Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the story.

A/N: Hey everyone! It's 1 AM and I'm literally bored to tears, but I'm too restless to sleep, so I decided to make a one shot instead of starting on my chapter 4 for another story I am making. Anyway, enjoy this little Dramione!

Eleven year old Hermione Granger was walking towards the Quidditch pitch feeling like she was walking towards her death instead. It was her third class of the day, and she wish she has the courage to skip this one and just hide until her fourth—and last—class comes. She read all the books about flying brooms since the night before, but she knew that it was not enough.

Darn it, she thought. Hermione has never been good in sports, other than running, and she has been afraid of heights since the summer of '85 when her nanny forgot her on the terrace of their summer home.

"H-Hermione?" A timid voice called for her. She turned around to see a pale-faced Neville Longbottom. She knew she looked similar; nervous and looked like she would vomit any minute.

"What is it, Neville?" Hermione asked, trying to put on a brave face.

"C-can you… can you tell me all the things you've read again?"

Hermione smiled. Neville was the only one who had acknowledged her as a friend, and not as some irritating know-it-all. She knew what people called her when she was "not" around. It hurt, but learning was more important to her at the moment.

She recited everything she had already told Neville that morning but he was a willing participant so she didn't feel tired talking. He was hanging on to her every word, and they were both hoping it would work out for them. After five minutes, Madam Hooch arrived and blew her tattered whistle.

It was time.

Hermione and the other students—Gryffindor and Slytherin first years—stood beside their respective brooms and waited for the instructions. Once Madam Hooch finished reciting her piece, they started to call for their brooms.

"UP!" Hermione heard Harry Potter shout to his broom. The broom immediately went straight to his hands, making the boy smile with pride. Nonetheless, she was extremely jealous.

"Up!" She tried. She tried again and again but the broom would only shake on the ground. After a few minutes, she was feeling agitated and was about to lose hope. Even Neville had successfully called his broom before her!

No offense, though, she thought again.

"Ugh!" She groaned.

"You know…" Hermione turned to her right side to see a pale, blonde-haired boy smirking at her. "They say your broom could feel whether the person calling for it meant their command."

"That's absurd. It's a thing. It doesn't feel anything," was her only reply.

The blonde boy raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Whatever. Just do what I do. I treat it like I own it."

Hermione considered what the boy has told her. Everyone had called out for their brooms successfully, and were just chatting around waiting for Madam Hooch to tell the next instruction.

There's nothing wrong in trying…

"UP!" She called for the broom. Immediately, the broom shot up to her hands and grasped it. She squealed in delight and jumped up and down. She turned to look at the blonde haired boy who was looking at him with an amused look on his face.

"Thank you!" She said brightly. "I'm Hermione, by the way."

"I'm Draco," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! I remember now! You're Draco Malfoy!"

Draco looked smug, probably because he thought he was starting to get popular. "I never had the chance to know your surname. What is it?" He asked.

"Granger!" She said.

Draco looked thoughtful for a while, trying to think where her family might have been from. When he came up with nothing he asked, "Granger? I have never met the Grangers before. Where are you from?"

"My family and I live in London!"

"Where in London?"

"I guess you lot call it Muggle London. We live near the city, you see."

"Ah! A wizarding family brave enough to mingle with the muggles?"

"Erm…" Hermione shifted. "You see, I'm a muggleborn."

Draco's eyes went wide. "A muggleborn?" Hermione nodded.

Draco's attitude changed drastically. He was no longer smiling at her. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked. She didn't know what she said wrong, but she guessed he didn't like it when she said she's a muggleborn.

Draco didn't answer her and turned his back on her.

A muggleborn?!, Draco thought. And to think that I was so willing to be friends with her. I even thought she was cute. Well, she's still cute… but a muggleborn!

Draco felt disappointed. He was attracted to the bushy-haired girl but she was a representation of everything his father taught him not to be friends with.

"Ahhhh!" Draco looked over to where the scream was coming from and snorted. Neville was mounted on his broom, flying and doesn't have control over the object. Everyone was panicking, even Madam Hooch who couldn't cast a spell as Neville was moving too fast.

When Neville finally came down, Madam Hooch inspected the whimpering boy. Neville broke his wrist and the professor had no choice but to accompany her student to the hospital wing. When the two were out of sight, Malfoy's eyes caught a round, shining object on the ground.

"Oh, a remembrall," He exclaimed as he picked up the object.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed.

Draco placed his thighs between the broomstick he was holding and said, "If you can catch me!" He smirked at him and then shot up to the sky.

Hermione saw the exchange and ran to Harry's side to warn him. "He's had experience before, Harry! You might get hurt, and Madam Hooch specifically said not to fly without her here!" The last words came out as a shout because even before she finished, Harry already came flying towards Draco. "What an idiot," she muttered.

The students watching were shouting the two boys' names as the chase after the remembrall went on. Harry, of course, won in the end leaving Draco Malfoy seething.

When Harry was taken by Professor McGonagall, and when the students started to walk back to the castle, Hermione turned around to find Draco Malfoy sitting on the grass. She stopped walking, and went back to where he was sitting.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

Draco looked up to see two hazel eyes looking down at him with concern. He just nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"I just said I was!" Draco snapped. He was beginning to hate Harry Potter more and more.

"Well if you need to talk to anyone..." she trailed off.

"What? Are you offering me your presence?"

"More like my friendship," Hermione muttered but it was loud enough for Draco to hear.

Even if he didn't mean to, Draco smiled. He had never encountered such a friendly person.

But she's a muggleborn!, a deep voice on his mind reminded him. The voice sounded like his father. He shook his head forcefully and sneered at the girl.

"I don't need your help!" He replied angrily as he stood up and walked away from her.

"So rude!" He heard her say. He didn't bother to look back to see her face etched with annoyance. He unintentionally smiled again.

Too bad she's a muggleborn, he said to himself. Well, at least she's cute!