This little one-shot started off with a different ending, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! I hope you all feel the same. If you enjoy it, leave me a review! And consider checking out my other fics while you're at it.
Professor Slughorn stood in front of the class, grinning in a way that made most of the students uncomfortable, but that was nothing new. What was new were the requirements and expectations for this group of eighth year students. Eighth year meant new rules, new standards, and in the case of Potions class, new partners.
Professor McGonnagall, in an effort to upend the old standards that had led to so much strife between students, had abandoned the antiquated House-against-House mentality, and had instigated new ideals to promote inner House unity. This meant that sitting at your House table for meals was optional - something the younger students took to immediately - common rooms were open to anyone with the password, and in most classes, teachers had taken to mixing up students from various Houses when it came to being partners. They'd even been given assigned seats, like in Muggle primary school.
As it was, Potions was a double block with Slytherin.
Harry, who was put right up front for Slughorn to dote on, was partnered with Pansy, who looked horrified to be both in the front of the room and partnered with The-Boy-Who-Lived. Ron, who had been seated near the back, was partnered with Daphne Greengrass, who had a shy smile and a quiet way about her. Neville had been paired off with Millicent Bulstrode, Seamus Finnigan with Theo Nott, Dean Thomas with Tracey Davis, and Parvati Patil, much to her delight, had been paired with Blaise Zabini, who was very easy on the eyes. And then, of course, Hermione, also seated in the front at a table right next to Harry and Pansy's, was partnered with Draco Malfoy.
It was an odd sight, seeing seven small tables with students scooted as far from their partners as they could possibly be, but Slughorn hadn't seemed to notice. This was the second full week of term. The first had been taken up with Slughorn getting to know each student, learning who they knew and what they had to share with him. It wasn't until they walked in this morning that they learned they'd have partners assigned to them.
"Forgive and forget," Slughorn said, pacing across the front of the room, hands across his wide belly. "We all have a lot to forgive," he paused for dramatic effect and looked at them over the rim of his tiny spectacles, "and a lot we'd like to forget." He paused here, beside Harry, and clapped his shoulder so firmly that Harry's glasses were knocked askew. "Am I right, my boy?" Slughorn laughed as he clapped his shoulder again, and Harry was knocked forward. Harry nodded, a pained expression on his face, and Slughord smiled. "Today, we will begin a potion that, if brewed correctly, will take the whole of this week to perfect!" He flicked his wand, and the blackboard in the front of the room filled up with instructions and illustrations. "We are going to be brewing a potion used to help people intentionally forget certain things called Obliviscatur Volunatrium." He said it and looked around, as if waiting for some big applause or reaction, but the fourteen students - who were irritated at having been forced into partnerships with people they'd rather not associate with - simply stared at him. He cleared his throat. "Well then. Yes. This potion will offer people temporary relief from their memories. A single dose, and memories that you've chosen to forget will, poof, vanish from your mind for a few days. A nice little break, you might say. The exception to the temporary nature of this potion is, if ingested within minutes of an event, it will erase that memory permanently." He patted his rotund belly as if proud of himself.
Hermione's mind was buzzing. Temporary forgetfulness. A coward's escape. The whole idea filled her with a righteous anger. Her hand shot in the air, a determined set to her mouth. She heard Malfoy scoff beside her, but after everything they'd all been through, she truly didn't care.
"Ah, yes, Miss Granger!" Slughorn said, excited for some class participation. "A question?"
"Yes, sir," she said, sitting up straight. "Wouldn't a potion like this run the risk of being addictive? If we could just pick and choose which memories to remove, even if it's only temporary, couldn't we simply keep taking it to make sure we don't remember the unpleasant things?"
Slughorn's face turned reddish-purple. He opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione wasn't finished yet.
"And if we don't remember, who's to say we won't repeat it? Or make things worse? Who's to say - "
"All valid points, Miss Granger," Slughorn bellowed, pasting a forced smile on his face. "Yes, yes, of course, this substance must be controlled by professionals - particularly, Mind Healers - but learning to brew it will surely give you an edge, should you choose that career path."
Hermione shot her hand up again, but Slughorn purposefully ignored her and continued with this lesson.
As he spoke, Hermione seethed. Purposeful forgetfulness sounded like trouble. And as she scanned over the instructions for the potion on the board, her frustration grew. This potion was beyond their ability level. Even for Hermione, who had always been second only to Malfoy in potions - something she was sure was due to Snape's preference for the blonde prat beside her - it looked to be too complicated.
"All right then!" Slughorn clapped his hands together. "Before beginning, please turn to page 43 in the books provided for this particular potion. You'll need to read up a bit before beginning. Once you feel confident, you may borrow ingredients from the cupboard and begin!"
Hermione looked down at the textbook that she hadn't noticed before. It was small, the size of a paperback novel, and black. The title had worn away from the cover. She flipped it open - Advanced Potions for Potions Masters, Volume III. Her anger grew.
"We'll have to share." Malfoy's voice beside her startled her, and her heart rate sped up for a moment. He was wearing his usual sneer, but his words weren't necessarily unkind or rude. "There's only one book."
"Oh, yes. Sorry," she mumbled, scooting the book between them. With deft fingers, she flipped to page 43 and leaned forward, brushing her hair back when it swung over the pages like a curtain. With a huff, she gathered her hair into a bun on top of her head, and used a spare quill from her bag - one that didn't have ink on it - to secure it there.
She read silently, fingers hovering over the edge of the page, ready to turn it. She was a fast reader, and was pleasantly surprised when, only moments after she finished reading, Malfoy nodded at her to turn the page.
Ten pages later, and they both sat back with similar looks of agitation.
"Well, I suppose I'll go get ingredients then," she said, her voice tight.
Malfoy nodded, his jaw tense, his arms crossed across his chest. She scribbled the ingredients from the board onto a spare bit of parchment, and stood. Malfoy immediately pulled the book closer and flipped the pages angrily.
It gave her a bit of solace that she wasn't the only one who thought brewing a potion such as this - that they'd learned within the pages could be addictive and could have terrible side effects - was not OK for students their age.
In the cupboard, Hermione gathered the ingredients they would need for day one. She and Malfoy had finished reading first, so she was surprised when she heard someone enter the room behind her. Months on the run from Snatchers had made Hermione jumpy. She spun around, wand pulled from the sleeve of her robes where she now kept it, ingredients forgotten on the table behind her.
"Whoa there, Granger," Blaise Zabini said with smile. "No need to hex me just yet."
Hermione lowered her wand, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Sorry. Old habits," she said, turning back to her ingredients and her list.
"S'alright," he said, sidling up beside her. "I get it." His voice as he said this lacked it's usual cocky overtones, and Hermione couldn't help peering at him from the corner of her eye.
"The cats claw leaves are on the bottom shelf, behind some old bezoars." She pointed.
He gave her a smile, his cocky facade back in place, and tipped his head to her. She couldn't help but admire his strong back as he bent over. He was very handsome, and even if she would never dream of dating someone like him, she could still admire a beautiful man when she saw one.
"Do you still need the whomping willow bark?" he asked as she stood, offering her a baggy of it. She nodded and checked it off her list.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure, Granger." He smiled, his straight, white teeth gleaming against his rich, olive skin, and she felt herself blush. "Or, if I may, Hermione." Her blush intensified as she nodded once.
Face red, she gathered her supplies and made her way back to her table, where Malfoy was still hunched over the book. She laid their ingredients out, face cooling, as he sat back, scowling.
"This is too advanced," he said quietly. "I mean, if anyone will be able to pull it off, it'll be me - er, us - but, this book is for Potions Masters, not 18 year olds."
"I agree," she said firmly and met his gaze. He didn't smile. His expression didn't change. But she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes.
"Hermione," Blaise interrupted on his way back to his table where Parvati sat. Draco tensed beside her. "I wanted to say, your points in class earlier were spot on. Really." He smiled at her again and she felt that familiar blush crawl up her cheeks.
"Thank you, Blaise. I appreciate that." She tucked a curl that had escaped her bun behind her ear, and he rewarded her with another gorgeous smile. He gave her a wink and Malfoy a nod and proceeded back to his table where Parvati sat, trying to look nonchalant, her eyes raking over Blaise hungrily.
"Have a little crush on a Slythern, Granger?" Malfoy's sneer was back. Though his words weren't nice, they lacked their usual bite, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "What will your friends think?"
"Can we get back to the potion?" she asked, shoving that same, stray curl back as it escaped again. "You know, the one we both agree is too difficult, and too dangerous, for students to brew?"
His brows, knitted together, softened and with a determined set to his mouth, he nodded. "If anyone can do this, we can," he muttered as he leaned forward and lit the fire beneath the small cauldron before them with a tip of his wand.
They worked for the entirety of the double block - three hours - on the blasted Obliviscatur Volunatrium. By the end of the class, Malfoy and Hermione had managed to successfully complete stage one of the potion's development. They'd dried and ground the cats claw leaves, pummelled the whomping willow bark until all the liquid was extracted in the form of a sticky white goo, diced the toothed clubmoss, and measured precisely the right amount of copra oil. After they'd mixed it, they'd taken turns, stirring in five minute intervals, for the last thirty minutes of class. When class ended, their potion was white with a purple sheen. Just as the instructions said it should be.
"Well done, Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger! Well done. Ten points to each of your houses!" He smiled as he cast a stasis charm over their workspace to preserve it for the next day. Their schedule had been altered so they would have the same potions block every day for the week, rather than only on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Hermione's hair had started to come loose from her bun and she plucked the quill from the tangled curls with a sigh, trying her best to set it right, but quickly abandoning the idea.
Malfoy looked like he might want to say something about it, eyeing her hair with that shrewd look he got before he fired an insult at her. She steeled herself for it, but it never came.
"Good work today, Granger," he said instead, his voice strained as he met her eyes. That flicker of something was back, but she wasn't sure what it could mean.
"You too, Malfoy." She gave him a nod. "You're, er, very good at Potions." In the past, she'd often been paired with Harry or Ron, and while she loved them dearly, they were rubbish at potions. It had been nice to work with someone who was on par with herself, someone who was ready with each step alongside her. He started to walk away, his bag packed, but she stopped him by stepping in front of him. "I'm going to McGonagall," she said, chin lifted. "I don't think she would approve of this potion. If we went together, it might make a bigger impact." She tightened her grip on the strap of her shoulder bag.
He regarded her for a moment before shaking his head. "It wouldn't do any good," he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robes. "Besides, my presence would probably hurt your cause." He gave a self deprecating shrug and Hermione felt the sudden urge to comfort him, which was very disconcerting.
"I'll come," Blaise said, appearing at her side with a smile. Malfoy's sneer was once again plastered on his face.
"Oh, no." Hermione felt herself blush. "That's quite alright, Blaise. But thank you." She turned back to Malfoy, who wore an expression she could not read. "I'll go alone. Maybe get us all out of this." She motioned toward the potion and he nodded.
"I'll walk you," Blaise offered, glancing at Malfoy with a smirk. Hermione was going to politely decline - Blaise was lovely, but she wasn't sure she wanted to be around him alone - when Harry joined them, hair and glasses askew.
"Walk where?" Harry asked, purposefully avoiding either Slytherin's gaze. Hermione felt herself relax.
"McGonagall's office." She tightened her hold on her bag.
"I'll walk with you, then." He smiled at her before turning to the Slytherins. He nodded once, and they returned the gesture, Blaise's smile gone.
"See you tomorrow, then." She waved at the boys in green and silver and, with Harry at her side, darted from the room.
"Where's Ron?" she asked, voice tight, as they walked.
Harry cleared his throat. "Er, he left with Greengrass, I think."
Hermione felt a rush of emotions - jealousy, pain, and pure and utter relief. "Oh! Well, that's lovely then." Her voice sounded strained and she hated it. After the emotion of their momentous kiss had worn off, things had fizzled between them. Every kiss thereafter had been awkward. Every touch had been forced and had made them both want to pull away. They'd ended things and it had become even more awkward. If he were to date Daphne, or anyone, really, she knew things would get better.
Of course, that didn't stop her from being jealous that he could be not awkward with girls other than herself. He'd been all she'd thought about, aside from a few crushes and unrealistic fantasies, since she was eleven. It was strange to have that door closed.
"All right, Hermione?" Harry's voice was soft, and she gave him a smile, realizing she'd been lost in thought.
"Of course," she said with a smile. "It's just strange to see him with someone. Good," she clarified, "but strange."
"Yeah. We'll get back to normal, though." He nodded as if trying to convince himself. "Here we go," he said, nodding to the gargoyle. "Want me to come with you?" he asked and she shook her head.
"I'll see you in the Great Hall for lunch in just a bit."
With the confidence of a woman who helped defeat the greatest Dark Wizard in known history, Hermione uttered the password and ascended the spiral staircase. She faced McGonagall, using all the facts at her disposal, and finishing with an emotional appeal for the safety of the students. McGonagall regarded her thoughtfully, and then very kindly, but succinctly, told her that she could not interfere with Professor Slughorn's curriculum. With a frustrated nod, Hermione left and joined her classmates in the Great Hall where she was mildly surprised to find Daphne sitting in her usual seat. With a tight smile, she instead took a seat further down the table, after an apologetic smile from Harry.
A moment later, Blaise Zabini, in all his handsome, arrogant glory, sat down beside her. "Care for some company, Granger?" he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
"You're persistent," she said as she filled her plate.
"What can I say?" he said. "You're hard to stay away from." He winked again and she giggled - Merlin help her, giggled. What was wrong with her?
Before she could respond, Malfoy sat in front of them, a scowl on his pale features. Hermione was shocked. She never thought he'd move from his Slytherin roost. He watched them, eyes darting between Hermione and Blaise, and Hermione was filled with anger. Surely, after everything that had happened, he couldn't be angry that his friend might be interested in her. Surely, after a blasted war, he wouldn't still hold blood prejudice.
"How did it go with McGonagall?" he asked, voice tight. He put a half sandwich on his plate and some crisps.
Hermione forcefully let go of his anger. If he wasn't going to say anything about Blaise sitting with her, she wasn't going to push it. "Not well," she said, taking a bit of her own sandwich and washing it down with a bit of pumpkin juice. "Apparently she can't - or rather won't - interfere with his curriculum." She rolled her eyes and Blaise chuckled.
"Well, we should all make the best of it then. Yeah?" He winked again and leaned forward conspiratorially. "A potion like this will surely fetch a pretty penny somewhere." At her horrified expression, he laughed again and sat back.
"Granger isn't the kind of witch who'd sell black market potions, Blaise." Malfoy's quiet voice brought her attention to him. He was looking at Blaise, his jaw set. "And you shouldn't be either, if you know what's good for you."
Blaise surprised her by laughing and smiling broadly at his fellow Slytherin. "I was only joking, mate. Only joking." He turned back to Hermione and stood. Somehow, he'd managed to eat his entire meal while they spoke. Hermione had eaten only had a bite. "Until tomorrow, fair lady," he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
There was that damn giggle again, and Hermione felt irritated with herself. "See you," she said after clearing her throat. A final wink later and he left, sauntering away as a gaggle of girls watched before shooting Hermione death glares.
"So, you and Zabini then?" Malfoy asked. His eyes were on his plate as he pushed crisps around, barely touched.
"What? Oh, no." Hermione laughed - no giggles here - and shook her head. "I think he's just exploring what it feels like to dip his toes into the forbidden Gryffindor pool."
Malfoy laughed and finally met her eye. "He's already dipped his toes, and other body parts, into the Gryffindor pool, Granger." He plucked a crisp from his plate and popped it in his mouth. "I think he's rather more interested in a particular fish at this point." He smirked at her and she felt her cheeks heat.
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" he asked, leaning forward. "And why is that?"
"Well, for starters, my parents are Muggles - "
"Eh, no one cares about that sort of thing anymore."
She started, hearing him talk about her blood status so nonchalantly, as if he truly believed it was no longer an issue. "Regardless," she said, blowing stray hairs out of her eyes, "I'm not the kind of girl that attracts the attention of Blaise Zabini."
"And what kind of girl would that be?" he asked, taking a long sip of his water.
Hermione felt flustered. "The kind of girl who thinks more about her clothes and her hair than she does about books. Someone gorgeous and feminine - like Parvati! I'm not saying she isn't intelligent, only that she splits her focus enough to attract someone like Blaise. Meanwhile, I'm brilliant - " he scoffed and she suppressed a smirk. "But I'm no great beauty."
Malfoy studied her for a moment, biting his bottom lip slightly. "I think you have a warped self image, Granger." He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly.
Before she could come up with a proper response to such a strange comment, Daphne Greengrass slid into the seat beside Draco, eyes wide and apologetic as she looked at Hermione.
"I'm so sorry I took your seat today," she said, her voice quiet. Daphne was one of those girls she'd been talking about. Tall, thin, warm brown eyes and long chestnut hair. She was absolutely stunning, and it irked Hermione that she also seemed to be nice. How dare she.
"Oh, it's no trouble," Hermione said, forcing a smile of her own. "Gave me the chance to get to know Blaise and Malfoy a little better," she said, glancing at Malfoy, who smirked at his plate.
"Well, don't let them fool you," Daphne said, leaning forward as if they were old friends, a smile on her lovely face. "They both talk a big game, and put on very convincing fronts, but underneath they're both bunnies."
Malfoy turned to her, a sneer on his face, and she laughed - loud and boisterous. With her supple lips, she kissed his cheek. "Bunnies," she deadpanned to Hermione, which caused Hermione to smile for real.
"Thanks for the tip," she said, gaze returning to Malfoy, who once again stared at his plate, his cheeks pink.
Daphne left then, and Hermione saw Ron follow shortly after, giving her a little, slightly-less-awkward-than-usual wave, and she smiled. Maybe things would be back to normal sooner, rather than later.
"See you in class tomorrow, Granger," Malfoy said, standing abruptly, drawing her from her thoughts. He gave her a little wave, then scowled, and before she could answer, he walked away.
"You OK?" Harry asked, as he walked toward her. Hermione was smiling, and didn't really know why.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" she smiled as she finished her sandwich and juice. Harry just watched her, his brow lifted, and then looked to where Malfoy had left through the doors of the Great Hall.
Hermione had preemptively braided her hair back for the second day of work on Obliviscatur Volunatrium. She'd gotten tired of having strands in her face the day before. She walked into the room, early as usual, and stopped when she saw Blaise and Malfoy, standing, having a heated conversation beside her table.
"Just leave it alone, Zabini," Malfoy growled, and Blaise smiled almost wickedly. Before he could answer, the door behind Hermione clicked shut and both sets of eyes - one a deep, rich brown, the other a steely gray - shot to her.
"Hello," she said, taking a hesitant step in the room. Malfoy scowled. Zabini smiled.
"You look lovely today, Hermione," he said as she approached and she blushed lightly. "Of course, you look lovely everyday."
She giggled. Again. And Malfoy's scowl deepened.
"You're ridiculous," she said, moving between them and placing her things on the desk. The potion was frozen with a stasis spell, and after a quick glance she ascertained it hadn't changed at all from the day before.
"It still looks to be in order," Malfoy said, his voice quiet, and she nodded and shot him a quick smile.
"You know, Draco, it's really not fair," Blaise said, hip against their table as other students began filing in. Slughorn waddled in and cornered Harry immediately.
"What isn't fair?" Malfoy asked, eyes narrowing.
"That you'd get paired with the smartest witch in our class." He smiled at Hermione and leaned a tiny bit closer to her before turning back to Malfoy. "You lucked out, mate. With her, you may have a chance at passing this assignment." He turned back to Hermione, an almost apologetic smile on his face. "Not to mention, she's the loveliest witch I've ever seen."
Hermione's face bloomed crimson, both from his compliment and from the insinuation that Malfoy wasn't good at potions. That sat wrong with her. Malfoy and Zabini were friends. Surely he knew that Malfoy was as good, if not better, in potions than she was.
"Zabini," she said, surprised that her voice was cool, "if anything, Malfoy is the reason we'll pass this ridiculous assignment. He's had top marks since first year." She raised her eyebrow at him, frustrated when his smile grew. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to prepare for today's segment."
Blaise nodded, his smile reaching his eyes. "I stand corrected," he said, bowing his head to her before winking. This time, it did not cause her to blush, and she lifted her chin.
"I'm the reason we'll pass?" Malfoy's voice brought her eyes to him. He sat beside her, his own eyebrow lifted, an almost pleasant smirk on his face. It softened his face.
"Oh, come off it," she said, pulling her notes from her bag. "You know you've always excelled in Potions."
He laughed quietly, and her head snapped toward him. "That I have, Granger." He organized his own materials, and she turned back to her things.
This class, and the following two went by in much the same way. For the most part, she and Malfoy worked in silence. They slipped into a groove that surprised her as much as it pleased her. They alternated between adding ingredients and mixing, each taking the initiative to follow the other's footsteps, solving possible issues before they happened. They worked in tandem, moving around one another as if they'd done this a thousand times. During the breaks, when the potion needed to simmer, or things needed to be sifted or pressed, they talked. At first, it was a little stilted, but with the option of focusing on the task at hand, the conversation flowed freely.
Of all the groups, only their potion looked right on the fourth day. The potion was a lovely shade of plum, and the white steam that rose from it swirled lazily and smelled of lavender. Blaise and Parvati's was second closest, the color resembling a bruise - which Hermione knew meant they needed to add a tad more moonstone dust - while Ron and Daphne seemed to be having the most abysmal luck, with a sickly green potion that gurgled thickly. To fix theirs, they would have to go back to the beginning. Daphne seemed frustrated, but smiled at Ron whenever he looked to her, helpless, anyway. Hermione remembered doing the same thing when she'd been his partner, and was once again thankful for a capable Potions partner, as well as a noticeable lack of romantic feelings for Ronald Weasley.
"Pansy needs to stir the other way," Malfoy grumbled, looking over Hermione at Harry and Pansy's table. Their potion was plum, but the steam that rose was dark and smelled sour.
Something about Malfoy watching Pansy stir made Hermione feel irritated. "Let's just focus on our own potion, please," she said, her voice tight, even though she'd been doing the same thing for other potions for the last few minutes.
"I am focused," he said, his tone sharp, and she spun to face him. "I just happened to notice that she was stirring the wrong way. You're the one looking all over the room." He crossed his arms.
She thought about correcting him, about sitting up tall and setting him straight, but he'd been right. She sighed. "Fair point," she said, and his anger was replaced with confusion. "I just know how to fix most of these," she gestured vaguely, "and it's frustrating to watch them be brewed incorrectly."
He watched her for a moment, and then chuckled lightly, causing a small smile to break out over her face. "All right," he said, leaning forward. Their potion was set to simmer over a low flame for the next fifteen minutes. "What about Thomas and Nott's?" he asked, nodding toward their cauldron, a table over and a table back.
Hermione grinned and peeked back at it. It was more blue than purple, and smelled salty. She turned back to face him, smiling broadly, "That's easy. They added the the fluxweed before the larch needles. To fix it," she smirked at him, his eyes glittering with that unfamiliar something, "they would need to add half a vial of ground leeches and a drop of honey to reverse what they've done, then they would need to re-add the larch needles and fluxweed in the proper order."
Her rewarded her with a smile, no trace of smirk left on his face, and he clapped quietly with a nod. She sat up straighter, pride filling her up.
"Go on, then, Draco." She said, heart fluttering as his first name slipped from her mouth. She looked all around the room to cover her slight flush. "How would one fix Bulstrode and Neville's? It's a lovely shade of magenta at the moment."
Malfoy smiled at her broadly, and much like when Blaise winked, she felt herself blush scarlet. He pretended not to notice and said, "That one's easy."
Hermione walked into Potions on Friday - the last day with their Obliviscatur Volunatrium - with butterflies in her stomach. Today, all they had to do was add the final ingredient, and it would be done. The day before, she'd left class, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much. She'd had such fun with Malfoy - Draco - quietly fixing their classmates' potions while theirs brewed flawlessly. He'd smiled at her, really smiled, and he'd spoken to her in a way that was, quite plainly, nice.
And now she felt nervous. She walked in, nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, and made her way to their table. Blaise waggled his fingers at her, and she waved back, eyes drawn away from the gorgeous brunette toward the front of the room where a certain blonde sat. He was scanning the room as well, and when his eyes landed on her, he smiled. Her cheeks heated and she hurried to the front.
"I think we may be the only ones to pass this potion," she said as she sat next to him, her chair a little closer to his than was necessary.
"Of course we are," he said, and a sideways glance told her he was grinning.
Slughorn started the class with a long-winded speech, reminding them of the potion's properties. "If brewed correctly, Obliviscatur Volunatrium will temporarily remove memories from a person. And if administered immediately following an event, the memory will be removed permanently. Now, you should all be ready to add the final ingredient! Liquid gold!" His eyes sparkled behind his tiny glasses.
"Draco," she rather liked using his first name, "would you like to do the honor?" Hermione asked, offering the vial to him. He smirked and shook his head.
"Oh, I couldn't," he said, smirking in a way that she'd grown quite fond of over the last week.
"Together?" she asked, her heart thundering traitorously behind her ribs. He smiled then, one of those rare, real smiles, and nodded.
His fingers closed over hers and she blushed as they tilted the vial of liquid gold into their potion. The brilliant plum turned iridescent, and a poof of white smoke that smelled like lavender and lemon covered them for a moment.
"Oh, brilliant!" Slughorn clapped. "Brilliant. We'll have to test it, of course, but it looks to me like our first success! Well done Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Well done."
The class clapped lethargically, and Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment. When she looked back to Draco, he was putting his wand in his robes pocket. She went to ask him what he'd been doing when an explosion shook the room. All heads spun toward the table where Theo Nott and Seamus Finnigan both sat, faces covered in soot and bits of neon blue goo, while their cauldron sat, cracked, dripping said goo onto the floor.
"Oh, my. Well. Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, since you're both finished, would you mind terribly to walk these two to the infirmary? Er, just to make sure that everything's in order." He looked nervous as both Nott and Seamus stood, blue good dripping from their hair.
"Of course," Hermione said, gathering her things and standing. Draco was right behind her. He held the door for Seamus and Theo while Hermione vanished the drips on the floor as they walked.
They dropped them off with Madam Pomphrey, who scowled when Hermione told her what they'd been brewing, and then shewed them away.
"Well, that was exciting," she said as they walked, slowly, back toward their class.
"Was it?" Draco replied, a smirk on his lips. "Finnegan's exploded something with nearly every potion we've ever brewed." He chuckled and Hermione smiled, holding on to the strap of her bag like a lifeline.
"True." She pushed a curl behind her ear. They were two halls away from Potions, and she fancied the idea of taking the long way, when he spoke.
"Hermione." Her first name from his lips caused her to pull up short. She turned toward him with wide eyes, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. "Can we talk a moment?" he stood up straight, his chin lifted in what she'd always assumed was a posture of superiority, but now she thought it might be a stance of insecurity.
"Sure." Her voice was steady. That was good.
He walked down a corridor to their left and sat in a window seat, leaving plenty of room for her to sit as well. Her heart thudded loudly against her ribs as she followed suit, sitting beside him. She let her bag fall to the floor beside her and turned, slightly to face him.
"I wanted to - " he took a deep breath, and that flicker of something was back in his eyes. "I wanted to apologize to you." He said the words slowly. No smirk. No sneer.
"What for?" she asked, feeling daft as soon as the words left her mouth.
"For everything," he said, finally looking away at his hands. "For being an arse for years. For letting my parents' prejudice poison me. For not helping you when-" His eyes popped up. They never talked about the war. About what happened in the war. He stared at her, panicked, then glanced quickly at her arm. She only wore long sleeves now, just like him, but they both knew what was etched into her skin. He let out a shaky breath. "Just for everything." He met her gaze again and she was struck by that urge to comfort him. It was like he was still a little boy, trapped inside a life he hadn't chosen.
She reached her hand out and put it on his, half-expecting him to pull away.
"I forgive you," she said, quietly. She's not sure what she expected. She thought he might nod and walk away, thought he might break down and cry, thought he might roll his eyes and make a quip. However, she did not expect him to turn his hand over so that their fingers were almost woven together. She did not expect him to scoot a little bit closer.
"I have no right to ask this of you," he said, and when she met his gaze again there was a new something in his eyes. Something that made her knees feel like jelly. "None at all, so let me preface with this." With his free hand, he fished a tiny vial - the one that had held the liquid gold - from his robes pocket, just beside his wand. "I need to ask you something. If, after it's all said and done, you want to drink this and erase the memory, I won't mind. Or, if I ask, and you refuse, that's OK too. Either way," he released her hand and put the purple vial into it, "you have the option of erasing all of this."
"We never tested the potion," Hermione said, voice quiet, eyes wide. He smirked then, and some of her nerves settled at the familiar gesture.
"We both know it's perfect." The way he said the word perfect sent chills down her spine.
She nodded. "All right." She placed the vial beside her on the cushioned seat. "What is it you need to ask me, that might make me want to erase my memory?"
His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he bit his lip for a fraction of a second. "We don't know one another well," he started.
"Well enough," she interrupted.
"But not well," he insisted. "We've co-existed for years, but we don't know each other."
"Sure we do," she said, and his nervous expression slipped into one of annoyance - another familiar face that eased her tension. "For example, I know that right now, you're annoyed with me. Because your eyebrow does that thing where it lifts up like a Vulcan."
"What's a Vulcan?"
"It's from a show called Star Trek." He looked confused and she rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter. What I'm saying is, I know you well enough."
"We don't know details about each other. Like favorite colors - "
"Yours is red, even though you pretend it's green," she said, surprised she knew that.
"Or, or other things!" he said, exasperated. "Hermione, we do not-really-know-each-other."
Hermione scooted a little bit closer and his eyes widened. "I know that you were raised in a household that taught you that I was less than human." He winced. "I know that you were forced into a life that you wouldn't have chosen for yourself, and that it's marked you." He released her hand and covered his forearm, even though his shirt and robes covered it already. "And I know that you prefer coffee with a splash of milk to tea, but if you have to drink tea, you take it with two cubes of sugar." Her face heated, but she couldn't stop now. "I know that you sneer and snarl at people to keep them at arms' length, and that more often than not, you do it so that you can observe them. To protect yourself." His eyes widened more and more as she spoke and she fought off the urge to touch his face. "And I know that when - " she took a steadying breath, "when Bellatrix was hurting me, you wanted to help. But couldn't. Because it only would have made things worse."
He stared at her for a long moment, eyes large, and then slowly he took her hand again. His fingers were cold against hers and the sensation sent tingles up her arm.
"Your favorite color is blue, like the sky." His voice was quiet, but in opposition to his hands, his words were honeyed and warm. "I know that you also prefer coffee, but with far too much sugar, but your tea, you prefer with only a splash of cream. And that given any chance, you'll choose pumpkin pie for dessert. Even though - " he paused and then reached up to gently move a stray curl behind her ear. "Your parents are teeth healers - er, dentists - and taught you not to eat such things." She felt the dumbstruck look on her face and couldn't erase it. "I know that you open yourself to everyone, even horrible, stupid ex-Death Eaters who've been nothing but cruel to you, all because your heart is so big you believe you can help anyone just by loving them. I know you're brilliant and kind, and almost as good at Potions as I am." At this, Hermione laughed. She didn't giggle, she just laughed, and when he smiled in return it made her feel warm.
"You wanted to ask me something," she reminded him, squeezing his hand.
He took a deep, steadying breath. "Just keep in mind that you can drink the potion and erase this memory if you want," he said, and she nodded. "But I was wondering if, perhaps, well." He closed his eyes for a moment, then met hers, and that something new was back. His eyes shone with it and it made her heart race. "If you'd let me kiss you. Just once."
The world seemed to still as static filled her ears. Draco Malfoy, after revealing that he'd been watching her, had been learning her, just asked her for a kiss. He didn't corner her in a dark room, or assume she'd want to kiss him back and try to force it. He'd asked.
"All right," she whispered as her heart ricocheted around like a ping pong ball.
He licked his bottom lip again, the tip of his tongue barely touching the skin, and something ignited in her stomach.
He took a deep breath through his nose. He let go of her hand and brought his cool fingertips to her jaw. They brushed her skin and she felt her eyes drift closed as she leaned into his touch. She felt his breath on her lips before his skin touched hers, softly, and then with a little more pressure.
Like sinking into a hot bath, Hermione sank into the kiss. His lips were soft, and up close she could smell him - sandalwood and soap. His fingertips slipped along her jaw until he was cupping her face. His long fingers were like a cool compress on her overheated skin.
She wanted to reach out, to touch his face too, but too soon he was pulling away, his lips leaving hers in a way that made her want to scream.
She opened her eyes and he was looking at her, that something new still bright in his eyes. His cheeks were tinged pink and again, she fought the urge to touch his face.
He reached across her and her breath caught, hoping he would kiss her again, but instead he grabbed the vial of Obliviscatur Volunatrium and placed it in her hand, then closed her fingers over it.
"Thank you," he said, his face turning sad, that something dimming. "If you take it now, it should cover the last half hour or so. I didn't have time to measure properly." He shrugged.
He was giving her a way to pretend that this had never happened. But she couldn't do that. The whole thing was absurd, really, but it had happened. He'd kissed her, and more than anything else in this moment, she wanted to kiss him again. She turned the vial over in her hand, watching the iridescent purple liquid coat the glass sides and slip away, shimmering green.
"Here," she said, handing it back to him. He looked confused. "I want you to have this. I want you to know that you have a way out of what I'm about to ask you."
He looked up at her with so much raw hope in his eyes, it nearly broke her. "What do you want to ask me?" His voice was a whisper. His eyes pleaded.
"If you would please kiss me again." She tilted her chin up, aiming for confidence even as her hands shook.
In less than a breath he was on her, the vial dropping to the cushions forgotten, his hands in her hair, and hers in his.
He pressed his lips to hers, and when she opened her mouth, he groaned. It was such an open, vulnerable sound, that she had trouble not pulling him even closer.
As he kissed her - holding her face, fingers raking through her hair and across her scalp, chest pressing to hers as he scooted closer - she felt something bubble up inside. It wasn't a giggle - thank Merlin - but it was something similar. Something better. It was a feeling of a new discovery, brimming with promise. She smiled as he kissed her, and he smiled as she kissed him back.
After a while, they slowed, pulling away, breaths quick and shallow. He leaned back and tucked her hair behind her ear. She could feel it now - his hands had wreaked havoc and she knew it was everywhere. But with the way he was looking at her, she couldn't care less.
"So, no potion?" she breathed, eyes sparkling as they sat, faces inches apart. He smirked.
"No potion," he said. Then tilted his head. "You?"
"No. Thank you," she smiled broadly. "I'd rather like to remember this, so when it happens again, I'll have a frame of reference."
His smirk turned into a grin and his face lit up. "So you'd like this to happen again?" He asked, his breath ghosting over her lips.
"Only if you do."
He pressed his lips against hers one more time. She gave into her desire to touch his face, her finger tips resting on his cheek, and she sighed.
They jumped apart when Blaise, standing just feet away, started clapping. "Bravo! Both of you, bravo!"
"What are you doing here?" Draco growled, and Hermione's face colored with embarrassment. She braced herself for Draco to scoot away, but he didn't. He stayed there, shoulder against hers.
"Well, I was looking for the two of you. Ole Sluggy bottled some of your Obliviscatur Volunatrium as a reward for being the only pair to brew it correctly, but when you never came back to class, I selflessly offered to bring it to you. Imagine my surprise when I saw you tucked away down here, rather than in the Great Hall." He held his hand out, offering them the large vial, emblazoned with a gold medal and a Slug Club logo.
Hermione lifted her chin, making sure her shoulder didn't leave Draco's. "Perhaps you should keep it, Blaise," she said, a smile on her face. "In case your heart is broken over what you just saw." She smiled sweetly at him and he laughed while Draco smirked. She felt Draco's arm slide around her waist and she leaned into his touch.
"My heart is broken," he said, eyes twinkling. "Crushed. However, I rather think the two of you will make a much better pair than you and I would have." He bowed before looking up, a devilish look on his face. Draco's eyes narrowed.
"You're a bloody git, you know it?" he said, grip tightening on Hermione's waist.
She looked quickly between them, comparing Draco's furrowed brow and and Blaise's laughing eyes. "What am I missing?" she asked, focusing in on Draco's face, just inches from her own.
His jaw was clenched, but when he turned his eyes to her, his expression softened.
"Draco here has fancied you for years, Hermione," he said, leaning up against the opposite wall. "He talked about you all the time - Granger is so annoying. Granger has to have been cheating. Did you see Granger at the ball? It should be illegal for someone to trick people like that. It went on and on and on. And when I finally asked him about it, you should have seen him! He blew up, threatened to hex me where I stood, which could only mean one thing - he really fancied you." Draco's hand started to slip from from her waisted and she reached up with her opposite hand, holding him where he was. "So when we came back here, and I saw that he wasn't going to make a move, knowing now that he could without any repercussions, I thought I'd help."
"By pretending to think I was attractive and flirting with me?" she asked, eyebrow raised, Vulcan-style.
"Oh, Granger, I do think you're attractive. And the flirting, while achieving my goal, was just a perk for me, honestly. You're so fetching when you blush," he said with a wink. She rewarded him with an eye-roll, which made him laugh. "And now, my work is done!" he said, clapping his hands together with a satisfied grin. "I'll see you both for lunch. Don't take too long," he said with a laugh as he walked away. Draco scowled. Hermione grinned.
"So," she said after Blaise was well away. "Fancied me for years, have you?"
He blushed and reached up to tuck a non-existent curl behind her ear. "Maybe," he said as he leaned close enough to gently bump his nose against hers. She brushed her lips over his and leaned into him with another sigh.
"I know this is a lot," he said into her hair, wrapping one curl around his finger gently. "And I'd understand if you'd prefer to keep this, whatever it is, quiet. Being seen with me is - "
She turned her face and stopped his lips with hers and watched as his eyes drifted closed.
She pulled back and laid her cheek against his chest. "I have had to fight against Snatchers, have gone toe to toe with horrible witches and wizards, and found and destroyed bloody horcruxes." She looked up at him, his steely eyes baring down from here looked down. "I think I can handle holding your hand in front of our friends."
He grinned down at her before standing and pulling her up with him. "Just as long as your friends don't hex me," he said, and she laughed.
"I can't make any promises about that." He looked at her, mild panic written across his features, until he saw that she was kidding. He pulled her to him, leaning down to capture her lips just once more. Her arms went around his neck while his went around her waist. He pulled her close and drank her in.
When he pulled away, he that same bothersome curl behind her ear. He smirked and she saw that something in his eyes. Written across his face.
He smirked. "That's a risk I'll just have to take."