A/N: I wrote this chapter straight after the prologue but it took me forever to edit it, so that is why I didn't upload straight away. I thought it would be interesting if I used roman numerals instead of numbers, don't ask I just love how they look in novels.

From now on this story will either be in Draco or Hermione's POV (It tells you at the start of the chapter). I might make it that some chapters are in third POV but it probably won't be for some time, if I do end up doing it.

Thank you to those amazing people out there who have favorited/followed my story so far. It is much appreciated! x

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and just a warning Draco swears a bit in his thoughts, I believe he would a lot ...

~ Chapter II: Wolfsbane Potion ~

DRACO'S POV

This is going to sound rather pathetic, but attaining a descent night's sleep is near impossible when she and I are only separated by a bloody bathroom! Yes, Granger and I share the same common room ...

When I pondered many weeks ago about accepting the position of Head Boy, for once I completely forgot about Granger and smirked to myself, thinking about how entertaining and how important it would be. The delightful thought of deducting points from far too many chubby Gryffindor first-years, or any Gryffindorks in general, was so satisfying that I replied to Professor McGonagall straight away.

Mother is still surprised at how I managed to achieve this excellent position, seeing as my current reputation could be tweaked to a certain extent. Clearly, Father is far too busy rotting away in his cell at Azkaban to acknowledge Mother and I still exist. Despite the man being my Father, I do not show or feel any remorse referring to his absence, which is definitely not to my dismay.

It feels like Mother is always crying these days. Yes, the war was tough - fuck, it was tough - but I do not spend my days weeping and sobbing about how terrible my life once was, and could have turned out to be. Well, at least I do not repeat these actions in front of others. I do feel awfully guilty for leaving Mother to herself at the Manor, but if I do wish to improve the way I am today, a good education will never hurt. Bollocks, I sound like a Ravenclaw ...

It saddens me that Mother can love Father so strongly to cry over his hideous soul. It leaves me rather confused how she can even have a soft spot for him, I certainly do not! He is vile; cruel! Father does and never did deserve our loyalty! I refuse to tell Mother this, seeing as it will certainly not aid her state of mind, but I wish I could refer to Father as Lucius; he never felt like my Father from the very beginning.

The only worthy factor of Father leaving for Azkaban, is Mother is no longer controlled by that madman. I can tell plenty of weight has been lifted off her small shoulders, despite being a wreak.

I realise now that I am more than grateful I am not in that revolting cell with Father. During my extremely nerve-wracking trial at the Ministry, Potter gave enough evidence to convince Kingsley Shacklebolt I am innocent. Still to this day, I have no bloody idea why Potter stopped me from attending Azkaban.

Another one of Mother and I's post-war experiences that surprised us the most, was my oldest Auntie, Andromeda Tonks, contacted Mother and I months ago. I had only met Andromeda once by accident at Diagon Alley when I was still very young. Since she contacted Mother, she has visited the Manor along with her Grandson, Teddy. I am and never will be a supporter of babies, but surprisingly I quite enjoy spending time with my second Cousin. All I ever knew about my Auntie Andromeda was she became a 'Blood Traitor' and married a Muggleborn. Our family disowned her and despite being far to young to understand what I was doing, I still feel guilt at the pit of my stomach every time she visits.

I would have despised life itself if that have happened to me, which makes the whole situation with Granger much more difficult. I do not want to be disowned, especially by Mother ...

I am being pulled away from my thoughts as the heavy rain outside stops, back to the present in my room in our common room. I am lying in my Slytherin-themed four-poster, the emerald green sheets wrapping nice and tight around my nearly bare body, if it were not for my boxers.

I silently thank Merlin with gratitude that the storm has discontinued.

I detest myself for admitting this, but thunderstorms petrify me. After everything that happened with Voldemort, the blinding cracks of lightening chased by the deafening rumbles of thunder remind me tragically of the Torture Curse cast my way, the Killing Curse eliminating my allies ... Every innocent soul I watched be killed has messed with my mind. Fucking thanks -

My current thoughts pause when I hear shuffling in the corridor, travelling down the steps to the common room.

Fucking hell, Granger!

Almost every night this week she has been keeping this up; pottering around our common room, calmly sipping tea while scrolling through boring arse novels. It appears she either does not realise or does not care that majority of the time she wakes me up. Yep, she does not care. Why would she even care about me in the first pla-?

I come close to jumping out of my skin when a loud rumble of thunder causes my ears to ring. The bloody storm is back! Why, Merlin? Why?

I desperately do not want to be alone anymore. Bloody hell, I sound like a fucking five-year-old.

I scoot out of my warm duvet, lazily pull on one of my baggy Slytherin Quidditch shirts and snatch my wand from my bedside table. After the war, I tend to bring my wand with me everywhere I go, even if I just visit the kitchens during the night at the Manor. I notice now it has turned into an unstoppable habit. Great!

I cautiously open my door and squint at the sudden candle light.

Blimey, Granger, how much light do you want?

I grumpily make my way down the cold steps, peering in front of me to see the back of Granger's head behind the brown armchair she is seated in. Her bushy hair reminds me of a glorious lion's mane, and I mentally slap myself when butterflies are sent to my stomach.

Draco, just stop!

"Granger?" My sleepy voice mixes with the heavy rain bucketing down outside as Granger turns to look at me.

Those eyes; I am instantly lost in those rich honey pools of life - fuck!

"Malfoy," she greets me sternly.

I take my eyes away from her instantly, trailing down to her lips in a straight line, clearly uninterested. I look down at the ground, knowing one more glance at her lips and I will lose all self-control I have, which is slowly slipping through my fingertips like water.

"What are you doing?" I ask her, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. Never before have I been so interested in the mysterious patterns in the carpet ...

"That doesn't concern you," she replies merely, taking a quiet sip of her tea.

I finally pluck up all the courage a Slytherin can muster to look at her. She is now staring at the fireplace, watching the flames roar and eat at the wood -

Another loud rumble causes me to flinch. Thank Merlin Granger was not looking my way ...

Fear rushes through me as I am reminded why I feel so afraid, and I need to see her. I need to see her face again. Blimey, I am acting like that fucking Muggle, what is his name ... Romeo? But it is one of the few things that can comfort me, although it seems to do the opposite at the moment. But I guess it does not hurt to try.

Come on, Draco! Get a grip!

I walk over to the fireplace, pretending to gaze at the magnificent flames. I sneak a quick glance at her and find my eyes are stuck to her like superglue. I watch in awe as the flames dance in her irises, my mouth threatening to fall ajar and is now watering -

Watering? Fucking hell -

"What?"

I realise then Granger is staring at me, confusion is plastered all over her beautiful features.

Merlin, why do I have to describe her like that?

"What?" I say back, slouching in the armchair next to me.

I force myself not to cower down when another loud rumble of thunder fills the room. Granger does not seem bothered by it, or does not even notice it at all. Fucking lucky -

"Malfoy," she begins to say, "can we discuss what we were talking about earlier? It is not like we have anything else to talk about ..."

I contemplate her question for a moment. To be honest, I am in no mood to discuss this right now, but anything to have a conversation with Granger.

Oh Merlin, help me ...

"Uh - well ... I guess we can," I sigh. With a quick flick of my wand, an elegant wine glass filled with Firewhisky is placed in my grasp. Granger looks wearily at me, but I really need the energy to talk about this now.

"So?" she looks at me expectantly, tucking a lock of her luscious hair behind her ear.

I wish she would stop doing that ... it distracts me ...

"Well, uh," I speak awkwardly. "I am not sure where to begin but I need your help."

"I know that," she says, taking another sip of tea. "Continue."

"Have you heard of Wolfsbane Potion?" I ask her.

I am willing to bet she does, but I do not want to make this conversation more awkward than it has to be.

"Of course," she tells me, as if it is an obvious fact.

Well, considering her intelligence, it appears to be ...

"Uh - well ..." Why am I so speechless? "You know a lot about Potions, don't you?"

Granger's face drops almost immeditately, clearly understanding what I am trying to get out of her.

"You want me to make Wolfsbane Potion?" she asks, her eyebrows knitting together in thought after I nod. "What for?"

"That doesn't concern you," I say like she did before, getting a disapproving look from Granger. "But seriously, would you be able to do it?"

"I would like to know what it is going to be used for first," she says simply.

"Why?" I ask her. "It's not like there is going to be any bad side effects or anything -"

"There can be," Granger points out, "if the drinker is not a Werewolf, so I've heard ..."

"Why does it matter?" I snap. "Just tell me if you can or not?"

"Can you not make it yourself?" she inquires, taking her last sip of tea and gently placing it on the coffee table between us. "As far as I know Potions is your best subject."

"Yes," I say, looking at her intently, "but I have never made Wolfsbane Potion in my bloody life -"

"Who says I have -?"

"- and I know you know what ingredients are needed, right?"

Granger stares at me for a moment, clearly confused between all the thoughts that race through that pretty little head of hers. I can tell she is perhaps ... flattered that I admit she is smart, seeing as I never liked to highlight that well-known trait she possesses.

"I - I guess," she mumbles, looking down shyly before her eyes connect with mine. "But where on earth am I supposed to get them from, Malfoy?"

"The Potion's Classroom," I tell her. "Clearly it's obvious, Granger -"

"You want me to steal the ingredients from Professor Slughorn?"

"Of course I would take them for you," I say. "I can't risk you blabbing if you get caught. And ... it's not stealing. It's borrowing. I plan to return the ingredients once you've finished."

"Yeah, the empty bottles," she sighs, running her fingers through her hair again!

Granger, stop fucking doing that!

"Please," I say, shocking Granger once again, "at least think about it."

"How many vials do you want me to make?" Granger asks after minutes and I mean the longest minutes of my life.

"Well ... I realised that Wolfsbane Potion takes a long while to perfect," I tell her. "I was hoping you could keep on making it until you get it right, then teach me."

"How long?" she bites her lip anxiously.

"Surely you know the answer to that, Granger?" I smirk, intertwining my fingers and resting them in my lap.

"I was hoping I was wrong," she says miserably.

That is a change ...

"So," she continues, "for months you want me to make this potion constantly until I get it perfect?"

I merely nod, focusing my gaze back to the fire.

"Why should I do it?" she asks, my head turning to look at her again. "What will you give me in return, Malfoy?"

"Well," I say, trying to hide the second smirk growing across my lips, "I have noticed lately your grades and participation in class is not as good as it used to be. You seem a little ... stressed perhaps." Granger glares at me, looking like she is mentally slitting my throat. It does not surprise me. "So I am offering you my help. If you make this Wolfsbane Potion top notch, I will help you get your grades back up -"

"I don't need your help!" she snaps, clearly agitated. "I am doing fine!"

"I don't think 'fine' defines dropping from an Outstanding to an Acceptable student like that," I say, clicking my fingers. "You need help, Granger, don't deny it!"

Granger looks at me depressingly. I cannot say how much it upsets me to see her so worked up about something as shit as school.

"O-Okay," she finally says, looking to meet my eyes again as I try and hide my concern for her. "I-I'll do it ..."

I knew that would convince her.

I nod in a kind manner, rising from my seat.

"When do I start?" Granger asks as she rises from her own armchair, flicking her wand at her empty mug which disappears.

"First thing after dinner tomorrow," I tell her. "I'll collect the ingredients and equipment during the day. You can begin making it then, if you want."

Granger nods at me, making her way up the stone steps. I slowly saunter behind her, finding myself perspiring when I get too close to her. Bloody hell ...

"Well," she sighs as we reach the top of the steps. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

I watch as she closes her bedroom door behind her, her long brown hair gliding behind as she gracefully carries herself. I swear on my life she is an angel come down from heaven.

So damn cliche!

When I return back to my room, take off my shirt and climb under the duvet, I do not even notice the storm outside has gotten worse, nor care. Granger is not leaving my mind. It is nothing but Granger, Granger, Granger!

I place my wand back on my nightstand with a heavy sigh, resting my head on my pillow. I close my eyes and all I can see is her ... smiling, but not just at anybody, at me.

I wish Granger would smile at me. But, I bet with my life she never will ...

I cannot help but smirk to myself as I think of my current position. I finally get to spend some alone time with Granger. Not with Potter, Weaselbee or any other of her idiotic friends tagging along like lost puppies. Of course that is not the only reason I want her to help me with this Potion, but it is definitely high on the list of reasons why. Obviously I am too cowardly to ever admit this to her. I wish I had the guts to ...

A/N: I hope you like reading the story from the characters' point of views. I find writing in Draco's POV very amusing and it adds a little light to dark days. The next chapter I am planning to write in Hermione's POV. I think it is very important, in any scenario, two have two sides of the story. Especially with such unique, strong characters like Draco and Hermione.

I don't really have anything else important to say. I hope you are all well and thank you for taking your time to read this chapter. I'm looking forward to uploading the next one as soon as I can.

See you soon :)