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VII: The Sun

The sun shone brightly overhead, and Hermione basked in the relaxing rays of the warm morning. She leaned back into the wooden bench as the whirl of broomsticks and quaffles zoomed overhead. It had been nearly a week since Hermione had seen Draco, and with each day she grew more restless. A chronic sense of anxiety sat heavy on her chest as she ruminated about her elicit romance with the mysterious blond. Had she been making it up all along? Maybe he wasn't into her and she was just playing the fool... Questions bore into her mind. When Harry invited her to watch the Gryffindor's practice before classes, Hermione was grateful for the distraction. She was the only person in the Gryffindor stands, though she observed a few excited first year students that watched in awe across the field. Her Defense Against the Dark Arts book lay open on her lap and a quill dangled between her fingers as she reclined, letting the sunshine settle on her.

Suddenly a flash of red zoomed before her, close enough to cause her hair to ruffle in the wind. She was uncertain whether the redhead in question was Ron or Ginny. Ronald Weasley had, despite Hermione's best efforts at convincing him otherwise, rejoined the Quidditch team as soon as Madame Pomfrey allowed him out of the hospital. He seemed entirely recovered now, and Hermione couldn't help but hide her relief when the hospital wing doors swung open to present a healthy and well-rested Ron. She wasn't sure whether it was her imagination, but Hermione noticed his hand lingering several beats beyond their usual friendly hug as he held her against him. Quickly, though, they resumed back to their casual, playful friendship, and Hermione began to accept his relationship with Lavender. She couldn't exactly hold a grudge, considering her recent amour with a certain Slytherin.

Hermione attempted to brush the subject from her mind, growing more and more irritated at Draco's recent absence. She looked down into her book and attempted to read the sentences on the page, but her mind continued to wander as she huffed with frustration. Although it had only been several days since she had last seen him in the girl's lavatory, Hermione was under the impression that she would at least see him in their shared classes, or in the Great Hall for dinner. He had all but disappeared since their last encounter, and she was beginning to feel like she had been imagining the entire affair.

That'd be rich, she thought to herself, perhaps I'm going insane.

The thought quickly dissipated as she buried her nose in her book and willed herself to focus on her classwork. Time passed by in a blur as she had been sixteen pages into the chapter before her focus was broken by the sounds of her name being shouted from below. She had completely missed the Gryffindor's wrap-up of the practice, and they appeared to be waving at her as they collected their belongings from the Quidditch grounds. Hermione snapped her book shut and rushed down to the pitch, meeting up with her friends.

"It's a good thing we have you to watch us practice," Ron jabbed at her sarcastically, "Merlin knows what would happen if someone got hurt."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's quiet up there, I can get a lot of studying done," she retorted, "besides, haven't you been hurt enough this month? Maybe you can try to avoid injury for once in your life."

"Right," he responded, "I'll be sure to remember that." Ron rolled his eyes at her, teasingly, and Hermione smiled in amusement at their playfulness. She had missed him.

"Hurry up, or we'll miss breakfast," Harry shouted, walking several feet ahead of them. As she nodded to acknowledge Harry's words, Hermione's eyes spotted a small creature in the grass bounding toward them and as recognition dawned on her, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"You lot go ahead," she yelled toward Harry and urged Ron forward, "I forgot my notebook up in the stands."

"D'you want me to come with you?" Ron offered, hopeful.

"And miss breakfast? Are you mad?" Hermione responded, pushing Ron's shoulder forward to urge him away, "No, thank you though, go on ahead. I'll be there soon."

Hermione turned to walk toward the Quidditch pitch, knowing full well that the little bouncing creature would follow her. Her pace slowed, allowing it to reach her, and as soon as Harry and Ron were out of sight Hermione bent down to pick up the small paper rabbit with a smile, the anxiety of potential discovery fading quickly. The brown rabbit hopped in Hermione's hand as she read the silver letters on the rabbits leg, "tap me with your wand." Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped it on the small paper animal's back; she was appreciative of Draco's precautionary spell, even if Harry and Ron had found the paper rabbit it would not open to their wands, only her own.

As she tapped it with her wand, the bouncing paper rabbit stood still and the paper body draped open revealing a small colorful cord. Upon further inspection Hermione noticed that the cord was constructed of various enchanted blossoms of different colors, woven together into a thin bracelet. Hermione gazed at the piece, gracefully turning it over in her hand as her cheeks grew warm. They appeared to be wild flowers, with white, yellow, lavender, and dusty pink petals, intricately woven together with a spell that caused them to glisten like jewels in the sun. She slipped the delicate bracelet onto her wrist and the thin stems of the flowers began to tighten and grow around her wrist, some of them bloomed as they touched her skin. She tried to recall if she had ever received a gift so beautiful. At least, she thought, coming back down to Earth, he's trying to make up for his absence.

She had almost forgotten that the deconstructed rabbit she was holding had a message written on it.

Thinking of you, my petal.

I'm planning on stealing a few cauldrons today,

perhaps I can see you Friday after dinner,

Same place. I'm hopeful.

DM

A smile broke out on Hermione's lips as she stuffed the letter into the pocket of her cloak. Her mind whirred at the prospect of seeing him again, though a nagging sense of irritation lingered in her mind at his absence. She looked down at the bracelet that hugged her small wrist; it had now neatly grown to cover an inch of her wrist and had developed stunning blossoms and small vines, similar to the vines that adorned her wand. She pulled the sleeve of the cloak down to cover her wrist and bounded toward the castle to join her fellow Gryffindors at breakfast. Regardless of his unexcused absence, Hermione felt a sense of relief that she would see him again.

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It was almost as though Draco's sweet gesture allowed Hermione's mind to relax. Breakfast was pleasant, her morning classes went smoothly, and Hermione was determined to complete her Potion's class successfully. Harry had been the star pupil in Slughorn's class, and although Hermione attempted desperately to force down any feeling of jealousy and inadequacy, her competitiveness reared its ugly head and fueled her drive to succeed. Regardless of how focused Hermione was to complete her potion and come out on top, all manner of comfort and relaxation went out the window as she, Harry, and Ron walked past the fog of fumes and vapors into their potions class where silver blond hair appeared in her field of vision.

What? she thought, Now he decides to show up? Draco Malfoy had missed dozens of their shared classes, and today he decided was the day to attend class and throw her off her game. Hermione scowled to herself, though she had a difficult time denying the feeling of her heartbeat ringing in her ear, reminding her of her excitement to see him again.

Hermione's gaze scanned the room as she followed her best friends. There was only one open table, with an additional seat to house the three Gryffindors, and Hermione felt the lump in her throat swell as they sat directly in front of the quiet Slytherin. He did not move, his nose deep into a thick textbook. Hermione recognized some of the images in his book as celestial maps. Curious, she thought to herself, I didn't know he is taking Divination this year.

"Malfoy's here," Harry whispered to the two of them, knocking Hermione out of her thoughts.

"Tosser finally decided to show up to class," Ron responded with a scowl. Hermione was sure Ron spoke loud enough for Draco to hear, though if he did, Draco made no acknowledgment of it.

"Wonder what he's been up to for the past few weeks," Harry mused as Hermione attempted to ignore their remarks and turn to the page of today's lesson in her copy of Advanced Potion-Making.

"Mr. Malfoy!" the booming voice of Horace Slughorn made Hermione jump, "Good to have you back to class, chap." Hermione heard Draco mumble a soft thanks. "Severus told me you'd been quite ill with the Sneezing Sickness, I'm glad you are better!" Hermione snorted in spite of herself, and attempted to pass it as a hearty cough. Ron, seeing Hermione in a coughing fit, cracked a hard pat on her back which caused her to nearly fall out of her seat from the force.

She mumbled a quiet, "thanks," and he nodded sincerely.

"You are all in for a treat today, we will be brewing the Antidote to Veritaserum!" Slughorn announced, pulling a whole potted mandrake out from behind the counter and placed it before them. "Please turn to page 168 in your textbooks. And for time's sake, let's all pair off! Go ahead and pair with someone in front or behind you; first and second rows pair together, and third and fourth rows can pair together. Let's see who can make the best antidote today!"

"I've got Goyle!" Ron whispered with disgust. It wasn't until Ron spoke that Hermione realized the implications of the seating order; she looked up to see the sterling eyes of Draco looking at her from behind his table. "It isn't bad enough that I have to work with him, but he's also rubbish at brewing potions!"

Harry nodded sympathetically and looked over his shoulder to the seats behind him. "Oh no, I'm with Romilda. And Hermione, you're with Malfoy! D'you want to trade?"

"N-no, Harry, that's fine. I'm sure Romilda won't get in your way quite as much as D-Malfoy will. Don't worry about me, I'd imagine I'll be doing most of the work," she whispered to them.

"Alright, all of you, come get your ingredients and once you've found your partners," Slughorn announced, a satisfactory smile on his portly face.

Hermione moved swiftly to obtain the ingredients of the antidote. Draco had taken the task to pick out an appropriate cauldron and had set up a work station in the back corner. With a nervous but determined exhale, Hermione made her way toward him. As she approached holding a heavy mandrake pot, he promptly took it from her and nodded firmly in formal acknowledgment.

A few minutes passed as they organized their work station and Hermione gradually became accustomed to his presence. Although she felt more than comfortable around him when they had their privacy, Hermione was wary of having to interact with him while her classmates were present, especially Harry and Ron who fortunately were currently busy with their own potions partners.

"Move it, Granger," Draco said, his tone acidic but the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips as he poured a small vial of Black Sea water into the cauldron.

"Just let me take care of this, Malfoy, and we won't fail," she responded, matching his icy tone. "Pass me some mandrake leaves," she instructed as he huffed.

"So bossy," he complained, tearing a few leaves off the stem and passing them to her as Hermione's hands deftly went to work dicing the leaves. He moved closer to watch her in her element when she felt his hand lightly and cautiously run over the side of her hip and gave it a little squeeze. Visible goosebumps developed on her arms at his touch and she could almost feel him smirking behind her. Her fingers, however, continued to work and she gasped as she realized she had run out of leaves to cut and nearly chopped off the tip of her finger. "Careful," Draco cooed into her ear as Hermione's eyes shot up to scan the classroom for any unwanted observers. Harry was clearly too focused with keeping Romilda's affections at bay while Ron was arguing with Goyle over which sized cauldron to use. Everyone appeared busy with their own concoctions but the fear of discovery made Hermione's heart pound.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she snapped, attempting to act as her usual combative self against her public enemy. He casually moved away from her to busy himself with crushing dried pufferfish. "I got your, er, package," Hermione whispered under her breath and Draco smiled down at the powder.

"Will you come? Friday?" he whispered back, moving closer to her to scatter the contents into their cauldron.

"I will," she murmured back and before his smile could linger enough for someone to notice, she raised her voice, "You need to stir this, quickly or it will boil over."

"Stop telling me what to do," he retorted with faux irritation. Hermione noticed the red hair snap up and blue eyes bore into her as Ron took a keen interest in their argument. Hermione knew his expression, having seen it many times throughout her life.

Hermione turned around, away from view, and pretended to search for some runespoor eggs as she whispered under her breath again.

"Be careful, Ron is watching. He probably thinks you're going to attack me, I know that protective glare anywhere." Hermione didn't need to look at Draco to know that he was glowering at the sound of Ron's name but he kept quiet, tending to the cauldron.

A few minutes passed in silence as Hermione carefully cracked three runespoor eggs and dropped the contents into the stewing cauldron. She kept a close eye on Ron, who had now gone back to arguing with Goyle over who should stir. She reached to lower the heat and bring the antidote down to a simmer when she heard the sound of a man cursing under his breath. Looking up, she saw Draco cradling his hand which appeared to be covered in red swollen welts.

"What happened?" she demanded as he showed her the hand.

"I don't know, I was picking the leaves off that plant and my hand just started to burn," he pointed to thin, long stalks with leaves that resembled mint but had spiked edges. Hermione took his hand in hers and inspected it noticing that the skin was continuing to develop small hive-like bumps.

"Draco, that's stinging nettle. You aren't supposed to handle it without gloves," she admonished. "Here, I'll get something for it."

Without another word, Hermione crossed the classroom and scoured the Potions cabinet for a silver tin of balm which she brought back to him.

"This should do it," she murmured as she applied the thick paste with her index finger and Draco watched with concern. She looked up at him as she wrapped his hand with cotton. "Haven't you ever seen nettle before? They grow all over my neighborhood," Hermione spoke softly, "though mostly near the meadow."

"No," Draco responded, "I was never the outdoors-type growing up, except for Quidditch. Besides, father always liked our garden to be pristine, he'd never tolerate the growth of any weeds or pests. You lived near a meadow?" He asked curiously.

"What's this, an injury?" the booming voice of Horace Slughorn made Hermione nearly jump out of her skin from being startled. She had almost forgotten where she was, she had been so intent on healing his hand that she forgot she was supposed to hate him.

"No, Sir," Draco responded stiffly, pointing to the plants next to him as Hermione rushed to tend to the brewing cauldron, "I just got stung by some nettle, forgot to use gloves."

Hermione could have sworn she heard Ron say, "What an idiot," but could not confirm as he had been facing away from her.

"Ah, yes, my boy it's a good thing you have Miss Granger here to cure your ailments," Slughorn proclaimed. "She is a fine young witch, especially adept at Potions, although," Slughorn paused singing her praises as he looked over at their cauldron, its contents bubbling slowly and the stench of salty sea wafting upwards, "this particular antidote has been neglected for a pinch too long, though it may be recoverable yet."

Hermione gasped, the idea of failing the potion causing her to grow into a panic as she picked up the nettle leaves with a cloth and dumped them into the cauldron, stirring furiously. The previously lethargic looking potion had sprung back to life, its color fading from black to a crystal emerald blue and the scent transforming to a less putrid essence of fresh water.

"There it is," Slughorn announced and nodded affirmatively. Hermione sighed a breath of relief as the concoction received a passing grade.

"Sorry about that," Draco muttered as Slughorn turned to walk away and Hermione began to clean up the counters.

"It's fine," she said curtly, "we passed."

They both moved toward the back corner of the classroom, placing some of the ingredients into the cupboard as Hermione took a moment to glance him over. Although he still looked tired, he looked healthier, as if color had come back to his face. She smiled to herself and reached up to place the jar of dried pufferfish to a higher shelf, her robe sleeves accomodating her reach as the colorful flowers on her bracelet came into view on her wrist.

"Thank you for the bracelet," she whispered as she touched the soft enchanted flowers on her wrist, "it's stunning."

Despite his best efforts, Draco's smile could not be hidden.

"I'm glad you liked it," he whispered, turning back around toward the workstation. With a flick of his wrist, the remaining tools began to clean themselves and levitate back to their cupboards. Draco ducked down behind the counter and Hermione noticed that he had begun shrinking large pewter cauldrons and shoving them into his book bag. She rolled her eyes, somewhat impressed at his ability to smuggle them without anyone's notice.

"Told you I'd get them," he whispered with a smirk as he shut his bag, "I've got to go. I'll see you Friday night, wear something warm." With that final instruction, he turned and left the classroom.

But aren't we supposed to brew potions in Myrtle's bathroom? she thought. Alright then. She was finally beginning to realize that it would be more beneficial for her to not assume anything when it comes to Draco Malfoy.

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