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She sees them the moment she walks into the aquatic center. Even worse, she can hear them.
Pool sharks.
That’s what Hermione calls the gaggle of men and women who come to the pool to ogle the Slytherin Swim & Dive team, Draco’s summer league. While she can grudgingly admit that some of the sharks have a tiny bit of knowledge about competitive swimming, most don’t and spend their time giggling and pointing and taking pictures.
They’re not even discreet about it.
“Grumpy already?”
Marcus Flint is a large man. Those who know him call him a giant teddy bear but upon first glance, he’s intimidating and looks like someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone. Which is why the pool sharks always shoot him frightened glances before lifting their phones to take pictures of Adrian on the platform before a dive.
Hermione wishes she could be more intimidating so they’d be scared of her too.
“They’re hovering again,” is all she says to Marcus as she plops down next to him.
It’s warm – like always – so she immediately removes the grey sweatshirt with the black snake up the arm and MALFOY across the front. Unfortunately, it’s a mass-produced item for the illustrious swimmer, so she can’t even use it to claim her status as his girlfriend.
Marcus whistles at her playfully, and she smacks his arm. She’s wearing a tank top but that’s not the part Marcus notices. No, it’s the black snake that curls around her upper arm, its head resting across her collarbone. M-A-L-F-O-Y is printed above it, tiny letters in green.
“That’s… Is that an actual tattoo?”
“Temporary!” Hermione laughs, the sound echoing. Of course that’s when the entire place goes nearly silent, so it sounds even louder.
On the plus side, Draco (and others on the team) hears her and looks over. His face lights up and he lifts both arms in the air while grinning. In response, Hermione does the same before blowing him a kiss. She watches as some of the team nudge him but he rolls his eyes and shoves them away.
In the next minute, Draco jumps into the practice pool.
Hermione loves watching him in the water. In general, she loves watching the sport, enjoys it immensely even if it sometimes causes her blood pressure to rise with its intensity. She’s pretty sure it causes her more stress than her pre-med classes. But watching Draco is an entire experience.
In the practice pool, Draco doesn’t exert himself. His swimming almost looks languid even if Hermione knows they’re not. She watches as his arms swing forward during his fly, back muscles bunching up every time he comes out of the water. She focuses on the motion of his arms during the free, yelling for him each time his head turns to the side for another gulp of air.
“He’s still having trouble on his back,” Marcus murmurs to her. His eyes are tracking Draco too since the divers are on a break. “I thought they were working on that.”
Hermione lets out a long sigh. “They are. He is.” She tries not to cringe at the obvious lack of speed. “God, that’s terrible.”
“Aren’t you supposed to always be supportive?”
“Shut up, Marcus.”
After a chuckle, he does as she says. His attention turns to the diving boards when they start up again but Hermione’s eyes are glued to the practice pool. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s staring at Draco, who is climbing out of the pool. He snags his towel from one of the bleacher bars and runs it over his chest. His abs. Down his legs briefly before flinging the small fabric over a shoulder.
She almost lets out a whimper when he shakes his head, droplets of water flinging away from his hair.
“Hermione Granger, right?”
Hermione lets out a sigh, one of exasperation this time. To her right is a slim girl with a short bob haircut. Her makeup is impeccably done and she’s wearing a dress that is highly inappropriate for the pool considering how many stairs need to be climbed to get to the seats.
“Yes, Pansy. You’d think you’d recognize me after all of your time at the pool.”
Pansy Parkinson is a pool shark. A Pool Shark, with capital letters. She is the epitome of the apex predator, constantly finding the weak-willed swimmers and divers who happily take her on their arm to parties. They usually only last a month at the most but if rumors are true, their time in bed - or on the couch or up against a wall or in the shower or a car - with her is worth it.
Lately, she’s had her eyes on Draco. But because he knows he’s got the best of the best, Draco ignores Pansy as best as he can without being an absolute asshole. That means Pansy still pursues him every chance she gets.
“Well, it’s just that —”
“Hermione!”
The women are interrupted by none other than Draco, who stands at the top of the bleachers. He’s reaching over the glass barrier that separates the athletes from the spectators, phone in hand. With a frown, Hermione stands and walks down the three steps and meets him.
“Mum wants a video of my heats, if you can.”
Their fingers brush when she takes the phone from him. “I could have done it from my phone.”
He looks pointedly at her before glancing over at Pansy. A quick glance around shows that no one else is paying attention to them so he leans over and gives her a quick peck on the lips. “I know.”
Hermione is shaking her head as she returns to her seat, nudging Marcus’ knee with her own when he chuckles. “Adrian at last year’s championship,” is all she says and Marcus shuts up.
“So you and Draco.”
“God, Pansy, are you still here?” Normally, Hermione keeps her cool but she just does not have the patience today. She answers the questions she usually hears. “Yes, I am with Draco. For a few years now. No, we are not having problems. Yes, I go to as many meets as possible. It’s because I enjoy swimming.”
Pansy makes a face. “Sure. More like you enjoy staking your claim over The Water Dragon.”
Marcus guffaws. Hermione blows air out of her mouth as she fiddles with Draco’s phone, making sure to be obvious about putting in his password. “You know he hates that moniker, right?”
It’s a stupid nickname. During one of his first meets for their university, an overly-enthusiastic commenter compared Draco to what he believed a water dragon might look like in water. To be fair, it isn’t off the mark. When Draco swims, he looks at home , sluicing through the water like he was born there. Despite his struggles with the backstroke, he makes the sport look easy.
But he was spitting mad at the end of the meet because it was all the team and interviewers called him.
Pansy sitting in the row in front of her shakes Hermione out of her musings. The girl’s eyes are wide, a touch of malice in them. “Really? Why?”
“Because it’s dumb,” Hermione intones harshly.
“But his name is Draco.” Another girl joins them, a petite little thing with long dark hair.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
For the next two hours, Hermione ignores them, focusing instead on the meet. She screams Draco’s name during his heats, only just remembering to throw his phone at Marcus to record. Draco places first in almost all of his events. The 400 IM is close — very close — between Draco and Cedric Diggory, a swimmer from the Badgers who is well on his way to Olympic trials.
“Fucking back,” Hermione mumbles.
Still, Draco manages to place second.
“Cedric is hot, too.”
Somehow, a crowd of Pool Sharks have congregated around Hermione. She wants to scream for them to go away, but she doesn’t. Only because Marcus grips her shoulder and whispers, “Just ignore them.”
Thirty minutes later, Adrian joins them, hair still wet. The sharks swarm him but Marcus only laughs and flicks his fingers at his boyfriend. “Be nice to your fans,” he says under his breath.
In the end, the Slytherin team racks up the most points, winning overall. Draco stays level during his time trials, which Hermione knows will bother him. The aquatic center begins to empty out but Hermione stays, even when Marcus and Adrian leave to meet Adrian’s parents outside.
The sharks stay too, probably because Hermione does.
It takes a little bit for Draco to come out. Since this center is the Slytherin’s base, there’s no need to rush to meet a bus. While she waits, Hermione sends videos to Narcissa and fiddles around with Draco’s phone. She takes a picture of her temporary tattoo, thinking it’ll be a nice surprise for him at a later date.
“Hey, love.”
Hermione looks up to see Draco in front of her, pointedly ignoring the few girls who are trying — and failing — to be sneaky about taking his photo. When she stands, Draco reaches out immediately, fingers brushing over the snake across her collar.
“Oh, hello.”
“I took a picture.” Hermione says it almost primly, very proper, which makes Draco laugh. “For when I’m too busy studying to come over.”
“Well, you do know how much I love my name on you.”
The sharks are watching them closely. Water Dragon is muttered more than once and Draco cringes, but Hermione strokes her fingers down his neck. He visibly relaxes.
“Dinner?” Hermione asks.
“Mmm,” he makes a sound of agreement. “Are we meeting Potter and Gin?”
“He’s your roommate. Can you not call him by his first name?” She shakes her head. “But yes. They’re back from their trip.”
Draco hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder. It’s a giant, overfilled thing that makes Hermione grimace because she knows how heavy it is. As soon as she stands, Draco grabs her hand and laces their fingers. He starts to walk up the steps but Hermione pauses.
She looks over her shoulder to the women. Catching Pansy’s eye, Hermione can’t help but throw her a wicked grin. “In case you were wondering, he’s also a dragon out of the water but you’ll never ride him.”
“Hermione.” But she can see the amusement — and a touch of pride — in his eyes at her words. “Let’s go before you start a riot.”
“Mmk,” she replies cheekily. “Bye, ladies!”
The petite woman — Astoria, Draco will tell her later — is the one who whispers in awe as they leave. “A dragon. ”