One of Diamond, One of Stone

A Passion for Potions

Wrenching out of Draco's grip, Hermione turned and strode into the dungeon without a backward glance, and he followed with a small smirk on his face, his eyes not leaving her for a second as he slipped into his seat between Crabbe and Goyle.

'Well, now that we are all present...' Snape began, and Hermione managed to block him out quite successfully as she concentrated on organising her equipment for the lesson.

'Hey, 'Mione!' hissed Ron, leaning round Harry to talk to her. She ignored him, so he elbowed Harry. 'Oy, get Hermione for me!'

Harry also nudged her, but she was too busy arranging he r stationery to pay him much attention.

'I suggest you don't waste your breath there, Potter. It appears Miss Granger has...moved on.'

He shot a look at Draco, who was sitting and apparently listening attentively, no expression on his face.

Hermione, however, looked up instantly, an expression of horrified rage etched on her face. 'What are you implying?' she asked icily, her body language and expression betraying the emotion she was trying to hide.

At this, the few members of the class who hadn't been paying attention snapped up, staring in shock at the first person in what seemed to be forever to dare talk like that to Snape.

The professor himself, however, had the Snape equivalent of an amused smile on his face. 'I'm surprised you haven't heard yet, Miss Granger. Everyone else in the school certainly has.'

'Found out what?'

'What's been going on between you and Mister Malfoy.' As if on cue, Seamus, Dean and Neville burst into a rousing chorus of Peeves' song, while Harry and Ron sent death glares over at a smug Draco.

'THERE IS NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN ME AND DRACO!' Hermione shouted, and it was only in the silence that followed that she realised her slip. Clamping one hand to her mouth in realisation, she looked round at the stunned faces of the class, including Snape himself.

Draco was the first to recover, and much to everyone's surprise, he looked at Hermione and pouted, eyes pretending to fill with tears. 'But, Mia, I thought you loved me,' he said in a strangely convincing voice. For some reason, the Slytherins found this hilarious, and soon many of them were literally rolling on the ground with laughter, while Draco sat still, not letting his gaze leave Hermione, and he was smiling sincerely, if such a thing was possible, both eyebrows raised, daring her to think of a comeback.

Just as Harry and Ron were standing up, ready to curse him, Snape called order. It was strange for him to have left it so long, but everyone thought that even the teachers would be intrigued by this sudden comradeship between the rival houses. 'I would like to remind you that you are about to undertake a serious examination,' he began, the tone of his voice quelling any remainder of the apparent anarchy that had reigned mere moments before. As he handed out the assignments they were to fulfil, Hermione's mind travelled back to what she'd just said.

It was weird; she hadn't thought about it, it had just...come out. But she had to admit that 'between me and Draco' did sound better than 'between me and Malfoy', and it was easier to say.

Glancing down at the tasks they were to complete, Hermione was pleasantly surprised. The first two tasks were third-year level work, and the final question was to create your own potion using the ingredients listed. Satisfied that she would enjoy this test, she settled down to work, suddenly stopping when she remembered the conversation she and Draco had had outside--Okay, so now she was calling him Draco in her thoughts. But it was actually easier to say, and think, then 'Malfoy', which seemed a mouthful at the best of times.

Then, she felt eyes on her back, and turned round slowly, trying not to be obvious. She didn't even need to try and guess who it was.

'What?' she mouthed angrily.

'Fail,' he replied simply, his expression once again daring her to disobey.

She responded with a string of silent profanities, at which he laughed slightly, putting one hand to his heart and moving back in an exaggerated motion.

'The great Granger knows words like those?'

Just as she was about to show him just how wide her vocabulary really was, she felt the familiar shadow of Snape fall on her desk, and she turned back quickly.

'Is Mister Malfoy proving to be a distraction to you?'

As the class once again turned to look at her, Hermione felt her cheeks beginning to burn again. 'No, sir,' she said hastily, immediately allowing her gaze to fall back to the paper on the table. Snape merely nodded and continued his 'patrol' of the room.

Unhappily, Hermione poured a liberal amount of diluted ostrich saliva into her cauldron, trying to avert her gaze from the dusky pink mush in front of her that was supposed to be a powerful sleeping draught but had turned out to be...well, even she herself didn't know, and she couldn't turn this in for the 'create your own...' task as she had absolutely no idea what it was meant to be for.

Tears were threatening to fall by the time she'd unsuccessfully completed the second section, especially as the arcs of powder-blue smoke signifying Malfoy's success wafted over to where she was standing.

Bottling the potion, she muttered a quick charm to clean out her cauldron before rereading the final task for what felt like the hundredth time.

'Using only the ingredients from the list, as many or as few as are required, concoct a potion of your choice or design, stating in writing its purpose, its effect, how it was made and how you came to invent it.'

Looking down at the ingredients, she could see at least five possible combinations, as well as three or four that would be absolutely useless. Better go for one of those, then. Now, there was one that would turn into a giant ball of wax or something...no, she wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of failing really badly. She could still fail if she only just got this wrong, rather than having bottom marks in the class.

It was pretty clever of him, though, she mused as she added a slice of shrivelfig to the shredded asphodel already lying in the cauldron. Not everyone could fail deliberately, because you had to know what was right to know what was wrong. She glanced round the room again, deliberately avoiding Malfoy, and she watched as a small explosion came from Neville's cauldron. She loved Neville really, but she had a feeling that if he tried to deliberately fail a potions exam he might actually pass. It wasn't his fault he wasn't good at potions, and she had a feeling that fear of Professor Snape had an awful lot to do with it, as did the constant teasing of those stupid Slytherins, one in particular...

Damn Malfoy.

There, he was Malfoy again. Possibly because 'Damn Draco', although alliterative, was...well, listen to it. Damn...Draco...it didn't go.

Hermione shook her head again, puzzling at the weirdness of her thoughts - why alliteration? - before it occurred to her how strange it was to have not had an English class in six years. Or maths. Or science. When you thought about it, so many Muggles, her parents included, had so much more...knowledge than she or any other students at the school. Sure, they could be brilliant, complete geniuses - genii? Maybe they should have made English language an option here - but it was not the type of knowledge that would get them anywhere in the real world. To be able to recite the dates of the Goblin Rebellions was one thing, but employers would usually find basic physics more useful, not that many Hogwarts pupils would be looking for employment in the 'Muggle World', but it was still something to marvel at.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by a faint sound coming from behind her, and she reluctantly turned to where he was, taking in the smug expression on his face as he smirked down into his cauldron.

'Lovers in the long grass

Look above them

Only they can see

Where the clouds are going.

Only to discover

Dust and sunlight

Ever make the sky so blue.'

The sound soon developed into music, a hauntingly chilling melody that Hermione vaguely remembered hearing when she had been in Diagon Alley that summer. She recognised the lyrics to be from a song by Enya, and wondered briefly if Enya was a witch, before listening again to the tune itself, which was distinctly different to the song she remembered.

'Afternoon is hazy,

River flowing,

All around the sounds

Moving closer to them;

Telling them the story

Told by Flora...

Dreams they never knew.'

Yeah, it was different all right - there seemed only to be a single Irish pipe playing in the background, and the light, carefree feeling the original song brought with it had been replaced with a sound of what could almost be classed as despair or mourning.

'Silver willows,

Tears from Persia,

Those who come

From a far-off island.

Winter Chanterelle lies

Under cover;

Glory-of-the-sun in blue.'

By now, the whole class had turned to stare, Dean whispering something about such a proud pureblood listening to Muggle music, but Hermione barely noticed. She had never been affected by the spell of the Veelas, but now she understood what it must be like. This song was hypnotic, absorbing, and she could feel herself falling...

'Some they know as passion,

Some as freedom,

Some they know as love

And the way it leaves them.

Summer snowflake

For a season,

When the sky above is blue.'

It was as if she was in a trance, relying on the music, it was pulling her somewhere, but she didn't know where. All she knew was that something terrible would happen if she didn't follow, so she did. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew there was something about those words, some reason for this particular song to be playing, but this was barely noted as the singing once again began to flow around her.

'Lying in the long grass,

Close beside her

Giving her the name
Of the one the moon loves;

This will be the day she

Will remember,

When she knew his heart was

Loving in the long grass,

Close beside her,

Whispering of love

And the way it leaves them,

Lying in the long grass,

In the sunlight,

They believe it's true love.'

Oh, what was it about that song? There was something in the lyrics, something she knew she was meant to notice, if she could only place it...but then there was singing again, and she found herself lost once more.

'And from all around them,

Flora's secret,

Telling them of love

And the way it breathes and

Looking up from eyes of amaranthine

They can see the sky is blue,

Knowing that their love is true...

Dreams they never knew...

And the sky above is blue...'

And with the dying notes, Hermione skyrocketed back down to earth, and landed with a thud on the stone floor of the dungeon.

When she came round, the first face she saw was of Malfoy, looking genuinely concerned, although his amazing acting skills had been proven time and time again. 'You all right down there, Mia?' he asked, seeming to have grown fond of this new nickname for her.

'I'm fine,' she replied shortly, adding, 'No thanks to you,' under her breath. Ignoring the hand he offered her, she stumbled to her feet with the aid of the nearest desk. 'What happened?'

'I was just commenting on Mister Malfoy's perfectly concocted Cantare potion,' Snape interjected, his trademark sly smile on his face, 'And the fact that he passed his exam with the highest marks in all the years I have taught here. Now, how is Gryffindor's resident know-it-all doing?'

Hermione set her mouth in a thin line and turned back to her cauldron, where the simmering mixture had just finished boiling down to ashes.

'I'm afraid I'll have to fail you, Miss Granger,' he continued, his expression and tone showing none of the sadness he spoke of. 'None of these tasks have been successfully completed, and I would assume that someone who other members of the staff regard so highly would no never to mix holly roots with ivy leaves unless you wish for Professor Dumbledore to have these dungeons fumigated.'

As the class got ready to leave, all having suffered Snape's 'judging' of the potions, he made one last announcement, not allowing the subtlety many other professors would have. 'Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, you are to serve your detentions here with me on Friday evening at eight.'

Now more awake than she had been during last night's incident, Hermione was ready to complain. 'Professor Snape, prefects are allowed out after hours, aren't they?'

'Yes, but I sincerely doubt that two o'clock in the morning is an appropriate time for anyone to be wandering around. Besides, Madam Pince needs her rest as much as we do, which is why the library closes at seven every evening. Now, if you have no further complaints, I suggest you leave me to clear up this mess you've made...' he finished, gesturing towards Hermione's table, whch was now beginning to melt as an after-effect of her exam. 'And fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor for talking back to your potions master.'

With that, Snape practically pushed the pair out of the door, after one last shared smirk with Malfoy, leaving the two alone in the corridor once again.