Potions Homework

Potions Homework

3. The Romancing of Hermione Granger

Draco was released from the hospital wing that afternoon. Unfortunately, that meant he hadn't missed History of Magic. Fortunately, it meant he had a whole class period to plot the finer points of romancing Hermione in lieu of taking notes about the 56^th Goblin Rebellion. Stubborn creatures never seemed satisfied with their current situations and, apparently, throwing fits about it was their solution.

Ignoring Professor Binns and his monotone droning was easy, but to avoid prying eyes from his fellow Slytherins was harder. Draco was forced to sit at the front of the room and clearly in the teacher's view, but Binns seemed to take Draco's scribbling of "roses, girls always like roses" for notes on Grylfink the Ghastly's biography. Draco didn't bother to remedy this misconception.

Her hair...he loved her hair. And her beautiful cinnamon-brown eyes. Maybe she'd like a sonnet about it? Better than a serenade, obviously, as she wasn't likely to be impressed by his off-key rendition of "Brown-Eyed Girl". This was hard. Draco chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. He'd never thought romancing a girl would be hard. That half of the species [as well as certain members of the other half, but he wasn't going to dwell on that] had continually thrown themselves at him since the beginning of his 5^th year after a growth spurt over the summer and lots of Quidditch practice. He wasn't used to chasing girls. Running from unwanted attentions, he'd had plenty of experience with, but never the opposite.

Of course, this was a little more difficult than per the norm. Hermione did, after all, hate him, and so did her two best friends. He hadn't exactly shown her his nicest side either, what with all the name-calling and insults. But Draco was over that. It was a thing of the past. He wouldn't let some silly blood lineage [or his father's certain rage] get in the way of true love! Omni Vincit Amor. Love conquers all. Hermione would be his. Draco always got what he wanted.

If only he could figure out how.

Stifling a groan, Draco buried his face in his hands. This was harder than Arithmancy, which was saying something! But he was good at Arithmancy...he'd find a way to overcome the small issue of his enmity with the dream team and win Hermione's heart...right? Raising his head, Draco stared thoughtfully through Professor Binns at the slightly blurred outline of the window behind him [ghosts were more translucent than transparent]. His silver eyes narrowed.

Speaking of Arithmancy...

Didn't Hermione take Arithmancy?

His heart leaped. Yes! He had an idea...well, an inkling of an idea, but it was better than nothing. Arithmancy...help with homework, maybe? A tutoring session, just the two of them alone... Or maybe... Draco suppressed a smile of glee [Malfoy's never smiled or grinned, Rule #51 in the Malfoy Family Code of Conduct. Only sneers, smirks, and scowls were allowed. As well as deliberately blank expressions]. This could go so many different ways! He was a genius. Of course, that was implied: he was a Slytherin, and a Malfoy at that.

Mind flying with possible ideas, Draco dipped his eagle quill in the inkwell with a satisfied smirk and proceeded to record his thoughts on parchment.

~

"Well, we're off to Quidditch practice. Later, Hermione." Harry and Ron left the Great Hall after a filling dinner (A/N: I'm sorry. Apparently, I have this thing with starting scenes off with meals in the Great Hall. Maybe I'm hungry.) and headed back to their dorms to fetch their Quidditch robes and broomsticks before heading for the pitch for their fourth practice of the week. Hermione waved them off with a smile. She finished up her vegetables and as her dinner plate vanished, a dish with a slice of pumpkin pie appeared.

Her favorite dessert! She dug into it happily. As she forked off a bite, making sure to include the dollop of whipped cream on top, a scattered dozen of owls flew in through the rafters. All seemed in fair condition [except a brown barn owl that straggled to the Ravenclaw table in a manner that reminded Hermione fondly of Errol] for the night, according to the enchanted ceiling, was clear and twinkling brightly with stars, making for good flying weather.

Her eyes drawn towards a large, majestic eagle owl and its royal hoot, Hermione was surprised to see it flying in her direction. While she was used to the evening post, though most of the mail came in the morning during breakfast, she rarely received messages at night. Nonetheless, the owl swooped down in front of her and dropped a single red rose next to her plate. She gaped at it.

"Are you sure that's for me?" she asked the owl. It hooted indignantly, fluttering its wings at the implication that it didn't deliver its package correctly. "Sorry." Hermione absently held her goblet of pumpkin juice out and the owl dipped its beak in for a drink.

"Hermione!" Lavender Brown leaned down the table, curious as ever. "Who's that from?" She gestured at the rose.

Parvati Patil peered around her friend's shoulder, her long, dark hair falling across her shoulder. "A rose! Is this from a secret boyfriend?" she teased. "How come you didn't tell us about him, Hermione?"

Hermione flushed slightly. "I--I don't know who sent it." She eyed the owl that had just finished its fill of pumpkin juice. "Does the owl look familiar?"

Lavender and Parvati both shook their heads solemnly. "Is there a card?" asked Lavender.

There was! Hermione fingered the card hanging from the stem. "Hermione," she read out loud. Her eyes skimmed quickly over the next words and she blushed, red, and refused to read the rest aloud. It was a moot point when Parvati reached over and grabbed the card from her hand.

"Hermione. Your eyes are the color of dark chocolate and your hair is wild cinnamon curls. Your smile shines like the sun; you are a ravishingly beautiful girl. Your skin looks so soft, the color of peaches and cream. Your voice is smooth like honey: it haunts my nightly dreams. I love the way you walk and talk, and your brilliant intelligence too. I can't get you out of my head; there's no denying that I love you... Meet me at the Astronomy Tower. Now. I'll be waiting." Parvati looked up. "Hermione," she said, grinning, "Someone is so besotted! Who is it?"

"I don't know," Hermione insisted, still red. She snatched the rose back and stood up, ready to abandon her unfinished pumpkin pie and leave. She had to think.

"Are you meeting him?" Lavender called out as Hermione hurried towards the doors. She received no reply. "I bet she is," the blonde said gleefully to her friend.

Hermione was almost out of the Great Hall when she heard Ginny's voice. "Hermione! Wait." The redhead reached her, breathing heavily. "What was that about?" she asked as they pushed open the doors and started towards the Gryffindor tower.

"Someone sent me a rose," muttered Hermione. She explained about the poem and request and her dorm mates' endless curiosity. "I have no idea who it is," she reiterated, shaking her head. "I don't even know if this is for real and not just some prank."

Ginny scratched the back of her neck. "But aren't you curious?" she asked casually. "About who it is? I mean, what if it isn't a joke? Wouldn't you want to know who's so smitten with you?"

"I don't know..." Hermione smiled privately to herself, thinking that for being the top student in her class, she didn't know a lot of things tonight. "It's a little unsettling," she said. "I mean, how could someone be so in love with me without me ever noticing? It's a bit like having a stalker." She shivered.

"Well, once you find out who it is, you can avoid them then," Ginny answered cheerfully. "I suggest you meet them, if only to tell me who it is!" They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady by then. "You never know, you may like them back!"

"Unlikely." But Hermione agreed. She was curious too. Ginny gave the Fat Lady the password and they climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had decided the wisest choice would be to borrow Harry's Invisibility Cloak for the escapade because, well, she just didn't want to run into anyone. And this way, she would be able to see her mystery admirer before he could see her, which would give her an advantage if she wanted to leave without him knowing she was there.

Smiling blithely at the a few third-years in the common room, she made her way to the boys' dormitory and retrieved Harry's cloak from his trunk. He wouldn't miss it. She planned to be back before Quidditch practice was over. With the cloak tucked firmly under her robes, she returned to the common room and ducked out through the portrait hole again. Ginny smiled knowingly from her position on the couch, chatting with one of her fifth-year friends.

Once outside in the hall, Hermione checked that no one was around then quickly pulled out the cloak and swung it around herself. The silvery fabric shimmered in the pale moonlight filtering in from a nearby window, and then faded to show nothing but a quiet stone hallway. Gentle footsteps were heard padding in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

~

He was in agony. Where was she? Was she coming? Did she like his poem? Of course she was coming, he reassured himself, taking a deep breath. No one could resist him...right? Well, as long as she didn't.

He knew somewhere inside of him that upon first glance at who her secret admirer was, she'd laugh and turn on her heel, leaving him staring at her retreating back. It would be an instinctive response to six years of mutual enmity and he could expect no less. But he was desperate to change her mind.

He wasn't sure where this love for her had sprung up from but he couldn't turn away from it. It would eat him up from inside if he didn't act on it, declare it, show it, prove it to the world. He was head over heels and he wanted her to know it. And love him back. Yes, that would be nice. Unrequited love had never been his thing. But most importantly, he wanted to show her how he felt.

He'd taken measures to insure their privacy and had also summoned comfortable cushions and blankets to pad the floor, with flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. Hopefully, they would be blown out later so they could look at the stars together. He'd always been fascinated in the night sky and hoped to share the experience with her.

If only she'd come.

He'd never been the patient sort, apparently.

His eager ears heard the soft rhythm of footfalls nearing. His heart picked up. She was here!

~

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked, looking tired as he crawled through the portrait hole behind Harry. Dean Thomas, another Chaser, followed them in. They were all in Quidditch robes, dirt and grass stains smeared across the scarlet cloth, and holding broomsticks. They tracked mud across the room, which prefect Sera Li cleaned with a quick spell and an irritated look, and headed for the stairs to shower and change.

Harry and Ron paused at the foot of the stairs, letting Dean up first as they waited for an answer to Ron's question.

Seamus Finnigan shook his head. "I haven't seen her since dinner."

Lavender's head popped up from where it lay on his shoulder [they'd been going out since 4^th year] and eyed Harry and Ron with a gleam in her eye. "You're looking for Hermione?" she asked. They nodded and she smiled broadly. "She went to the Astronomy Tower."

"Why?"

"After you guys left for Quidditch practice, the mail came. Hermione got a rose and love poem from a secret admirer." Lavender giggled. "You should've seen her face! It was so cute. She went to meet him at the Astronomy Tower...an hour ago."

Harry paled. "What?"

"How could she run off and meet some random guy?" Ron asked, looking panicked. "That's...mental! She doesn't even know him!"

"An hour?" repeated Harry, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"We have to go get her, Harry." Ron tugged anxiously on his sleeve. "C'mon. We have to see if she's okay!"

Harry elbowed him. "Let's get the cloak," he whispered. They disappeared up the stairs. A minute later, everyone in the Gryffindor tower was treated to Ron's anguished howl, "HOW COULD SHE TAKE IT?!"

~

"Malfoy!" Damn. She'd be so stunned she'd forgotten she was under the Invisibility Cloak. Now he knew she was here. His tall form whirled around and she reluctantly let the fabric fall to the ground.

"Granger." Damn. Inherent response. "Hermione."

Her brown eyes flicked over him suspiciously. "What're you doing here?" She gazed at the cushions and candles littering the floor.

"I think it would've been obvious." Draco took a step towards her, his gaze intent. "I can't believe you actually came."

She inhaled shakily, a musky scent she deduced must be his cologne mingled with the smell of the crisp night air. She couldn't believe it. Draco Malfoy? Could it really be? Hermione shook her head mentally. The ever-smirking Slytherin who took joy in insulting her, Harry, and Ron, and making them angry? The boy who'd cruelly called her "Mudblood" in every other sentence, made fun of Ron's family, and mocked Harry's dead parents? How dare he presume she'd...

He took another step towards her, his pale blonde hair highlighted in the golden glow of the candles.

Well, his taunts had been less frequent. And he rarely made fun of Harry's parents or Ron's family anymore. He'd focused instead on teasing their incompetence in Potions class, lack of skill on the Quidditch field, and poor fashion sense...

He really was less cruel than he had been, Hermione admitted.

But that didn't mean she liked him! It didn't mean anything of the kind.

"I think I love you, Hermione." He was so close...and he was...smiling? There was no mistaking the soft curve of his lips. Hermione stared. The rare occurrence made him look so...appealing. He really should smile more often.

"Y-you hate...how could...you don't even know me, Malfoy," she sputtered, jerking herself out of her thoughts.

He shook his head at her. "My name is Draco," he told her softly. "Say it."

"Why?" she asked defiantly.

"Say it."

He took another step closer to her. "Draco," she whispered. Her heart was thumping wildly. She couldn't believe she was alone with Draco Malfoy. She couldn't believe she was alone with Draco Malfoy and she liked it. For there was no mistaking the electricity that ran through her bloodstream for anything but attraction. She was flustered by his proximity.

"Hermione. Give me a chance." His silver eyes peered down at her pleadingly. "I've changed. I promise." His hot breath fanned her cheek as he placed his lips right next to her ear. "Give me a chance to prove it."

"Draco."

His name escaped her lips on a gasp and he took the opportunity to cover her mouth with his. Draco, she thought feverishly, helpless to do anything against his gentle assault but kiss him back. Draco.

~

"Eureka!"

Dumbledore looked mildly over Snape's shoulder. "I take it you've found the last ingredient, Severus?" he asked.

Snape was triumphant, his dark eyes gleaming. He held up a bottle of black penswingle, a mixture of crushed beetle wings and pensike root. "This is it," he declared. "Once I brew this with the rest of the ingredients, the antidote for the Amoura Potion will be complete."

"I congratulate you, Severus." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "It is indeed quite a feat you have performed. The antidote for a potion such as the Amoura is hard indeed to come by."

"The blasted things are illegal. There not supposed to have antidotes because no one's supposed to use them!" The Potions professor looked annoyed. "Of course that Weasley boy would be stupid enough to start blowing this up in my room. Of all the idiotic things to do!"

"Now don't be too harsh on Mr. Weasley," cautioned Dumbledore. "He was provoked, you know."

Snape growled low in his throat. "The boy should have better self-control in a school environment," he snapped.

"That may be so. However, order will be restored tomorrow." Looking quite satisfied, the headmaster of Hogwarts nodded at Snape and began to help clean up. He waved his wand and things flew back into their bottles and bottles back on their proper shelves. "I presume you'll be giving Mr. Malfoy the antidote tomorrow?"

Snape nodded in assent. "I shall have him see me before classes begin tomorrow." He grimaced. "Hopefully, all will be well and no idiot uttered that ridiculous activation word in his presence in the last few hours."

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "I'm sure it's unlikely. Very few people find the same joy in saying 'hugz-o-palooza' that I do. It's highly uplifting."

--