The day had started normally enough. Hermione Granger had woken up on time, groggily pulled on her robes, tried to tame her frizzy brown hair to no avail, and joined Harry and Ron for breakfast, bickering with the latter whilst Harry stared into space, moodily contemplating whatever it was he brooded about these days. They all had Potions first up, so they all made their way to the dungeons, discussing various ways to get Snape to consume a Draught of Living Death. They took their usual seats and waited for Snape to make his entrance. Because the Potions master didn't just walk into a room; no, that wouldn't be dramatic enough. He swept in, his dark robes billowing behind him with a dark look on his face that commanded silence.
It was after Snape had made his entrance that everything changed for Hermione.
"Your final assessment will be an extremely advanced potion that will take about a month to complete. You will be working in pairs to brew this particular concoction, and your grade will be based on both the potion itself and your ability to work as a team," Snape was explaining.
"I notice that nobody has asked what exactly it is you will be making. Your answer is this: the Polyjuice Potion. "
At this there were groans, but Hermione felt relieved. She had successfully brewed a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion in her second year in a ladies bathroom using stolen ingredients, so using proper utensils and not having to steal from Snape's private store would make this assignment child's play.
At least, that's what she had thought.
"Oh, and there's one last thing," Snape said with a malicious smile marring his usually expressionless face. "I will be personally assigning your partners for the task."
Hermione's stomach sank. She had been counting on working with Ron or Harry. Snape was sure to pair her with somebody hopeless that would ruin her potion, like Neville Longbottom, or even worse, one of Malfoy's hideous cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
The Potions master was reading the partnerships from a long piece of parchment. He had assigned Harry with Neville, and Ron with Goyle. Crabbe was with Parvarti Patil, something the other girl was scowling in the corner about.
"Hermione Granger…," Snape intoned, glancing up at Hermione with malice glinting in his black eyes, "You will be partnered with Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" Hermione blurt out incredulously. Malfoy looked as though Snape had slapped him, and was facing her with a look of disgust twisting his pale features.
"Professor, you cannot possibly expect me to work with that buck-toothed Mudblood for an entire month." Malfoy was saying to Snape.
"Don't call her that, you git!" Harry shouted.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter; open your mouth again and it will be twenty. Draco, three points from Slytherin for questioning my authority."
"Only three points? He called her a Mudblood!" Harry shouted.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and detention with me after school. I believe a nice scrubbing of the telescope lenses in the Astronomy tower will teach you to keep your big mouth shut." Snape snapped.
Malfoy smirked.
"Now, I expect O.W.L standard potions from all of you at the end of this month. You may begin."
And with that, Snape swept out of the room.
Hermione sat there, frozen to her seat. This couldn't be happening. No way was she paired with Malfoy, the vilest person she knew. No, this must be one of her failing-O.W.L nightmares. If she pinched herself, she'd wake up. She did, but all this accomplished was to leave a bruise on her thigh.
Okay, so this was real. Real and awful. She didn't even have time to process it, because Snape had told them to begin, and Malfoy was shooting daggers at her. She glared back and crossed her legs. No way was she going to approach him. She had far too much pride and dignity. It appeared that Malfoy wasn't all too keen on approaching her, either, and they stayed like that, her with her legs and arms folded, him glaring at her and proudly smoothing his already slicked-back blond hair. They probably would have stayed like that all lesson, had Ron not leaned over and told her "One of you is going to have to do it, and I doubt it's going to be him. Time to take one for the team, Hermione." She glared at Ron so furiously that he actually looked taken aback. But Hermione realised he was right. With a sigh, she dragged her books and cauldron over to Malfoy's table and plunked herself down in the seat beside him.
He was looking at her with open hostility. "Do I have something on my face?" she snapped.
"Yeah," Malfoy sneered. "Right… oh, wait. That is your face." At that, he laughed loud enough to push Hermione's nerves to the edge.
"Look," she spat, getting right in his face. "Neither of us is happy with this arrangement, but since I care about my grades, I'm not going to just give up. I need my Outstanding mark, and I need to brew this potion to get it, and you are going to help me and not just be a pain in the behind, or I am going to punch you right in the nose just like I did in our third year."
The reminder seemed to infuriate Malfoy.
"Listen here, Mudblood," he said scathingly. "if you think for one minute I'm going to let you lay one of your filthy hands on me ever again-"
"Lacewing flies and leeches," Hermione interrupted.
"What?" Malfoy looked baffled.
"I need lacewing flies and leeches. You know, for the potion. You go get them while I fill the cauldron with water and bring it to the boil."
"You go get the lacewing flies and leeches, I'm not going anywhere," Malfoy said petulantly.
"Fine," Hermione said exasperatedly. "You boil the bloody water then."
She slipped off her stool and headed toward the student store cupboard. Honestly, she thought whilst she was rummaging through the shelves, Malfoy was so immature, acting like a sulky child. It wasn't as if she was thrilled about the arrangement, but Malfoy was acting like the potion and the partnership was entirely her idea. Which was strange, Hermione mused as she found the leeches, because she knew quite well that Malfoy not only cared about his studies, but that his father was pressuring him to beat her. So why in the name of Merlin was he making this harder than it already was?
Having found both the lacewing flies and the leeches, Hermione made her way back to the table she was unwillingly sharing with Malfoy. As she sat down, she noticed that Malfoy had actually done as she asked and their cauldron was half filled with steadily bubbling water.
"What?" Malfoy asked nastily, noticing her surprise. "Just because I don't like you, doesn't mean I'm not going to participate in the potion brewing."
"You're going to participate; you're just not going to make it easy for me, right?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.
"Why on Earth would I make it easy for you?" Malfoy asked coolly, examining his reflection on the surface of the water.
Hermione shook her head, aggravated. "Shut up and juice these leeches," she told him, "While I quarter these lacewing flies. If you don't co-operate, the entire potion will be a bust and neither of us will get the mark we want."
Hermione quickly finished the lacewing flies and watched Malfoy juice the leeches. He really wasn't that stupid, she thought, examining the way his arm moved with the knife, his head bowed over his work, his hair falling in his eyes occasionally causing him to brush it back in frustration. His problems, she realised, started when he opened his mouth.
As if on cue, Malfoy looked up at her so suddenly she didn't have to look away.
"Have I got something on my face?" he asked her rudely.
All of Hermione's charitable thoughts toward him disappeared. "I was just wondering if it was possible for you to juice those any slower. Really, a snail could have done a lap of the entire castle and made himself a cup of tea in the time it's taken you to juice five leeches," she told him scathingly.
"There are only five leeches to juice, idiot" he said slowly, as if talking to a pre-schooler.
Hermione didn't answer. Embarrassed, she took the vial of leech juice and added it to the cauldron with the lacewing flies and watched as the potion took of a distinct bottle-green colour, exactly as her Potions book had advised. Satisfied, she looked over at Malfoy, who was watching the cauldron with a proud look on his face.
"We need to stir it now," she told him, after having let it bubble away for exactly a minute. They both reached for the stirring spoon at the same time, and their hands brushed each other's. Malfoy jerked his hand back as soon as it happened, a dark look coming over his face.
"Sorry," Hermione muttered, picking up the spoon and stirring the formula three times clockwise and once anti-clockwise.
The rest of the lesson passed in a haze. Malfoy and Hermione took turns to stir their potion, but neither reached for the spoon at the same time again. Once the bell had rung, Malfoy barged past her, knocking her bag off her shoulder and causing her books to spill everywhere. Ruefully, she bent down to pick them up.
It was going to be a long month.