A/N: So, here's my one-shot for the first round of the Quidditch League Competition! I was supposed to write about the favorite pairing of the seeker (AmazingGraceless) on my team, the Caerphilly Catapults, which just so happens to be Dramione! I chose the following prompts: the dialogue "You have about as much charm as a flobberworm", and the words "beginning" and "change". I hope you enjoy it!

"You have got to be joking."

Hermione Granger was standing in the hallway on the fourth floor of a wizarding apartment complex with a pile of boxes in her arms, entirely unamused by the situation at hand. In fact, she had never been this upset in all of her life, not even when she got a mere E on her Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L, not even when S.P.E.W failed to gain support from the wizarding public despite the numerous pamphlets she had handed out.

"I'm not exactly pleased about this, either," Draco Malfoy spat, his chin looking pointier than ever as he glared at the female third of the bane of his Hogwarts years, who was, unfortunately, standing at the door of the flat next to his.

Hermione groaned in frustration, wondering why the gods had seen fit to have her beautiful new flat be placed next to that of the blond-haired menace from her teenage years. Sure, he had managed to redeem his family's name in the aftermath of the War, and had apparently stopped believing in blood purity, but still - he was Draco bloody Malfoy, for Godric's sake!

"Why are you even living in a flat?" she asked, remembering something she saw in Ginny's Witch Weekly about the wizard's personal fortune. "I would've thought that you'd be living in a mansion or something."

He sighed in annoyance then ground out, "Because I bloody like living here. Or I used to, before today."

Hermione adjusted the placement of the boxes in her arm to a more comfortable position and retorted, "Well, you don't seem to have changed much since Hogwarts, Ferret."

"And you are as sanctimonious and swotty as ever, I assure you," he snapped, grey eyes as cold as a freezing winter's day. "Incidentally, where's Weasley? I can't believe that he's not here, full of Gryffindor chivalry, helping the two of you move in."

"Ronald and I are no longer together," she sniffed, pointedly looking away from the Slytherin.

He smirked. "What, were your bushy hair and encyclopaedic brain not appealing enough for him? Or, rather, were you too prim in the sack?"

She scowled his vicious tone and disturbingly gleeful face. "Malfoy, you are about as charming as a flobberworm."

"Oh dear me," he said in mock horror. "My feelings are so hurt, Granger. However shall I survive that blow to my heart?"

In response, she glowered, then pushed through her door and slammed it shut with a resounding BANG.

A month later

"Harry, I don't know if I can do this anymore," Hermione said, angrily pacing in the small cubicle of the Man-Who-Lived. "I swear, if I see that bastard again I will hex him and I will not regret it."

Harry watched her stomp back and forth in amusement, only slightly concerned for the wellbeing of the wizard in question. "Come on, 'Mione, he can't be that bad."

She suddenly stopped moving, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Oh, yes he can. Allow me to enlighten you on the goings-on of one Draco Malfoy." She held up a finger then proclaimed, "First, he apparently feels the need to take a girl home almost every other bloody day, and, when he sees me, he never fails to remark upon the fact that I'm single. Not that I care," she added hastily. "Second, he has a ridiculous penchant for insulting my hair, which is, apparently, 'reminiscent of a porcupine and about as endearing'", she continued, holding up another finger. "And finally, he's a git, Harry! He's a smarmy, annoying, ferrety git!" She concluded her tirade with a dramatic collapse into the chair across from her best friend of over ten years, and then sighed a sigh full of intense suffering.

"At least he doesn't call you that word anymore," he replied, smiling hopefully at the forlorn witch.

She sighed again, then straightened in the chair. "I thought that I could ignore him, but it seems as if he goes out of his way to annoy me. And I was so glad after graduation that he'd declined taking a job at the Ministry, only to find out that…" She shook her head then said, resolutely, "You know what, Harry? I'm not going to think about him. At all. I have much better things to do with my time."

"If that's what you want," replied Harry, nodding complacently, utterly amused by Hermione's situation. He didn't see Malfoy very often anymore, but the two men always exchanged almost-friendly nods when they ran into each other. Quite honestly, Harry didn't think that Malfoy was much of a threat to Hermione. In fact, he was more worried about Malfoy's health should she decide to make good on her earlier threat.

"So," she said suddenly, looking away from Harry. "How's Ron?"

Harry winced, conflicted over how to respond to her question, and then slowly said, "He's alright. He and, uh, Lavender are, um, dating now."

Hermione nodded, still not meeting Harry's bright green gaze. "Good for them," she murmured quietly.

Harry sighed. "You know that he was a right wanker for doing what he did, right?"

"But of course. I didn't break up with him without a reason," she replied, slightly annoyed by the reminder of Ron's infidelity.

The two sat in an amiable but slightly awkward silence for a few more minutes until Hermione glanced at her watch.

"Well, I suppose I should go now," she said, standing up from her seat. "Thanks for the chat, Harry."

"Any time," he replied with a smile, wishing that his other best friend hadn't been such a sodding idiot and thanking Godric that he and Ginny were happily engaged.

Hermione then made her way out of the Auror office and towards the lifts that would take her back to her own cubicle in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Halfway to her office she changed her mind, sent a note to her boss, and left the building, heading for the closest pub.

Roughly four hours - and many, many drinks, later - Hermione left the pub and stumbled out onto the darkening streets of wizarding London, slowly attempting to weave her way back to her apartment. She had barely walked four steps when she heard someone shout, "Granger!" She stopped abruptly, wobbling a bit, then turned around and cursed at the sight of a familiar tall, blond wizard, his hair bright even under the dimming sky.

"Wha' do you want?" she asked, quite proud that she was able to keep her slurring to a minimum.

"Merlin, Granger, are you drunk?" he exclaimed in disbelief as he neared her. Never did he think that he would see the Gryffindor bookworm inebriated and staggering through the streets.

"Maybe," she sniffed, grabbing onto a nearby lamppost for balance, seriously regretting wearing heels to work that day.

Draco continued to stare at her in shock, much to her annoyance. She silently glared at him, wishing that he would stop looking at her like that. What was she, a bloody zoo animal? That dumb ferret. She'd teach him to not gape at her… once she got rid of that buggering pounding in her head.

"Well, I'll be goin' now," she finally said, and let go of the lamp and promptly tripped on a loose cobblestone and tumbled towards the ground, only to be stopped by a hand on her arm.

"All right," the Slytherin muttered, holding her upright. "I may dislike you, Granger, but I'm not going to leave you walking around like this." He shook his head, sighed, and then Apparated them back to the hallway outside of her flat.

"Do you have your keys?" he asked, shaking her shoulders slightly when she didn't respond. "Granger?"

"Um," she said, tilting her head to the right, apparently thinking very hard about the question. "I dunno," she finally answered, shrugging. "Mebbe they're in my bag." She glanced down at herself, then looked up and blinked owlishly. "I think I left my bag at work."

Draco sighed, then headed towards his door, dragging Hermione along.

"Wait, where are ya going, Draco?" she protested, pulling on his hand.

He stopped walking. "What did you call me?"

"Draco?" She peered at his shocked face in confusion. "Isn't that your name?"

"Uh…" He scratched his head, wondering if she had completely lost her marbles from the alcohol or Apparition or both.

"Oh my!" she gasped, her eyes widening as a thought occurred to her. "Are you Draco's twin?" She looked excited, and then prodded his cheek. "You sure look like him. Are you the evil twin or the good twin? Pro-buh-lee the good one, 'cus the real Draco's a meanie."

"Oh Merlin," he groaned, swatting her hand away. "Come on, you obviously need to sleep the alcohol off."

When they finally made it inside his flat, he propped her up on the couch and went in search of some Sobering potion, then returned to find her walking around his living room, sans heels.

"What are you doing?" he asked, placing the glass of potion on a table in the centre of the room.

"I like this book," she announced, waving Hogwarts, A History at him. She then dropped it, underestimating its weight. "Oops."

Draco walked over, picked up the fallen book, then guided Hermione back to the couch and instructed her to drink the potion.

"It looks funny," she commented, wrinkling her nose at the unappetizing swirl of greenish-brown liquid. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, Granger, you have to drink it."

She pouted, but gulped down the potion anyway.

"Do you feel any better now?"

"A little. My head's not so fluffy anymore."

He nodded, then sat on the other couch and carefully asked, "What were you doing in the pub?"

She stared. "I was drinking, duh. I thought you were smart."

He rolled his eyes. "I know that. I meant, why were you drinking?"

"Oh." She leaned back into the couch and sighed. "Ron's a meanie." She looked at him with large brown eyes, then continued. "He slept with Lavender Brown, and then I dumped him, the meanie."

He was silent for a bit, surprised by the news, and wondered why on earth Weaselbee would cheat on Granger with the Brown bint. Well, to each his own, he concluded.

"Anyway, I didn't feel good earlier, so I went out and got drunk. It was kinda fun." She giggled, and he looked at her in alarm.

"Are you… giggling?" he asked, his pale face a portrait of shock swirled with a dash of horror.

"Uh, yeah?" She giggled again, and he continued to stare, causing her to giggle even more until she suddenly yawned and said, "I'm tired, Draco. Can I go to sleep?"

He shook his head, clearing his mind of thoughts concerning the strangeness of the situation, then got up and directed her to the spare room. Once she was safely asleep, he headed back to the kitchen, shaking his head in disbelief over the bizarre night he'd had.

"Ow," groaned Hermione as sunlight flooded through the window and pierced her already throbbing head. She blearily looked around in confusion at her strange surroundings, then winced as she remembered the events of the day before.

"Why did I drink so much?" she muttered, slowly getting out of bed, hoping that Malfoy hadn't gotten up yet so she could slip out unnoticed. To her dismay, he was sitting at the kitchen table when she exited the room.

"Good morning, Granger," he said, eyeing her warily.

"Morning," she mumbled, sitting in the chair across from him.

He pushed a glass towards her which she examined before asking, "Pepper-up potion?"

He nodded. "It should help with your hangover."

"Thanks," she said, and drank the potion, grateful for the ease in the pounding in her head.

"Help yourself." He gestured to the food on the table, and continued eating his bread.

She grabbed a piece of buttered toast, munching hungrily, and then said, slightly grudgingly, "Thank you for bringing me back. I probably would have fallen asleep in some alley if you hadn't."

He waved a hand dismissively and replied, "What kind of neighbour would I be if I'd let you roam around London, drunk as a fish? Anyway, your behaviour yesterday was rather amusing."

She groaned in embarrassment. "That's why I don't drink often," she mumbled, her face turning red.

"I can tell," he smirked, his grey eyes cautiously amused.

She rolled her eyes, pretending to be irked his presence, but was, in reality, unexpectedly comfortable with his company.

"Well," Hermione said once she finished her food. "I'll be going, then. It was actually kind of nice to spend time with you," she admitted, then quickly added, "since you weren't being such a prat, for once."

He grinned a grin that she had never seen before, a slightly lopsided one that made him look more human, in a way, a grin that made her stomach flip and her heartbeat quicken as he replied, "See you around… Hermione."

"Let me get this straight," said Harry, motioning for Hermione to stop pacing while he collected his thoughts. "You fancy Malfoy?"

"I don't know!" she wailed in distress, her curly hair seeming to have a life of its own as she paced around Harry's office.

"But it's a definite possibility?" Harry looked at his friend in concern as she continued to walk back and forth in front of his desk.

"Maybe!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with panic. "Ever since that night two months ago, he's been nice and funny and witty, and he helped me organize all of my books by subject and then by the author's last name, and he had actually read a lot of the books, and he's smart and has a really, really attractive face, and- ". She suddenly stopped talking, stopped moving, in fact, and stood, statue-like, as realisation dawned on her.

"Merlin's pants," she breathed, and then turned to face Harry, shocked and just a tad bit scared. "I like Malfoy." She blinked rapidly, seemingly at a loss over what to do about this discovery. "Oh dear Merlin. Harry, what should I do?"

The Chosen One looked at Hermione hesitantly, unsure of what he should say. "You could maybe tell him how you feel?" he suggested, uncertainty seeping through his voice.

She stared at him for a good while, and he began to fidget in his seat, wondering what had possessed him to stupidly suggest that she tell Malfoy about her feelings for him.

"You're right."

Harry gaped at her sudden announcement in complete and utter shock.

"I'm going to tell him," she declared, then marched out of his office and proceeded to Apparate to Malfoy Enterprises.

A mere ten minutes later, Hermione stood outside the huge, shiny wood doors that led to Draco's office, suddenly devoid of all of the reserve and determination that had led her to this situation. After speculating over the wisdom of her decision, she finally resolved to continue with her plan. After all, if he didn't return her feelings, she could always live with Harry and Ginny until she found another flat far, far away from the Slytherin and the humiliation associated with him.

And so she pushed open the door and strode into his office, stopping only when she reached his desk.

"Hermione?" Draco looked up, surprised by the sight of her standing in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

She took a deep breath, prayed for some Gryffindor courage, then bluntly asked, "Do you like me?"

"Pardon?" He stared at her in confusion, wondering what on earth she was doing in his office with her hair in slight disarray and a rather fierce expression on her beautiful, beguiling face.

She sighed with impatience and repeated, "Do you like me?"

"Um." He paused, unsure of what she meant. "As in…?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll rephrase that. I just figured out that I have feelings for you, Draco, and I would really like to know if those feelings are returned."

He sat back in his chair, flabbergasted by her frank statement and slightly afraid of what she would do if he told her exactly how he felt about her, about how he had always found her to be brilliant and bold and utterly captivating even when he despised her for her blood and her know-it-all attitude. Finally, he simply said, "Yes," and she smiled at him, joyful, exuberant, and delighted by his answer, then proceeded to snog him in a fittingly enthusiastic manner.

And that, dear Reader, was the beginning of everything.