for the @slytherdornet non-magic au challenge! requested by @cissablack + the prompt: “I sent a selfie of myself in the tub to the wrong number and you responded back with another selfie. Holy shit you’re really attractive”

pairing: draco malfoy x hermione granger

word count: 610 

setting: modern college au

Hermione Granger was so, so, irrevocably fucked.

It had been a complete accident. She hadn’t meant to take the picture, hadn’t meant for her finger to slip and accidentally hit “draco malfoy”, hadn’t meant to send the stupid, stupid, photo to Draco fucking Malfoy, of all the people in her contacts.

Maybe if she just let her phone slip through her fingers and into the slowly cooling water, she wouldn’t have to see his response. She could pretend that she hadn’t even been aware that the picture had sent, could use the- admittedly flimsy- excuse of “oh, I dropped it in water the other night, it must have glitched”.

Yeah right. As if he would ever believe that.

And besides, it wasn’t worth the trouble or the money of buying a new phone. The upside- if there even was an upside, she mused- of this scenario was that she hadn’t seen Draco since high school. Hell, half the time she even managed to forget that he attended the same college as her- a surprising feat in and of itself, considering that she had graduated as valedictorian and Draco-

Well, let’s just say that Draco had relied on nothing more than his father’s legacy to gain admission to Columbia. It was something that left a bitter taste in her mouth; the idea that there were two types of students who gained admission to prestigious Ivy League schools like Columbia, the first being of her sort, the kind that worked hard and earned the right to be there, and the second being of his sort, the kind that rode on the coattails of their ancestors and sneered at down at everyone else.

She frowned, staring at the picture she had inadvertently sent to Draco. There was nothing particularly indecent about it, if you discounted the fact that she was quite obviously taking a bath- there was no nudity, only a headshot of her leaning back against the lip of the tub with a small half-smile on her face, her typically frizzy hair trailing in wet curls down her neck.

She sighs and clicks out of the photo. Her phone automatically reloads with the conversation between her and Draco. Her breath stutters, and she swears her heart beats double, triple time, because Draco has replied.

It’s a picture, and it’s fucking grey because it hasn’t loaded yet, and all she can do is fervently hope it’s not something that will humiliate her more than she has already been humiliated.

Needless to say, she doesn’t have much hope.

She stares at the loading symbol- it’s 85% done, she estimates- until her eyes burn and she’s seeing multiple little grey and white circles everywhere. She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them, and that’s when she sees his reply.

It’s a picture.

Of him.

She frowns. Turns her phone off and on, as if that will make her confusion go away. She opens the text from Draco again and clicks on the picture, and her eyes inevitably track over the lines and planes of his shirtless- shirtless!- torso, the ruffled hair, and the small smirk he wears.

She feels dizzy, and notes that goosebumps have formed along her skin. She tries to convince herself it’s the tepid bathwater, but who is she kidding, because Draco Malfoy has gotten really, fucking, attractive.

She doesn’t know how she feels about that.

Tentatively, she types out a response to him, and she’s awkward and stilted and still so embarrassed, but he finds it amusing, judging by the undertones of his replies.

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