Ch. 1
"It's Amortentia!"
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask." Said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed.
"It's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. For example, I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and -"
Draco could feel his heart sink. Weasley. The one and the only person he knew that she was describing the smell of. That filthy blood traitor who did not know what a treasure he had right in front of him. The beautiful, wise and oh, so talented witch with the curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. He never really realized when he started to have feelings for her. It just happened, and as of now, there was nothing he could do about it. For the rest of class, Draco was unable to think of anything else as the repeating voice of Hermione in his head was saying what she smelled in the potion (which was dubbed the "most dangerous and powerful potion in this room" by Professor Slughorn.)
The class had been told to brew the "Draught of Living Death", which Draco was half-heartedly preparing the ingredients for. Halfway through, Draco realized that he was lacking a couple of roots, and so he made his to the back of the classroom, where the cabinet containing the extra supplies were. As he opened the cabinet, he caught a sight of golden brown out of the corner of his eyes, and immediately turned to look, staring right into the eyes of Granger.
"Granger"
"Malfoy"
That was pretty much the only exchange they ever had on a daily basis, and it annoyed him, yet made him relieved. He could notice that she didn't look particularly happy, which could mean one of two things.
1. Her grades were second to someone.
2. Someone else was doing better than her in class.
He glanced over at the table Hermione shared and realized that she was seated with Potter and the Weasel. He couldn't help but notice that Potter had a particularly large grin on his face, and the Weasel King, well, he was just looking so impressed by what Potter was doing and was sitting down and not doing anything resourceful or beneficial. How pathetic.
As he made his way back to the table, he passed the table where Pansy Parkinson was sitting, and was greeted by her with a flirtatious grin and batted eyelashes, to which he immediately responded with a glare. (Not that it stopped her, though, if anything she just further batted her lashes.)
Draco was so caught up in her thoughts that he was only snapped back to reality when Slughorn had cried out something to the vast dungeon where the class was being held. He had no idea what was going on until he concluded that it was just Slughorn proclaiming that Harry won. The show-off.
