Draco had worked on a handful of Auror cases with Potter before now, and they’d slowly become a bit more than acquaintances. The Weasel was another story though. That ginger prick could take a long walk off a short pier for all Draco cared. In school he thought Weaselbee was a complete twat, looking like a lost puppy between Saint Potter and the bushy haired swot. Only Draco didn’t really think of her as a bushy-haired swot. No, he was  jealous  , jealous that Granger got the high scores, jealous that Granger could just be, without any pressures from her family because her surname  meant  something. He also thought her hair was beautiful, wild and untamable like the witch the curls belonged to.  