Helping Hand

Hermione used her hand to waft the fumes of her potion toward her nostrils. Its bitter and pungent smell made her crinkle her nose in disgust. Another failed attempt! She felt she was never going to be able to disguise this potion's distinctive odor and flavor. She made a face and floated her cauldron to the sink to start cleaning with the other three failures. She used the back of her arm to wipe the sweat and strands of frizz from her brow. She looked up and once more she found his eyes on her. His unabashed stare made her uncomfortable and she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Who is it for?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow, puzzled by his question. She mentally sized him up, trying to decide what to tell him. The truth? Not likely. "I'm only wondering because maybe you should consider the drinker's personality and preferences when attempting to mask the taste of Willoward Elixir." He had been watching her! Studying what ingredients she used and spying on her futile attempts.

"Well I'm trying to give it to someone without their knowledge. But I can't seem to find an additive that is strong enough and doesn't affect the performance of the potion." Hermione didn't know why she was telling him these things, maybe it was because she had almost ruined his hard work and felt guilty, maybe she was just that desperate. But then maybe it had something to do with his eyes. They looked different somehow than she was used to. She stared at him a bit more closely. He wasn't glaring or mocking her which made him squint less. It opened up his whole eye area and made his gray orbs seem enlarged on his face. It was a bit disorienting to see him in that light, the intense look upon his face, and the smoky white fumes of Ferrediamus rising and curling before him, barely caressing his high cheekbones.

"Without their knowledge? How very... sneaky of you. I think your little friends Potter and Weasley should know what they're walking into before you try to trick them into taking a potion like that." Hermione snapped out of her musings.

"It's not for them. They would take anything I gave to them and ask questions later, no matter what it tastes like." Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. Realizing her mistake she quickly amended, "Not that they're stupid or gullible, we just trust each other."

"Would you blindly drink a potion Weasley had brewed?" Malfoy's mouth was quirked in amusement.

"Well I guess what I meant to say is that they not only trust my intentions, but also my magical ability in potionmaking as well."

"I see. Well if not for those two, then who are placing a great deal of time and energy into deceiving?"

"It's not deception if I am doing it for their benefit. I have no ill-intentions."

"So you say. But what you haven't said is the name of your victim. This in itself implies that you are hiding something. And hiding things is often a symptom of deceitfulness. Ask any Slytherin." At this his eyes sparkled with laughter. Of course he would never laugh out loud, but his eyes let Hermione know that if he were the sort of person who chuckled, he would be at that moment.

"Well I would tell you, but you know how rumors get around in this school. And everyone knows what a gossip you are, Draco Malfoy. Ask any Gryffindor." She smiled at him, a saccharine sweet upturn of her lips, referring to the numerous times he had spread slanderous comments about Harry and even the occasional girl he had slept with.

"I was only inquiring because I saw you struggling and thought you might need some assistance. I was mistaken." He turned his face down and resumed his reading while he waited for another batch of Ferrediamus to cure.

"You have a solution?" She asked surprised, mostly at his offer of help, but also at his abilities in Potions. She had no idea he knew as much as he did. She had always assumed Snape played favorites.

"Maybe, but first you have to answer me a question about your mystery beneficiary."

"Maybe I will answer, but it depends on the nature of your question," was her coy reply.

"Well that makes me all the more intrigued." He quirked an eyebrow at her as he slowly walked toward her table to study her work.

"I am assuming that your intended target is not slow minded, otherwise you would not be going to such great lengths."

"Is that a question?"

"No. My question is: Does your target often ingest sweets or candies? Anything sugary at all?"

"No, actually sugar is not often in their diet."

"Then stop trying to make your potion taste sweet, for that would only raise suspicion. May I suggest something?"

"Please! I don't know what else to try."

"Caviar."

"Caviar?"

"Only the finest. It will throughly dissolve and leave no physical traces. And the only taste left would be a bit of a fishy flavor that could easily be masked by mixing the potion with a sauce and serving it over a piece of fish."

"Holy mackerel!"

"I'm sure mackerel would work but I prefer Alaskan cod."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter! You have no idea how much you have helped me just now! I can't believe it! I'm completely flabbergasted! How in the world did you ever think to try that?"

"You forget where and how I spend my holidays, Granger. When you wine and dine with the Malfoys for special occasions, caviar is never far off. It was a matter of time before I began experimenting with it in my own concoctions. My favorite is using it in Gulliptis Gellam and then slipping it into my father's shrimp cocktail sauce when the house elves aren't looking. He never opposes my opinions or suggestions for the rest of the night after taking my gullibility potion." Malfoy gave her a sly wink and a smirk.

"I'd give all the books I own just to see one night of Lucius Malfoy subdued and weak minded."

"Well I haven't done anything like that in a year and a half since Father went to Azkaban." Hermione had no words to say to that so she turned her attention back to grating her ginger.

Hermione knew that Draco had been going through a painful change in his life over the course of sixth year. He had estranged himself from everyone once considered close to him. He would disappear for what seemed like days where no one would see him at meals or hanging out with his friends. Harry had thought it especially incriminating, thinking it proof that he was aligned with the Dark Lord and spending all his time doing his bidding. Ron, when he was not of the same opinion as Harry, for one reason or another, would claim Malfoy was so busy getting laid that it was no wonder people never saw him. There were certain girls in Hogwarts of loose morals that were attracted to the handsome, brooding type of male. They liked to fancy themselves the only women who could "connect" with Malfoy. As if they understood anything about him.

Hermione had believed neither Harry nor Ron when it came to what Draco Malfoy was doing with his time. She hadn't particularly cared, once she decided for herself that Malfoy wasn't involved with the Dark Arts. Looking back on it now, she realized he must have been holed up in the Room of Requirement, probably working on potions. He seemed to have quite the affinity for the subject. She herself would probably have found it just as enjoyable as Arithmancy or Ancient Runes if Snape had shown her the same partiality he had Malfoy. She had done some independent study on Chemistry during her last summer holiday at Grimmauld Place and found the subject fascinating. Potions seemed like the natural magical equivalent, how mixing different elements and compounds can create something unique and distinctive. Perhaps she should do as Malfoy had and study Potions on her own, gain an unbiased opinion on the subject. She would consider the matter further.

In any case, Malfoy's year of secrecy had changed him somehow. He still teased her and her friends, but the malice was gone, vanished. The insults had toned down and were almost playful. Harry and Ron only noticed that Malfoy held his tongue more often and attributed it to two things. Firstly, the fact that his father was still in Azkaban had shamed him. He couldn't act like he had any special status in Hogwarts because his father could no longer blackmail the school's governors. Secondly, because Hermione and Malfoy lived in such close quarters, being Head Boy and Girl, Harry and Ron assumed they had made some sort of truce to make the year more bearable. Truth be told, there was no need to. He had been courteous to her from day one, so she had followed suit. He had turned out to be a polite roommate and he hadn't brought a girl back to his room all year, as far as Hermione knew. Of course it was only early November and she didn't make it a habit to wander into Draco Malfoy's room and check for young girls under his covers. But if she were to be honest with herself, had Hermione never interacted with Malfoy until seventh year she thought it quite possible they would have become friends. As it were, she was content with their polite acknowledgment of one another. At least she had been content until she stumbled into the dragon's lair.

The solution Malfoy had provided her with was not without its faults. How was she to obtain caviar of that fine a quality? It was sure to be very expensive and she doubted she would find any caviar at all down in the kitchens. Nor in Hogsmeade. Maybe since Malfoy had suggested the caviar, and mentioned using it in potions himself, he might have a small supply in his room, or access to some. She resolved to ask him.

"Malfoy?" she ventured.

"Hmm?" He looked up from his book.

"You wouldn't happen to have some of that caviar you mentioned, would you?"

"Not on me, no." Her face fell. "But I can get you some in a few days."

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"On one condition."

"Well of course I'll pay you back for it."

"No, I don't want your money."

"Well what then?"

"You have to promise me..." he paused and looked her right in the eye, "You have to promise me you will never ever wear those shoes again." Hermione's face flushed red. She had almost forgotten the look on his face when he saw her shoes, but the memory came flooding back in full detail.

"I think that can be arranged." Caviar for a pair of nasty rotting shoes? She'd just have to transfigure a pair of her other shoes into a more flattering style.

"Now."

"What do you mean?" She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Lets go burn your shoes. Now. I'm a bit hungry since we missed dinner. We'll go down to the kitchens and have some sandwiches while we watch them burn. Come on, it'll be fun." He winked at her and smirked.

She looked at him skeptically. "But what-"

"Come on, Granger! For once in your life, quit questioning everything and just go with it!" He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the room. Shocked, Hermione let him lead her down the hall and toward the kitchens.