Not a Whisper of a Doubt

"Shove off, Malfoy. I don't have time to deal with you right now," Hermione stated crisply, pushing her way past the blonde, who was blocking the pavement and subsequently her way to the library she worked at. She had gone no more than two steps beyond him when she heard him turn around and open his mouth again.

"You really are just Potter's creature," Draco sneered, as - once again - Hermione quoted her best friend.

The act was purely unconscious, of course, as the three of them - herself, Harry and Ron - had known each other since first year; they were all quoting each other by now. Regardless, she turned, glaring into his silvery grey eyes.

"Of course I'm not! That's ridiculous!" she exclaimed, the tone of her voice clearly showing her disapproval at the comment.

Hermione had no creature blood, nor did she belong to Harry, in any way, shape or form. They were simply best friends, and that was all; they were closer to each other than either of them was to the rest of their respective families, and there was no reason why they shouldn't be. After all, they were perfect for each other; each of them had strengths that nullified a weakness in the other, and as a result they were practically unstoppable together, despite being so fresh out of Hogwarts. They shared a flat, but she and Ron were more than competent in keeping the paparazzi at bay and, between the three of them, they could make the perfect wards to keep out all undesirables.

"Really?" Malfoy replied, folding his arms and raising a single blonde eyebrow, as if in utter disbelief. "Then prove it."

He had said it, those two simple words that incited her to use her biggest skill: finding and displaying evidence. Even though she wanted to work as a Muggle, Hermione's friends and colleagues had always said that she should be a lawyer of some sort, due to her knack of finding evidence and information and using it to the advantage of herself and those around her. However, she wanted something simple; there had been enough adventures in her school years to last her a lifetime, and all Hermione yearned for now was simplicity, something to bring her back to her Muggle roots. Finally, she had found it, her niche in the world, and she was happy. Malfoy was trying to turn all that on its head, but she wouldn't let him. She would, however, indulge in this little game, not to prove to him, but to prove to herself that she was different from Harry and Ron in other ways than her sex.

"Fine, then, I will. Now, if you'll excuse me; if I don't leave now, I'll be late for work," she replied, a slight frostiness in her voice, aware of Malfoy's eyes lingering on her as she turned and left, completely able to see the smirk that was almost permanently etched on the blonde's features.

She walked the remaining distance to work, her pace brisk, fuming ever so slightly whilst also silently berating herself at rising to the bait - the bait of Draco Malfoy, no less! Really, such behaviour was childish; attempting to prove to him that she wasn't a 'pet' of Harry's, although it was insulting to call her a creature. Hermione had been working with Harry and Ron, who were both in the Ministry, to get those labelled as 'Creatures' proper 'People' status, which would give them the same rights as everyone else.

She entered the library with a scant five minutes to spare and settled at her desk, beginning automatically to work on her tasks. In her mind, there was not a whisper of doubt that she would be able to prove to Malfoy that she was different from her friends, but the question that plagued her was not whether she could, but how she would. Hermione realised that the question would require almost no thought at all; the answer was right in front of her.

The first piece of evidence was the place in which she worked; while both Harry and Ron worked in the Ministry of Magic, Harry as an Auror and Ron in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, she was over ten miles away from them, far on the opposite side of London, working in a Muggle library. While she was sure that would not be enough to completely placate the blonde, Hermione was sure that, at the very least, it was a good start.

However, as she picked up a pen to jot down her first idea, something else struck her; she had no clue when or how Malfoy was going to get her proof. After a few moments of thought, however, she realised that, Malfoy being Malfoy, he was sure to keep in touch with her, especially since there was something he wanted; after all, how else would he be able to know in the event that she failed? Malfoy was bound to want to use such an eventuality to continually irritate her, likely for the rest of her days. Even though accepting the challenge he had proposed had been hasty, Hermione had a definite feeling that she would be able to overcome it.

There was even some comfort to be found in the knowledge that she had to go along with it; she was Hermione Granger, often thought of as the sharpest witch in their year, and if she sat and thought about something hard enough - and for long enough - and combined her musings with the proper amount of research, there was not an intellectual problem that she could not solve. With a satisfied smile, she started, once again, on her day's work, only pausing momentarily throughout the day, in order to add to her list as she thought of new ideas for her response to Malfoy's challenge.