𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨

chapter seven

Monday September 7th, 7:30am

"Hmm..... Hmmm...."

Draco awoke to the sound of music, Hermione's radio seeping through his walls and into his ears. He could hear her humming along to the tune, voice sweet like a teaspoon of honey sliding down his throat.

Dragging himself out of bed in just a pair of boxers, he found his place on the floor besides the hole in the wall. The wood was cold beneath his thighs, tilting his head to get a better view of the morning sun that was pouring through her window, splashing gently against the glass.

This little night dress was light blue, the same color as her bedsheets. The dragon peeked out from under the fabric whenever she'd shift her hips, or lean over onto the covers.

Draco sighed quietly as he watched her repeated routine; taking a piece of clothing from her laundry bin, folding it precisely, and placing it in her bureau.

It was peculiar to watch her do everything by hand.

"Shit!"

He nearly gasped aloud at her foul language, watching as she dropped the bin of clothing on it's side, contents spilling across the floor.

Draco nearly drooled as she leaned down to the floor, propped on her knees as she threw the laundry back into it's basket.

A ball of orange fluff on feet pulled him out of his trance. He tried to pull away, but it was too late.

A short meow and a paw had stuck it's way into the hole, striking him across his cheekbone.

Draco winced, pulling back.

The feline had drawn blood.

"What's that, Crookshanks?" He heard Hermione shuffle from the other side and he quickly pulled away, hiding himself from her view as best he could.

Blood dripped down his cheek.

She knelt down where the cat sat patiently, slightly proud with himself.

"What the-"

She fell silent. He realized she was studying his room in the same way he had hers.

The floorboards creaked from the other side.

Holding his breath, he peeked an eye through the hole, but he was met by her brown iris.

They both gasped, Draco stumbling back in embarrassment. It felt as though he'd been caught doing the most devious of acts.

"Hello?... Malfoy? Is that you?"

His heart lurched into his throat.

He didn't answer, one hand clamped over his mouth. He could accidentally say something stupid, or admit something she didn't want to hear, or cuss her out-

"Draco, I saw your hair."

He hissed in defeat, knocking his head against the wall, "How the fuck-"

"Your hair is as bright as staring into the sun at noon. I'm not an idiot," she exclaimed defensively, leaning back on her knees.

"Your cat fucking hit me."

Hermione scoffed from the other side of the wall, "You deserved it."

A long silence captured the space around them, her sigh breaking the cold and unpleasant air.

"How long have you been stalking me?" She spoke, curiously keen by his actions, the slightest drip of sarcasm raining from her lips.