Exception Chapter 6: Potions and Problems (Part 1)
A look at Dramione behind the scenes of the Harry Potter series. Posted in two parts because it was too big to combine them all
"Aunt Bella, are you positive that I need to learn Occlumency this year?" Draco asked. He was nervous, but managed to hide this well enough. "After all, Dumbledore wouldn't be trying to read my mind."
It had been a month since school had ended and since then, Draco had acquired a Dark Mark and the task of killing his headmaster. Draco had been terrified when Voldemort had told him that. Kill Albus Dumbledore? The one who had beaten back Voldemort himself just the year before? Draco hadn't even killed anyone before-how was he supposed to kill Dumbledore? Draco had relaxed a small bit when he'd heard that his mother had gotten Snape to agree to an Unbreakable Vow, but if he couldn't complete his first task, how could he expect to become a favored Death Eater? And now he was to learn Occlumency, with his aunt Bellatrix.
Bellatrix had suggested it to Draco's mother, who readily agreed. He would learn Occlumency before he went back to Hogwarts, so Draco was currently stuck in his Aunt's living room, hiding his nerves. Draco didn't really mind until his aunt revealed to him that in the process, she would see glimpses of thoughts and memories. Of course, the first memory that came to Draco's mind was the kiss at the Yule Ball. That was quickly followed by the kiss on the day of Dumbledore's speech. The good-bye kiss. And for the life of him, Draco couldn't find a way to shove them to the back of his mind.
"The Muggle-lover won't be the only one attempting to read your mind Draco, and there are things you will know that others shouldn't be privy to," Bellatrix replied. Then she smiled. "Why do you ask, Draco? Have something in your head you want kept secret?"
Draco straightened and set his jaw. "Of course not. Now can we get this over with?"
"As you wish," Bellatrix said, sneering as if she would enjoy finding out the reason for his reluctance. "Legilimens!"
Draco had begun to build up a resistance in his mind, knowing exactly what he didn't want his aunt to see. He built an imaginary wall around it while pushing out Bellatrix's invasion of his mind. She still saw many of his memories, but definitely not the one she wanted to see. Eventually, the living room came back to view and Draco found himself on all fours, breathing hard from the effort.
"Not bad," Bellatrix said, with an evil glint in her eye. "But you were focusing on protecting one thing, and you let all other memories be seen. You must completely clear your mind."
Draco stood up and took a deep breath, trying to do so. He had barely started when he heard, "Legilimens!"
And that was when Draco knew all was lost. First came the train ride, not too much of a surprise as Draco revealed that to his father years ago. Then came the conversation third year. Next was the dance. And suddenly, Hermione was running into him, crying, and Draco knew he had to put a stop to it. Stop! Leave! Go away! he screamed in his mind, but Bellatrix wouldn't. She pushed harder, and then Draco was holding Hermione, and she was holding him. Her lips were so soft-
"STOP!" Draco screamed.
He was on the floor again, tears welling in his eyes. It was over. It was all over. His aunt would kill him, or banish him from the family. His parents would never look at him again. They would probably go after Hermione as well. And he was imagining that time when he was eleven-so much pain, so many tears. He barely even heard his aunt's raged screams until she kicked him over.
"You've disgraced the entire family! Your mother is going to hear about this right now! She'll probably disown you or kill you. Honestly, I'd prefer the latter."
"Of course you would, dear Auntie Bella," Draco growled under his breath. It wasn't unheard, however, and Draco received another kick in the ribs.
"How dare you!" she shrieked. "How dare you even associate yourself with me? I am ashamed to be related to you! And to think, I helped your mother protect you for the task ahead! It's no wonder you're so unprepared for this!"
"What, because I kissed a Mudblood? Once?" Draco yelled back. "She has nothing to do with this, Mudbloods hardly ever do! You can't take it all out on them!"
Bellatrix suddenly stopped in her ranting and raving. Her eyes widened and she bent over to look at Draco, who tried his best to keep looking at her as she said, "Are you defending Mudbloods, Draco?"
"Yes," Draco whispered, clenching his teeth together, as the pain in his ribs began to flare up. This was probably for the best, as Bellatrix proceeded to slap Draco so hard that his head snapped painfully to the side. Then, she roughly pulled him to his feet and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.
"What do you mean snogged-?"
"Defended-!"
Draco hardly listened to his mother's exclamations of disgust for the simple fact that he didn't care anymore. All was lost and he knew that he was most likely about to be tortured, then thrown from his house, and promptly disowned. And that was the best-case scenario. There was also the possibility that he wasn't about to live for more than-
"We don't say anything-nothing happened." Draco lifted his head at his mother's voice. He couldn't believe it.
"Mother-"
"Hush, Draco," she said without even turning. "Bella, the Dark Lord mustn't know about this, or we all could be killed. Draco was given this task for a reason, and we all know it wasn't because it would be good for any of us."
Bellatrix looked like she was conflicted, but eventually, she stepped back. "Draco, tell me that you don't really care for the Mudblood-at least not anymore."
Draco hesitated, but he knew what he had to say. "It would be ridiculous if I did, Auntie."
"Then it seems we have nothing to worry about," Draco's mother said. "Draco was just being a young boy at the time, testing his limits. However, Bella, I think this means that we must ensure that the Occlumency lessons continue, as the Dark lord may not be so forgiving."
"Very well Cissy," Bellatrix said. "But know I'm only doing this for you."
"Of course, Bella," Narcissa said with a nod, as Bellatrix led Draco out of the room.
When they were out of earshot, Bellatrix grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him close so she could hiss, "You're lucky I care about my sister's safety right now, but if I see one more image of that filthy Mudblood, you will feel a pain worse than death."
Draco nodded as they Apparated away.
Hermione thought she'd imagined the voice as she walked into Madame Malkin's, but when she saw Harry and Ron bristle, she knew that Draco actually was in the same shop, and he was being his typical rude self.
And he saw her in the mirror.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in."
Hermione didn't much care for the words, as he'd said similar things throughout her years at Hogwarts. What worried her was that the way he was looking at her showed genuine anger and disgust. It was the look he gave Harry and Ron, but it was almost never directed at Hermione before. She wondered at what could have happened.
"And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" Hermione heard Madam Malkin say.
"No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it…." Hermione whispered hastily, realizing that Ron and Harry had their wands drawn.
The rest of the encounter was just a typical Malfoy vs. Harry encounter, and Hermione thought it all a bit ridiculous because wasn't Draco just being himself? And Hermione felt terrible thinking this, thinking that Draco actually was a terrible, terrible boy, and she kept finding herself defending him.
And then, that theory was proven right when they all tailed him at Borgin and Burke's. Draco was definitely up to something, and Hermione had to know what it was. Therefore, she walked into the store trying to figure it out, hoping against hope it wasn't too awful.
It annoyed her that she couldn't find what it was, and she really wanted to forget about the whole thing, so that she wouldn't have to confront her conflicted feelings. And therefore, the fact that Harry had to bring it up nearly every day was making her impatient.
After realizing that Draco hadn't been strutting around, flashing his Prefect's badge on the school train days later made more questions floated around in Hermione's head. This whole situation was bothering Hermione, but it seemed to bother Harry even more. If Hermione was trying to defend him, then Harry was doing the opposite. He was borderline obsessed with the whole thing, trying to prove that Draco was up to something terrible.
And to be honest, Hermione wasn't too sure she disagreed with Harry.
Draco knew that he had begun to feel resentful to everyone. Spending weeks with his Aunt Bellatrix tended to do that to a person. When he'd seen Hermione in Madame Malkin's, Draco felt that she was ruining his entire attempts to get her as far away from him as possible. And then Potter listening to the whole conversation on the train-well, he hadn't really liked Potter in the first place.
The entire school year seemed pointless to Draco. He barely focused in his classes. All he could think about was his task and the plan he had with the vanishing cabinets. What did NEWTs matter when it wasn't likely he would be in the school the next year anyway?
One class, however, Draco paid attention to-Potions, with the new teacher, Slughorn. It started when he'd walked by a cauldron with a potion in it that smelled like the heather in his home's large property, aged books and-something that definitely smelled satisfying though Draco couldn't quite define, but he definitely recognized.
Then, Hermione had explained exactly why he smelled what he did. "According to what attracts us", she had said. So why couldn't he figure out what that last scent was? And what had been Hermione's last scent, the one she was too embarrassed to say?
"No, I don't think so sir, I'm Muggle-born, you see," Draco heard Hermione say.
"It's like she proud of it," Draco said to Nott, amused not at Hermione, but from Hermione herself, being herself.
And then it all happened in quick succession. Slughorn was looking at Potter and Hermione as if they were together, and Weasly looked jealous of whatever Potter had said. And thenSlughorn gave Granger points-the first to a Gryffindor in a potions class in Draco's entire year. Added to thoughts of the potion plus the constant thoughts of his task, and Draco was outright overwhelmed.
And then: "It's liquid luck. It makes you lucky!"
Luck! Of all things, Draco needed this the most. How could one go wrong with luck? So Draco immediately turned forward and began diligently working on the potion that would reward him with this treasure. He knew he wasn't really terrible at Potions-he was intelligent and made high marks-but he knew that Snape would have given him the Felix Felicis no matter what. Unfortunately, this new teacher wasn't about to be persuaded, and Draco began to realize his potion wouldn't be good enough to be the best, not with Hermione in the same classroom.
Draco looked over and saw, to his surprise, that Hermione actually seemed frustrated and-it couldn't be-her potion wasn't much better than Draco's. He smirked at this. Maybe he had a chance…
POTTER?
How could Potter, the potions dunce-the one who had to take remedial potions have been the best in the entire class? And especially in a class with Hermione Granger? Surely Snape hadn't taught Harry that well.
Draco slammed his book shut and stormed out of the classroom, fuming. As if Potter needed a lucky potion. He was Dumbledore's favorite, had won the Triwizard Tournament, and didn't people suspect him of being the "Chosen One"? Luck seemed to come freely for Harry Potter.
In his anger, it took until Draco was around the corner before he realized that he'd caught a whiff of that unidentifiable smell from the potion. And in the next second, Draco ran back in his memory to discover that it had been Potter, Weasley, and Granger that he had passed. Another second, and Draco realized that Hermione had been the one nearest him-that it was her he had smelled in the love potion.
Well, wouldn't that please his family?
Hermione nearly forgot about the love potion ordeal due to her anger at Harry for using the old textbook. She knew most of the problem was just her jealousy of Harry's win, but a lot of it was also because of her fear of whoever had written it. Who knew what kind of person they were-especially if they wrote in a school textbook?
And then, later that night, when Harry was in his meeting, Hermione roamed the school hallways with the pretense of prefect duties but really just so she could mull things over alone. She had found that she did this frequently, and it helped her sort through thoughts of the day.
This particular day, she was reminded of the Amoretia love potion. She knew what she had smelled-it had been too overpowering for her not to have known. Plus, the first sniff had brought Hermione back to the memory of last year, and the hug she and Draco had shared, because Hermione's third smell had been the combination of soaps specific to Draco, magnified that night by his recent bath.
Hermione knew that Amorteia, though it's effect was essentially to attract a person to the potion-user, could also confirm the existence of true-non-obsessive-love to another individual by the smell. If that was correct, then Hermione had to come to terms with the fact that she was in love with Draco Malfoy. Hermione may have been fine with this, had she not been intelligent enough to know that love for Draco would get her nowhere. Not with his family.
The thing was that Hermione knew that a heart could change, over time. She also knew that Ron was developing major feelings for her and though unrequited at the present time, Hermione felt that Ron was a good person and-as Ginny and Harry were so obviously in love-her potential next love.
Hermione felt horrible, planning out her love for Ron by playing with his feelings, but she knew it was for the best. Besides, Ron was a really good person to fall in love with, so it wouldn't be hard…
But then Ron had to go and start snogging Lavender Brown.
She knew it was mostly Ginny's argument-told to her by Harry-that sparked it, but Hermione still thought she was partially to blame with her bashing of his Quidditch skills. But really, Ron was usually so pathetically horrible at Quidditch matches-how could she not think that Harry had tried to help their friend?
But the downside to it all was that her plan was destroyed and she was back to a love for Draco that, even if requited, was useless. It made her angry, angrier than it should have. How dare Ron choose a time like this to decide to be defiant!
After the incident with the birds, Hermione had stalked off down the halls in her usual habit, though it was the first time doing so with tears.
The roller-coaster of emotion had begun to calm down after a while, but it quickly started up again at the sight of Draco. To be honest, he looked horrible-his eyes were red from lack of sleep, his normally perfect hair seemed ruffled, and his robes looked like he'd been wearing them for a while. And Hermione couldn't put her finger on exactly what happened, but when their eyes met, either Draco suddenly seemed happier and brighter or Hermione's imagination only made it look that way to her.
"Granger," he whispered.
"Malfoy," Hermione replied with a slow nod.
Draco's lips curled slightly into the barest hint of a smile. "I see you've stopped using my given name. Good."
"That could be due to the fact that Harry likes to bring up your name about every day," Hermione said, provoking Draco to raise one of his eyebrows.
"Potter talks about me?" he asked.
"He's suspicious of you, and based on your behavior this year, I'm not sure I shouldn't be either." Hermione crossed her arms.
"The middle of a hallway is hardly a good place to discuss things like these, Granger. Shall I direct us to a more private area, or would you wish to avoid me now?" Draco said, sounding overly formal-almost as if he were restraining himself from saying something else.
"Fine," Hermione agreed, and she knew she was taking a huge risk in adding with a smile, "As long as it's not another broom closet."
Of all the reactions Draco could have responded with, a wince was not one Hermione had expected. In fact, it hurt her that he did so. Did he think that the kiss was a mistake? Did he wish she had forgotten about it?
Still, Draco continued to lead her to another empty classroom, shutting the door before abruptly turning to face Hermione. The look on his face almost frightened her.
Draco wished he hadn't run into Hermione, wished he hadn't said anything, because now he was in an empty classroom without any knowledge of what he was about to say to her. All that came to mind was that terrible sense of fear when his aunt had found the memory of the two of them, and he knew by Hermione's expression that the horror was showing on his features. He quickly tried to rearrange his features into something that showed less emotion.
"Draco…what have you been up to this year?" Hermione eventually asked.
"I can't tell you that, Granger," Draco whispered.
"But you can, Draco," Hermione said, taking a step forward. "And maybe I can help."
"Even if I could tell you, Granger, I wouldn't. You'd despise me even more than you already do," Draco said, looking away from her piercing gaze as he took a step back.
"I don't despise you, Draco, I-" she seemed to have gotten something stuck in her throat, rendering her unable to talk.
"You what? Were you trying to say that you think I'm an okay person? But you couldn't, could you? Not without-"
"I love you, Draco."
Draco felt like she'd slapped him again.
"I-you…say that again?" Draco spluttered. "I'm sure I must have misheard-"
"No, you heard right, Draco," Hermione said. "Amortiea proved it for me, above all else."
Draco let out a slow, sad breath. He had even more proof than Hermione. Yes, he had smelled her scent in the potion, but there was also another sign. When Draco had been in the Room of Requirement, he had stumbled upon a partially obscured mirror. He didn't know why someone would want to hide a mirror in such a place, so Draco had taken off the cover.
And he knew this was no ordinary mirror, because the first thing he realized was that his left arm was bare not only of a sleeve, but of a Dark Mark as well. And then he noticed that his right hand was holding onto none other than Hermione's. She was smiling, which made Draco's reflection mimic her. And the most important part: His parents behind him smiling as well, nodding their approval, also Dark-Mark-less.
Draco had stared at this image for hours before he realized that none of it was realistic, and that it was only distracting him from his duty. He hastily covered up the mirror, but the image stayed with him. Now, it came back full force as proof that he returned the love for Hermione. But even with her words, the image was just as unobtainable.
"You shouldn't have said that," he said in a low voice. He walked over to the other side of the room, getting as far away from that intoxicating scent as possible.
"And why's that?"
"Because I love you, too Hermione," Draco said simply. He saw her eyes widen and heard her intake of breath, feeling horrible for continuing, "But it doesn't matter. Besides my family's absolute hatred of you, which I might add has increased after a quick peek into my mind, you will hate me by the end of this year. That, I can promise you."
"But why will I hate you, Draco? And what do you mean their hatred of me has increased?" Hermione asked.
"Just trust me, Granger, in that it will be hard to love a person like me after what I'm going to do. And as for my family, well, let's just say that they read my mind and now they know full well what happened at the Yule Ball."
Hermione gasped. "No! Please don't tell me you were Cr-"
"No, though I'm sure Aunt Bellatrix wanted to." Another gasp. "Anyway, it's only my father who does that and he's…not exactly home at the moment. My mother was the one who decided to keep everything quiet."
"So…what does all this mean?" Hermione said. Draco saw the hope in her eyes, and it crushed him to destroy it.
"It all means nothing really, just that we're back where we were before-maybe a bit farther away even. And next year, I probably won't even be here."
Draco saw in her eyes the desire to ask the question again, but she suppressed her urge. And after clenching her teeth together, she turned around, headed towards the door. Draco knew instantly that seeing the back of Hermione didn't feel good for his heart. Unless…
"Hermione, wait," he said, striding across the room until he could hold onto her arm and spin her around. He saw the tears that had begun to form in her eyes, and he immediately knew that he was doing the right thing.
Taking her other arm, Draco pulled Hermione close and then leaned down so that their lips connected. He kissed her as gently as he could, drawing it out so that he could savor every moment of it. Hermione didn't seem to mind, as she stepped forward and returned the kiss. It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time both of them had come up for air, both breathing heavily.
"What happened to us being back where we started?" Hermione breathed, resting her head on Draco's chest. He welcomed the feel of his arms around her once more.
"I-I was just trying to remind you that I loved you. No matter what happens, I'm not sure if that will change," Draco said. Hermione lifted her head and stepped back.
"Well, I'll keep that in mind, Draco," she said with a nod. This time, when she turned around, Draco was perfectly fine with letting her go.
Next Chapter
"Aunt Bella, are you positive that I need to learn Occlumency this year?" Draco asked. He was nervous, but managed to hide this well enough. "After all, Dumbledore wouldn't be trying to read my mind."
It had been a month since school had ended and since then, Draco had acquired a Dark Mark and the task of killing his headmaster. Draco had been terrified when Voldemort had told him that. Kill Albus Dumbledore? The one who had beaten back Voldemort himself just the year before? Draco hadn't even killed anyone before-how was he supposed to kill Dumbledore? Draco had relaxed a small bit when he'd heard that his mother had gotten Snape to agree to an Unbreakable Vow, but if he couldn't complete his first task, how could he expect to become a favored Death Eater? And now he was to learn Occlumency, with his aunt Bellatrix.
Bellatrix had suggested it to Draco's mother, who readily agreed. He would learn Occlumency before he went back to Hogwarts, so Draco was currently stuck in his Aunt's living room, hiding his nerves. Draco didn't really mind until his aunt revealed to him that in the process, she would see glimpses of thoughts and memories. Of course, the first memory that came to Draco's mind was the kiss at the Yule Ball. That was quickly followed by the kiss on the day of Dumbledore's speech. The good-bye kiss. And for the life of him, Draco couldn't find a way to shove them to the back of his mind.
"The Muggle-lover won't be the only one attempting to read your mind Draco, and there are things you will know that others shouldn't be privy to," Bellatrix replied. Then she smiled. "Why do you ask, Draco? Have something in your head you want kept secret?"
Draco straightened and set his jaw. "Of course not. Now can we get this over with?"
"As you wish," Bellatrix said, sneering as if she would enjoy finding out the reason for his reluctance. "Legilimens!"
Draco had begun to build up a resistance in his mind, knowing exactly what he didn't want his aunt to see. He built an imaginary wall around it while pushing out Bellatrix's invasion of his mind. She still saw many of his memories, but definitely not the one she wanted to see. Eventually, the living room came back to view and Draco found himself on all fours, breathing hard from the effort.
"Not bad," Bellatrix said, with an evil glint in her eye. "But you were focusing on protecting one thing, and you let all other memories be seen. You must completely clear your mind."
Draco stood up and took a deep breath, trying to do so. He had barely started when he heard, "Legilimens!"
And that was when Draco knew all was lost. First came the train ride, not too much of a surprise as Draco revealed that to his father years ago. Then came the conversation third year. Next was the dance. And suddenly, Hermione was running into him, crying, and Draco knew he had to put a stop to it. Stop! Leave! Go away! he screamed in his mind, but Bellatrix wouldn't. She pushed harder, and then Draco was holding Hermione, and she was holding him. Her lips were so soft-
"STOP!" Draco screamed.
He was on the floor again, tears welling in his eyes. It was over. It was all over. His aunt would kill him, or banish him from the family. His parents would never look at him again. They would probably go after Hermione as well. And he was imagining that time when he was eleven-so much pain, so many tears. He barely even heard his aunt's raged screams until she kicked him over.
"You've disgraced the entire family! Your mother is going to hear about this right now! She'll probably disown you or kill you. Honestly, I'd prefer the latter."
"Of course you would, dear Auntie Bella," Draco growled under his breath. It wasn't unheard, however, and Draco received another kick in the ribs.
"How dare you!" she shrieked. "How dare you even associate yourself with me? I am ashamed to be related to you! And to think, I helped your mother protect you for the task ahead! It's no wonder you're so unprepared for this!"
"What, because I kissed a Mudblood? Once?" Draco yelled back. "She has nothing to do with this, Mudbloods hardly ever do! You can't take it all out on them!"
Bellatrix suddenly stopped in her ranting and raving. Her eyes widened and she bent over to look at Draco, who tried his best to keep looking at her as she said, "Are you defending Mudbloods, Draco?"
"Yes," Draco whispered, clenching his teeth together, as the pain in his ribs began to flare up. This was probably for the best, as Bellatrix proceeded to slap Draco so hard that his head snapped painfully to the side. Then, she roughly pulled him to his feet and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.
"What do you mean snogged-?"
"Defended-!"
Draco hardly listened to his mother's exclamations of disgust for the simple fact that he didn't care anymore. All was lost and he knew that he was most likely about to be tortured, then thrown from his house, and promptly disowned. And that was the best-case scenario. There was also the possibility that he wasn't about to live for more than-
"We don't say anything-nothing happened." Draco lifted his head at his mother's voice. He couldn't believe it.
"Mother-"
"Hush, Draco," she said without even turning. "Bella, the Dark Lord mustn't know about this, or we all could be killed. Draco was given this task for a reason, and we all know it wasn't because it would be good for any of us."
Bellatrix looked like she was conflicted, but eventually, she stepped back. "Draco, tell me that you don't really care for the Mudblood-at least not anymore."
Draco hesitated, but he knew what he had to say. "It would be ridiculous if I did, Auntie."
"Then it seems we have nothing to worry about," Draco's mother said. "Draco was just being a young boy at the time, testing his limits. However, Bella, I think this means that we must ensure that the Occlumency lessons continue, as the Dark lord may not be so forgiving."
"Very well Cissy," Bellatrix said. "But know I'm only doing this for you."
"Of course, Bella," Narcissa said with a nod, as Bellatrix led Draco out of the room.
When they were out of earshot, Bellatrix grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him close so she could hiss, "You're lucky I care about my sister's safety right now, but if I see one more image of that filthy Mudblood, you will feel a pain worse than death."
Draco nodded as they Apparated away.
Hermione thought she'd imagined the voice as she walked into Madame Malkin's, but when she saw Harry and Ron bristle, she knew that Draco actually was in the same shop, and he was being his typical rude self.
And he saw her in the mirror.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in."
Hermione didn't much care for the words, as he'd said similar things throughout her years at Hogwarts. What worried her was that the way he was looking at her showed genuine anger and disgust. It was the look he gave Harry and Ron, but it was almost never directed at Hermione before. She wondered at what could have happened.
"And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" Hermione heard Madam Malkin say.
"No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it…." Hermione whispered hastily, realizing that Ron and Harry had their wands drawn.
The rest of the encounter was just a typical Malfoy vs. Harry encounter, and Hermione thought it all a bit ridiculous because wasn't Draco just being himself? And Hermione felt terrible thinking this, thinking that Draco actually was a terrible, terrible boy, and she kept finding herself defending him.
And then, that theory was proven right when they all tailed him at Borgin and Burke's. Draco was definitely up to something, and Hermione had to know what it was. Therefore, she walked into the store trying to figure it out, hoping against hope it wasn't too awful.
It annoyed her that she couldn't find what it was, and she really wanted to forget about the whole thing, so that she wouldn't have to confront her conflicted feelings. And therefore, the fact that Harry had to bring it up nearly every day was making her impatient.
After realizing that Draco hadn't been strutting around, flashing his Prefect's badge on the school train days later made more questions floated around in Hermione's head. This whole situation was bothering Hermione, but it seemed to bother Harry even more. If Hermione was trying to defend him, then Harry was doing the opposite. He was borderline obsessed with the whole thing, trying to prove that Draco was up to something terrible.
And to be honest, Hermione wasn't too sure she disagreed with Harry.
Draco knew that he had begun to feel resentful to everyone. Spending weeks with his Aunt Bellatrix tended to do that to a person. When he'd seen Hermione in Madame Malkin's, Draco felt that she was ruining his entire attempts to get her as far away from him as possible. And then Potter listening to the whole conversation on the train-well, he hadn't really liked Potter in the first place.
The entire school year seemed pointless to Draco. He barely focused in his classes. All he could think about was his task and the plan he had with the vanishing cabinets. What did NEWTs matter when it wasn't likely he would be in the school the next year anyway?
One class, however, Draco paid attention to-Potions, with the new teacher, Slughorn. It started when he'd walked by a cauldron with a potion in it that smelled like the heather in his home's large property, aged books and-something that definitely smelled satisfying though Draco couldn't quite define, but he definitely recognized.
Then, Hermione had explained exactly why he smelled what he did. "According to what attracts us", she had said. So why couldn't he figure out what that last scent was? And what had been Hermione's last scent, the one she was too embarrassed to say?
"No, I don't think so sir, I'm Muggle-born, you see," Draco heard Hermione say.
"It's like she proud of it," Draco said to Nott, amused not at Hermione, but from Hermione herself, being herself.
And then it all happened in quick succession. Slughorn was looking at Potter and Hermione as if they were together, and Weasly looked jealous of whatever Potter had said. And thenSlughorn gave Granger points-the first to a Gryffindor in a potions class in Draco's entire year. Added to thoughts of the potion plus the constant thoughts of his task, and Draco was outright overwhelmed.
And then: "It's liquid luck. It makes you lucky!"
Luck! Of all things, Draco needed this the most. How could one go wrong with luck? So Draco immediately turned forward and began diligently working on the potion that would reward him with this treasure. He knew he wasn't really terrible at Potions-he was intelligent and made high marks-but he knew that Snape would have given him the Felix Felicis no matter what. Unfortunately, this new teacher wasn't about to be persuaded, and Draco began to realize his potion wouldn't be good enough to be the best, not with Hermione in the same classroom.
Draco looked over and saw, to his surprise, that Hermione actually seemed frustrated and-it couldn't be-her potion wasn't much better than Draco's. He smirked at this. Maybe he had a chance…
POTTER?
How could Potter, the potions dunce-the one who had to take remedial potions have been the best in the entire class? And especially in a class with Hermione Granger? Surely Snape hadn't taught Harry that well.
Draco slammed his book shut and stormed out of the classroom, fuming. As if Potter needed a lucky potion. He was Dumbledore's favorite, had won the Triwizard Tournament, and didn't people suspect him of being the "Chosen One"? Luck seemed to come freely for Harry Potter.
In his anger, it took until Draco was around the corner before he realized that he'd caught a whiff of that unidentifiable smell from the potion. And in the next second, Draco ran back in his memory to discover that it had been Potter, Weasley, and Granger that he had passed. Another second, and Draco realized that Hermione had been the one nearest him-that it was her he had smelled in the love potion.
Well, wouldn't that please his family?
Hermione nearly forgot about the love potion ordeal due to her anger at Harry for using the old textbook. She knew most of the problem was just her jealousy of Harry's win, but a lot of it was also because of her fear of whoever had written it. Who knew what kind of person they were-especially if they wrote in a school textbook?
And then, later that night, when Harry was in his meeting, Hermione roamed the school hallways with the pretense of prefect duties but really just so she could mull things over alone. She had found that she did this frequently, and it helped her sort through thoughts of the day.
This particular day, she was reminded of the Amoretia love potion. She knew what she had smelled-it had been too overpowering for her not to have known. Plus, the first sniff had brought Hermione back to the memory of last year, and the hug she and Draco had shared, because Hermione's third smell had been the combination of soaps specific to Draco, magnified that night by his recent bath.
Hermione knew that Amorteia, though it's effect was essentially to attract a person to the potion-user, could also confirm the existence of true-non-obsessive-love to another individual by the smell. If that was correct, then Hermione had to come to terms with the fact that she was in love with Draco Malfoy. Hermione may have been fine with this, had she not been intelligent enough to know that love for Draco would get her nowhere. Not with his family.
The thing was that Hermione knew that a heart could change, over time. She also knew that Ron was developing major feelings for her and though unrequited at the present time, Hermione felt that Ron was a good person and-as Ginny and Harry were so obviously in love-her potential next love.
Hermione felt horrible, planning out her love for Ron by playing with his feelings, but she knew it was for the best. Besides, Ron was a really good person to fall in love with, so it wouldn't be hard…
But then Ron had to go and start snogging Lavender Brown.
She knew it was mostly Ginny's argument-told to her by Harry-that sparked it, but Hermione still thought she was partially to blame with her bashing of his Quidditch skills. But really, Ron was usually so pathetically horrible at Quidditch matches-how could she not think that Harry had tried to help their friend?
But the downside to it all was that her plan was destroyed and she was back to a love for Draco that, even if requited, was useless. It made her angry, angrier than it should have. How dare Ron choose a time like this to decide to be defiant!
After the incident with the birds, Hermione had stalked off down the halls in her usual habit, though it was the first time doing so with tears.
The roller-coaster of emotion had begun to calm down after a while, but it quickly started up again at the sight of Draco. To be honest, he looked horrible-his eyes were red from lack of sleep, his normally perfect hair seemed ruffled, and his robes looked like he'd been wearing them for a while. And Hermione couldn't put her finger on exactly what happened, but when their eyes met, either Draco suddenly seemed happier and brighter or Hermione's imagination only made it look that way to her.
"Granger," he whispered.
"Malfoy," Hermione replied with a slow nod.
Draco's lips curled slightly into the barest hint of a smile. "I see you've stopped using my given name. Good."
"That could be due to the fact that Harry likes to bring up your name about every day," Hermione said, provoking Draco to raise one of his eyebrows.
"Potter talks about me?" he asked.
"He's suspicious of you, and based on your behavior this year, I'm not sure I shouldn't be either." Hermione crossed her arms.
"The middle of a hallway is hardly a good place to discuss things like these, Granger. Shall I direct us to a more private area, or would you wish to avoid me now?" Draco said, sounding overly formal-almost as if he were restraining himself from saying something else.
"Fine," Hermione agreed, and she knew she was taking a huge risk in adding with a smile, "As long as it's not another broom closet."
Of all the reactions Draco could have responded with, a wince was not one Hermione had expected. In fact, it hurt her that he did so. Did he think that the kiss was a mistake? Did he wish she had forgotten about it?
Still, Draco continued to lead her to another empty classroom, shutting the door before abruptly turning to face Hermione. The look on his face almost frightened her.
Draco wished he hadn't run into Hermione, wished he hadn't said anything, because now he was in an empty classroom without any knowledge of what he was about to say to her. All that came to mind was that terrible sense of fear when his aunt had found the memory of the two of them, and he knew by Hermione's expression that the horror was showing on his features. He quickly tried to rearrange his features into something that showed less emotion.
"Draco…what have you been up to this year?" Hermione eventually asked.
"I can't tell you that, Granger," Draco whispered.
"But you can, Draco," Hermione said, taking a step forward. "And maybe I can help."
"Even if I could tell you, Granger, I wouldn't. You'd despise me even more than you already do," Draco said, looking away from her piercing gaze as he took a step back.
"I don't despise you, Draco, I-" she seemed to have gotten something stuck in her throat, rendering her unable to talk.
"You what? Were you trying to say that you think I'm an okay person? But you couldn't, could you? Not without-"
"I love you, Draco."
Draco felt like she'd slapped him again.
"I-you…say that again?" Draco spluttered. "I'm sure I must have misheard-"
"No, you heard right, Draco," Hermione said. "Amortiea proved it for me, above all else."
Draco let out a slow, sad breath. He had even more proof than Hermione. Yes, he had smelled her scent in the potion, but there was also another sign. When Draco had been in the Room of Requirement, he had stumbled upon a partially obscured mirror. He didn't know why someone would want to hide a mirror in such a place, so Draco had taken off the cover.
And he knew this was no ordinary mirror, because the first thing he realized was that his left arm was bare not only of a sleeve, but of a Dark Mark as well. And then he noticed that his right hand was holding onto none other than Hermione's. She was smiling, which made Draco's reflection mimic her. And the most important part: His parents behind him smiling as well, nodding their approval, also Dark-Mark-less.
Draco had stared at this image for hours before he realized that none of it was realistic, and that it was only distracting him from his duty. He hastily covered up the mirror, but the image stayed with him. Now, it came back full force as proof that he returned the love for Hermione. But even with her words, the image was just as unobtainable.
"You shouldn't have said that," he said in a low voice. He walked over to the other side of the room, getting as far away from that intoxicating scent as possible.
"And why's that?"
"Because I love you, too Hermione," Draco said simply. He saw her eyes widen and heard her intake of breath, feeling horrible for continuing, "But it doesn't matter. Besides my family's absolute hatred of you, which I might add has increased after a quick peek into my mind, you will hate me by the end of this year. That, I can promise you."
"But why will I hate you, Draco? And what do you mean their hatred of me has increased?" Hermione asked.
"Just trust me, Granger, in that it will be hard to love a person like me after what I'm going to do. And as for my family, well, let's just say that they read my mind and now they know full well what happened at the Yule Ball."
Hermione gasped. "No! Please don't tell me you were Cr-"
"No, though I'm sure Aunt Bellatrix wanted to." Another gasp. "Anyway, it's only my father who does that and he's…not exactly home at the moment. My mother was the one who decided to keep everything quiet."
"So…what does all this mean?" Hermione said. Draco saw the hope in her eyes, and it crushed him to destroy it.
"It all means nothing really, just that we're back where we were before-maybe a bit farther away even. And next year, I probably won't even be here."
Draco saw in her eyes the desire to ask the question again, but she suppressed her urge. And after clenching her teeth together, she turned around, headed towards the door. Draco knew instantly that seeing the back of Hermione didn't feel good for his heart. Unless…
"Hermione, wait," he said, striding across the room until he could hold onto her arm and spin her around. He saw the tears that had begun to form in her eyes, and he immediately knew that he was doing the right thing.
Taking her other arm, Draco pulled Hermione close and then leaned down so that their lips connected. He kissed her as gently as he could, drawing it out so that he could savor every moment of it. Hermione didn't seem to mind, as she stepped forward and returned the kiss. It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time both of them had come up for air, both breathing heavily.
"What happened to us being back where we started?" Hermione breathed, resting her head on Draco's chest. He welcomed the feel of his arms around her once more.
"I-I was just trying to remind you that I loved you. No matter what happens, I'm not sure if that will change," Draco said. Hermione lifted her head and stepped back.
"Well, I'll keep that in mind, Draco," she said with a nod. This time, when she turned around, Draco was perfectly fine with letting her go.
Next Chapter