatmeal in his mouth with a very disgruntled look on his face. Her curiosity as to how he made the oatmeal was quite piqued to say the least for the fact that that box did not have directions on it; and the chance that he actually put salt in the plain flavored oatmeal was slim.
Walking back out and into the kitchen she stole another glance at his disgusted facial expression, she was right no salt. That brought a small smile to her face as she grabbed two pots from the cupboard, grabbing the vegetables from the refrigerator she began to prepare her meal.
He was thinking of ways to kill his dad when a glorious smell wafted through the air towards him. Glancing behind him over the couch into the kitchen he saw Granger pour something that smelled like potato soup into her bowl. His bowl nearly shattered in his hands, that bitch, she always did her best to out do him.
Getting up he casually walked to the sink and put his bowl in, even though he felt like hurling it in. Although that would involve letting his emotional barrier to slip, and it would be beyond ludicrous to give her such satisfaction. Instead of acting out his true feelings of slinging insults her way, he simply walked out of the house into the night.
“Filthy mudblood!" he mumbled to himself as he walked into the forest. His anger was so intense he didn’t give a toss what was in this foreign magical forest. If he could just make it to the end of this training he would be scot-free. Because no matter what Snape and Dumbledore thought there was no way on this green earth was he going to partner up with the mudblood for the rest of his God given life.
Stopping he came to a large pond, it was easy to see that it was substantially deep. The moon reflected off the sides where the water meets the shore, however the center of magical pool was darker than the night's sky. Out of a mixture of curiosity and boredom he grabbed a stone at his feet and tossed it directly above the middle of the pool high in the air to make sure it made a decent splash.
Yet as he watched it hit the ebony surface he knew his initial guess was right, the stone did not make the customary waves as a normal stone would have, the water just slowly rippled as if the entire pool of water was made of gel. But that wasn't the only thing that caught his eye it was the movement beneath the gelatin surface something big and shiny, and something he didn't care to play with tonight. Turning around he headed back to the house, the nights air really cooled down his nerves.
Walking inside he expected to walk into a pitch-black room, but he was stopped in his tracks by the candle on the table.
A candle that was specifically left for him.
He stood there frowning for a few good minutes before taking it to his room. Setting the candle on the dresser he sat on his bed, grabbing his ridiculously thin pillow he muttered a fluffing charm, which instantly turned the waif-ish pillow to something substantial. Sheets were not a big deal since he usually slept with no sort of covering, but he imagined when the temperature changed he was either going to have to build a bigger fire or conjure a blanket.
Taking off his clothes and leaving his shorts on he lay down. Staring at the offending candle on the dresser he thought about the wretched girl in the next room.
She had another thing coming if she thought he was going to make amends or something.
Turning over he went to sleep letting the flame consume itself in the wax.
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Despising You