Note: First, I do not own Harry Potter or any of J.K. Rowling's characters or works. Second, this chapter may look different because I am currently in the process of editing the entire story. I was getting a little disconnected from writing it because it wasn't quite to the level of some of my other work, so I'm making it better. The plot has not changed, just annoying little mistakes and descriptions. Enjoy!
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in N.E.W.T. Potions class with Professor Slughorn who was introducing four bubbling cauldrons at the front of the classroom. Ron was hunched over, near asleep, wondering if potions was really needed to become an auror. Harry was discretely flipping through used potions book he picked up and was trying not to let Hermione see the remarkable annotations that were telling him how to perfect potions and cast new spells. Hermione, in another show of her heightened intellect, reached near remarkable speeds for hand-raising that lesson. She knew every single potion brewing.
"It's Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless, potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."
"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir."
"It's Amortentia."
"It is indeed. It's almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.
"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"
"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's suppose to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us.. and I can smell freshly mown grass, new parchment, ink, and a mahogany cologne," Hermione spewed, a blush creeping up her neck.
She looked around to see some students staring at her oddly, surprised to see a response other than 'books', but one student in stood out. Draco Malfoy was turning paler by the minute. Within a few seconds he might be transparent. Why would he—oh. Oh no.
"May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment.
"Hermione Granger, sir." (HBP pg. 183-185)
Draco was mentally shutting down. Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Goody-Two-Shoes and school swot, spilled to the entire class that she smelled his cologne in the love potion. He knew it was his because none of the other students in the run-down school wore recognizable cologne. The other budding teenagers preferred the smell of cheap musk and destitution. Who else in the school could afford to buy their spoils in Hogsmeade and smell like the living embodiment of 'dapper', unless they were as spoiled as Draco Malfoy.
Before he knew it, Slughorn asked Draco to smell the bloody potion. He had every intention of lying his arse off, but when the overwhelming scents of the things he loved most in this world filled him as he drank in the sent, he found himself incapable of deceit. "Dragon hide, charcoal, broom polish, lavender and honey," he blurted, blushing all over his alabaster skin. As a child reared to speak with nothing less than either elegance or witty quips, bumbling over his words like a god damned first year was humiliating.
He dared a quick glance at Granger to see her looking pale and stiff as Nearly-Headless Nick when he was petrified. Only a few seemed to take notice of her strange response, Draco included. Dread was filling his every pore. How is it possible? How could two enemies be most attracted to each other? When did this happen? He shot her a 'shut-your-mouth-or-I'll-make-sure-the-giant-squid-eats-you' glare and she replied with a gazing that could only say, 'only-if-you-do-too-you-pesky-little-ferret'.
All the while, Pansy Parkinson was sniffing the inside of her school robes, not smelling a hint of lavender or honey in her strong, rosy perfume. The Slytherins were quietly giggling at Parkinson's antics and Draco's rather romantic response; he was not going to get away with brushing this one under the rug. Potter and Longbottom were questioning Granger on her suddenly strange appearance, Pavarti and Lavender turning to see for themselves. The rest of the Gryffindors were laughing like a bunch of drunk hyenas, Weasley at their head was joking, "So your most attracted to your mother? That's one way to keep your blood pure."
Despite their own muffled snickers, the Slytherins do not condone one of their own becoming the butt of a joke, and they began to crowd around Ron Weasley like a pack of wolves. Draco, now both blushing and angry, swaggered over to the offender and quipped in his normal, bored drawl, "Why don't you smell it? I bet you would smell Potty over there. You know, with your desperate need for attention and companionship, he seems like your perfect match." He glanced quickly at Hermione who crinkled her eyes in a way that said 'thank-you-for-the-diversion', and he replied with a small, not-quite-a-sneer, smile. He realized this was the first good thing he had done for Hermione Granger purposefully. It warmed him, not in an unpleasant way. He let the verbal fighting around him escalate, throwing barbed comments in when needed until Slughorn finally called back attention and proceeded with the lesson.
"Anmortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room…" (186) Slughorn drawled.
Neither Draco nor Hermione could truly concentrate through the rest of the class. Their minds were drowning in their new revelations. They both seemed to be attracted to each other at the worst time imaginable.
Hermione was internally coming un-glued because Malfoy was most likely a Death Eater, and that would complicate the already convoluted situation she was in. She would never help Malfoy with his endeavors as a servant of the Dark Lord, and he would never help the Order- thus going against his family. It would only gave ammunition to Voldemort should anything ever go wrong. On top of that, she was also attempting to wrap her head around the concept of being attracted to Draco -ferret face- Malfoy. She thought for sure her little crush on Ron that she had been nursing since third year would come out when sniffing the potion, not Malfoy's overly expensive cologne. Now she had a small growing seed at the back of her mind telling her that maybe, just maybe, she was unwilling to admit a deeper attraction to her childhood enemy, however, she pushed the growing thought to the back of her mind and buried it with all the torment he had caused her over the years. She had no idea what to do with it, and it's not as if they could ever pursue anything. There was still a tiny bit of her mind that girlishly giggled, in a way that irritated her to the core of her being, Draco Malfoy likes me. No! The overly rational portion of her brain shouted. There are plenty of boys at this school. One must wear the same cologne. It can't be him. So, she pushed down any thought of attraction once more, intent on having a better explanation.
Draco, on the other hand, was contemplating the gravity of the situation he was in. With enough reflection while mindlessly staring at his notes, he admitted that the attraction had been there for a while, repressed under his inherited Pureblood ideals. A brief thought wound its way through Draco's mind as Slughorn was describing the brewing method of Felix Felicis. Would it be different if she was Pureblooded? Yes. Everything would be different. However, with admission comes consequences, and his mind began to align with Hermione's train of thought. The Dark Lord will use this against me next time I fail... Snape. While, Draco considered himself quite skilled at occulmency, when hiding a secret of such seriousness, he must go to a master. With a solid plan in place, he began to mull over her attraction to him. This will make picking on her much, much more fun.
Even with their distractions, Draco and Hermione managed to brew the day's potion to a quality above the rest of the class, minus Potter who somehow managed a perfect brew. They avoided each other like the plague once Slughorn called the end of class. Draco even stayed later than normal waiting for Blaise Zambini so that he wouldn't leave at the same time as Hermione, and risk being in close proximity to her.
Hermione was fidgeting the entire way to the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Harry were too preoccupied with Quidditch game plans and Harry's newly aquired bottle of Felix Felicis to notice her strange behaviour. She was grateful, for once, for their insensitivity for it gave her reprieve from the inevitable questions that would occur once anyone found out about Draco and Hermione's dirty secret. She contemplated talking to them about the subject, but quickly smothered the idea. Ron and Harry's hatred for the boy would cloud any sort of rationality they possesed. Ginny seemed the next best option, but since she was a notorious gossip and keen to tell Harry any and everything, she was also eliminated. It seemed her only reliable option was Luna Lovegood. The dazed girl was both very wise and unbiased despite her air of lunacy. With a firm plan in mind, Hermione planned to corner Luna at their next lesson with the Ravenclaws. She smiled at her brilliancy and sunk into a squashy chair to study.
()
Later that evening, Draco was lounging in the Dungeon's about to go to Snape's office. He hated to ask for help as it went against his Malfoy pride, but this was a matter of life or death, and as a Slytherin, pride must be sacrificed for survival. However a very clingy Pansy was blocking his way, and he wasn't having any of it.
"Drakeyyy," she whined. "You never spend time with us. You can't leave so soon. It can wait. Stay." She attempted to flaunt her chest in a poorly executed venture to delay him, but he that night was having none of her games.
"Get off Pansy. I have things I have to do, and I don't need you getting in the way," he ground out, lightly pushing her off his lap and standing up. He knew it sounded harsh, but he hated that she acted as if it was third year and nothing was going on.
"Come on. Get that stick out of your arse and have some fun."
"I said no," Draco roared a bit louder than intended. Pansy paled and many of the students in the common room now had eyes on him to figure out what all the commotion was about. "He gave me a mission, and you know I can't fail," he said softer this time, but still with edge in his tone. She had to understand the severity of the situation.
"Okay," she whimpered, letting go of his arm. She sat down shakily next to Theodore Nott who put an arm around her to comfort her. Draco felt bad that he just yelled at Pansy, but he knew it was necessary. He had to look commanding and in line with Death Eater ideals. Any deviation would mean his mother's life. So, he straightened his posture and headed off to Snape's office.
()
"Luna!" Hermione called down the hall to the blonde. When she turned around, she gave Hermione an distant smile and slowed down enough for Hermione to catch up to her.
"Hello, Hermione," Luna replied airily.
"I need to talk to you. Some place private."
"I have just the place."
Hermione found herself inside the Room of Requirement, and it was full of junk. Luna was the portrait of calm as she zig-zagged through the tight rows inbetween piles. Hermione silently followed wondering why Luna couldn't just find an empty classroom or go outside. "At least we're alone. She's quirky, but that's a part of her," Hermione thought. Luna finally found a set of dining chairs that didn't have anything stacked upon them, sitting on the chair closest to a strange broken cabinet, she gestured for Hermione to sit across from her.
Once she sat down, Hermione was about to explain the situation to Luna when she was interrupted. "If he wasn't in such a nasty position, you two would make a lovely couple," Luna smiled knowingly.
Hermione was briefly speechless as she tried to figure out how the girl could know about the incident in her potions lesson that the students attending didn't even pick up on. "Why are you not talking to him?" Luna asked before Hermione could come up with a thought of her own.
"Um. He's probably a Death Eater. He tormented me for the past five years. He hates me. He's a stuck up Pureblood who thinks I'm beneath him," Hermione rambled.
"I think you'll find his opinion changing soon. After all, you're one of the things that most attracts him," Luna smirked.
"How do you know?"
"If you pay enough attention, you can learn everything about a person."
"Couldn't this all just be the Nargles?" Hermione sighed. She was exasperated with Luna's cryptic tone.
"Oh no. The Nargles wouldn't have been that close to Veriserium." Luna stated plainly as if it was common knowledge.
"What do I do?"
"I remember a good quote for this. Oh, what was it? Yes!" She exclaimed proudly. "If you have to ask, you will never know. If you know, you need only ask."
Hermione was beginning to feel that asking Luna may have been a bad idea until Luna stood up and said, "Why don't you try getting to know him better before you convince yourself this never could have happened?" She turned to walk away, but turned back for one last comment. "And don't worry. I wouldn't tell anyone." Then, she left Hermione to her thoughts in the room of hidden things.
He was probably a Death Eater. She didn't want to get to know a repugnant xenophobe! All he had ever done was make her magical life a living hell. Hatred, she told herself, was the only feeling a person with common decency and morals could have for Draco Malfoy. He couldn't be the only male in Hogwarts to wear mahogany-scented cologne. Perhaps it was a wealthy, dashing Ravenclaw, she shakily reassured herself. Malfoy may be physically attractive (once you get past the supercilious personality and near-permanent sneer), smart -he was second only to her in their year- and witty, but that did not mean he was the person Hermione Granger most attracted to. Probably.
(~)
"What exactly do you want?" Snape drawled when Draco entered his private chambers.
"I seek your assistance."
"Oh, so common sense has finally leaked into your remarkably dim-witted mind and now you feel you need help? How momentous. You deserve an award. I'm sure your father would pay for one." Snape deadpanned.
"I need to be a master of occulmency."
Snape paused, obviously not expecting that response but quickly recovered. "And what do you wish to hide, Draco? You should know it is unwise to keep information from him."
"It does not matter what the information is!"
"It is also unwise to refuse answering questions from those whom you are requesting assistance."
Draco paused, unwilling to share his disgraceful secret, but in need of training. He didn't want both his mother's and his own death to be premature due to a poorly timed attraction to a swotty mudblood. "I will see either way," Snape warned before Draco could respond.
"Granger," he spoke with destain. "I smelled her cheap, muggle perfume in the Amortentia today, and she smelled my cologne."
Snape internally blanched. It was as if history was repeating itself before his very eyes.
"Could you not pick a better girl than that overly eager know it all?" the potions master droned.
"If I had a choice she certainly wouldn't have been someone who would put mother and I in danger, Severus!" Draco seethed.
"Sit. Try to block me out." That was the last thing Snape said before he attacked Draco's mind repeatedly.
(-)
Draco had beads of sweat surrounding his forehead like a crown by the end of the lesson. If he ever heard 'you're not trying hard enough' from Severus one more time, he swore he would drown the slimy man.
"I shall see you tomorrow evening. Prepare yourself," Severus instructed, a bite of irritation in his tone, before dismissing Draco with a well-practiced wave.
Draco walked bitterly back to the room of hidden things, his personal purgatory. He felt that she should be groveling at his freshly shined, dragonhide boots for the amount of effort he was putting into her safety. He was sure that if it wouldn't save himself, he wouldn't have put up with Severus' lessons. He groaned that he didn't need this on top of the cabinet which he had hardly made any progress on. It was absolutely fabulous. No sleep tonight if he had to make up time fixing that damned cabinet.
()
"Why her? Why the bloody hell did it have to be her?" Draco screamed over and over kicking an already broken dining chair in the Room of Hidden Things. He didn't make any progress on the cabinet that night. It was past midnight, and Draco was taking out his frustrations with the world on an innocent piece of furniture. First, his father had to join a bloody cult, then piss off the seemingly all-powerful cult leader. Kick. Second, Voldemort, said seemingly all-powerful cult leader, decided to give him an impossible task knowing that he would most likely die in the process because his father botched the mission to retrieve a goddamn crystal ball. Kick. Third, the powers that be decided to screw him further by throwing Granger, the person he was suppose to hate the most in this world, into his life in a new light and labeled as 'the person he is most attracted to'. It just had to be the one girl that possessed an exceptional ability to get him and his entire family killed instantly if the Dark Lord found out. He was really and truly fucked.
(-)
"I hope she's suffering just as much, if not more," he grumbled as he limped back to his common room. He knew he would get three hours of sleep at best. Slumber did not come easily to those who participated in the activities the Dark Lord deemed 'fun'. Stepping silently into the Slytherin common room, he was greeted by Pansy who was draped over the couch by the extinguished fire snoring softly. Despite her annoying nicknames and clingy nature, she was a fairly faithful friend, and he was grateful.
"Pans," he whispered, lightly shaking her awake. "Let's get you to bed." She limply nodded, still mostly asleep, and leaned her entire body weight against him as he lead her towards the girl's dorm.
"Ugh. Millicent," she whined through closed eyes as they neared the door to her room. Deep snoring could be heard through the solid oak door. Merlin knows how loud it will be in there. How did a human being make that much noise just sleeping?
He turned back towards his own room, ready to leave Pansy to perform her own silencing charm, only to he remember that she must have stayed up hours to wait for him. Sighing, he reluctantly turned back, at the risk of sparking her obsession with him again, and lead her towards his dorm.
She followed drowsily and fell into his bed, dead asleep, as soon as she touched it. He stifled a chuckle and put on his pajamas. Pansy was the first to go to bed; 'beauty sleep' she called it. But really, she had no tolerance for staying up late. After he was in his emerald green, silk night pants, he tucked them both in and drew the curtains.
"Goodnight, Pans," he murmured and kissed her forehead. When she gave no sign of acknowledgment, he turned his back to her sleeping form and fell into a fitful slumber.
()
"So, have you talked to him?" Luna asked after cornering Hermione between classes the next day.
"No," Hermione sighed. "I will after dinner. I have prefect rounds, so I'll to try to find him. What do I say?" She was stressed enough with N.E.W.T. classes and Harry's mission. Draco Malfoy drama wasn't helping her keep the level head she desperately strove for.
"Tell him how you feel, and live happily ever after."
"It doesn't work that way. It's much more complicated."
"It's only complicated if you don't have the intelligence to fully understand it," Luna stated simply.
"Getting any deeper into this could get us killed!" Hermione screeched, anger simmering inside her at the thought of her wit being questioned.
A few students, mostly non-Gryffindors who were not used to her banshee like screeches, turned and stared at her outburst and began whispering about it to their friends. Hermione groaned and turned her attention back to Luna who, as usual, remained unfazed by the spectacle.
"Maybe, it'll give you a better reason to live," Luna winked and carried on to her next class with a small waved to a stunned Hermione.
"Her approval of this situation is very disturbing," Hermione grumbled as she stomped off to her last lesson of the day. She needed a strong focus for her Apparition class, so she began reciting the ingredients to Polyjuice to clear away her worries.
"3 measures fluxweed, 2 bundles knotgrass, stir..."
()
She managed to banish all thoughts of Malfoy for the entirety of her class and didn't get splinched- something that could not be said for the other half of her class. However, no sooner did the lesson end and thoughts of 'The Amortentia Incident', as she dubbed it, came flooding back like a tidal wave. In desperation for a sense of mental order, she began to mentally prepare her talk with Malfoy later that night. Surely nothing could go wrong.
A.N. As I noted in the beginning, I am currently editing this story, so chapter releases may be a bit more sporadic. I am not giving up on this story, I promise, I was merely getting annoyed by it.