Chapter 10: Lacewings
"Malfoy, take a look at this," Hermione called to the wizard across the room. For two weeks they had been preparing for their experiments to begin. First they had carefully prepped and stored various ingredients, deciding it best to have everything at the ready in case of last minute adjustments. As a precaution they had also brewed a variety of antidotes to have on hand. Today was their first attempt at brewing their own concoction, and Hermione was feeling that old excitement that she hadn't felt since Hogwarts.
Draco peered over her shoulder. "Hmm... Seems a bit unstable. Maybe we should add a bit of lacewing."
Hermione stared skeptically at the bubbling purple liquid in the cauldron. "Perhaps you're right. A pinch would be enough, don't you think?"
Draco shrugged. "I guess we'll see."
Hermione grabbed the jar labeled 'powdered lacewing' off the self and threw a pinch in the simmering potion. "This is exciting, isn't it?" She turned to Draco, beaming. "It just feels so adventurous, recklessly tossing in ingredients without instructions to follow."
He couldn't help but chuckle. She looked like an 11 year old, giddy with the prospect of starting magic lessons for the first time. "Granger, I'm shocked! Miss Goody Two Shoes is excited about breaking the rules? I never thought I would live to see the day."
"There are no rules, that's what's exciting!" She gushed, unable to help herself. "Besides,," she took on a fake haughty tone, "I broke the rules plenty of times."
"Oh really?" Draco asked, his eyebrow cocked skeptically.
"Yes really," Hermione said defiantly, trying desperately not to find his rakish look attractive.
"Ok Granger, spill it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking. "When did you break the rules? And I don't mean the noble saving Potter's arse, it was all for the greater good Gryffindor nonsense. I mean real, honest to goodness rule breaking."
"Well," she began, wracking her brain. The first thing that came to mind was using a well placed confundus charm to ensure Ron's placement on the Quidditch team, but she really didn't want to tell him that, though she wasn't entirely sure why. "I snuck into the library after hours, and specifically the restricted section, quite a few times."
"Doesn't count," Draco said, waving his hand dismissively. "That's either homework or save the world related. Too goody goody. I want the dirt."
"Ok, ok!" She bit her bottom lip, thinking. Then a slow smile spread across her face. "I don't know if I should tell you."
"You mean because there is nothing to tell?" He teased.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, still smiling slyly. "Fine. Do you remember having to rewrite some essays third year?"
"I do actually. There were at least four parchments for Snape I had to rewrite after they disappeared." He turned to her in shock. "Did you steal my homework?"
"No! No of course not! I would never do that! But I may have," she cleared her throat, trying to contain her grin,"charmed a few parchments to erase themselves after completion."
"That was you!? I thought Goyle was messing with me!" Draco cried, his eyes as big as saucers.
Hermione could no longer contain her laughter. "I'm sorry Malfoy. Really," she said through giggles.
"Yes, I can see the sincerity," he said sarcastically. "I'll have you know Snape took house points for those."
That only made her laugh harder. "Oh, come on. From you? The Slytherin Prince?"
"He did after the first two!" He retorted. He glared at her as she giggled harder. "Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
"I'm sorry," she said unconvincingly, trying to fight the smile that played on her lips. "Really, I am. Forgive me?"
He scowled. "All that extra writing could have strained my wand arm and seriously affected my performances in classes you know."
Hermione rolled her eyes, still trying to reign in her amusement.
"I saw that," he sulked.
"Please?" She gave him her best puppy dog eyes and stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.
Draco's resolve faltered. Slowly he grinned. "I didn't think you had it in you, Granger. I'm impressed."
"Why thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she drawled in her best Snape impression and flashed a dazzling smile. "You deserved it, you know. You were being a royal prat. Then of course there was the time I slapped you."
Draco chuckled. "That one I deserved, I'll admit."
"You did," she nodded solemnly. "So tell me," she said turning serious. "How much of that was an act?"
"What?" He asked, suddenly uncomfortable.
"The whole, better than everyone, King of the Gits bit? You're not like that now, and I had my suspicions about it in school. Quite a few times actually."
Draco sighed and sat in one of the chairs in their makeshift lab. "It's how I was raised, I suppose. Before I even stepped foot in Hogwarts, my father lectured me on who my friends should be. In my family's line of work, you can't trust anyone. So I couldn't either." He smiled sadly. "Being a little prick was just easier, and it was expected of me."
"Do you trust me?" Hermione asked, biting her lip nervously.
Draco looked up. His brow furrowed, unsure what to say. His mouth opened, but he couldn't seem to form words.
"I trust you," Hermione said, searching his grey eyes.
He could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. Once again he was in uncharted territory. He had never been one to open up about anything. But there was something about her that always got him to let his guard down in a way he never did to anyone. It was both terrifying and comforting. "But how can you trust me?" He asked in a pained voiced.
Hermione smiled kindly. "If I ask you something, will you answer truthfully? And to be fair, you can ask me any uncomfortable thing you want and I'll do the same. We'll have a very honest conversation. Deal?" She waited while Draco thought it over and nodded carefully. "Did you believe all the Pureblood superiority stuff you said during school?"
Draco looked down, unable to meet her eye. "I did at first."
"Why?"
He leaned back, running a hand through his blonde locks. He was sure this was the moment when she would come to her senses. "It's what I was taught. Only those with pure blood could truly master magic. I didn't know any muggleborns, so it made sense to me."
Hermione nodded. "And did you believe that all throughout school?"
"I was expected to," he answered.
"But did you?" She countered.
Draco sighed. "I tried to."
"But you questioned it?"
"I tried not to," he said morosely. "But I did."
"Did you ever tell your father?" She asked.
"When I came back first year," he nodded. "Father made some comment about all the muggleborns at the train station and how they had no right to be there. I said I met a few that seemed pretty skilled to me."
Hermione looked down, smiling slightly to herself. Then more seriously, "You don't have to tell me what happened, but was he happy with what you said?"
Draco stiffened. "There were...repercussions."
"And do you think any of those things now?" She asked gently.
"What does it matter now? The damage is done," he said, pointing to his covered forearm.
"Of course it matters," she said. "If everyone was judged by what they did as a stupid teenager, no one would get anywhere in life."
"Well this is a pretty permanent stupid mistake," Draco mumbled, scowling at his arm.
"So do you believe it?" She asked again.
"No," he said simply.
"See? This is why I trust you," she said as if that cleared everything up. He gave her a skeptical look, so she continued. "Do you realize in this whole conversation you used the word 'muggleborn' and not 'mudblood'? You just said yourself you don't believe that rubbish anymore, even though your father and his associates would not be happy with that. And we have seen each other every day for nearly a month and you have yet to kill me for my insufferable ways," she joked.
Draco smirked. "You're not that insufferable."
Hermione beamed. "And a compliment! Well sort of," she laughed. "The point is, you're too hard on had my back with Mr. Inchworm, don't think I didn't notice that. I appreciated it. Trust, Malfoy. It's what friends do."
Draco smiled despite himself. Friends. He wondered if she knew how much that word meant to him, especially coming from her. He suddenly needed her to know. There was an overwhelming urge to tell her how incredible she really was, how much she meant to him. But he knew that he couldn't. And he would be terrified to hear her response. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize what they had now. Mustering up his courage he looked her in the eye. "I do trust you," he said quietly.
He watched as Hermione's face softened. A shy smile curved her lips and her eyes twinkled with a mixture of happiness and something else he couldn't quite place. "I'm glad," she answered.
"Granger," he began, unsure of what was going to follow. It was clear to him in this moment that his feelings ran much deeper than a simple infatuation. She took a step towards him and his breath hitched. Something moved behind her. It was the bubbling potion that had been all but forgotten. It was now a violent shade of purple and gurgling furiously. The almost tender moment was gone and his eyes widened nervously. "Granger!" She said again more urgently.
Hermione turned to see what he was starting at. She barely had time to register what she saw or why Draco was trying to grab her arm before the mixture erupted, spraying purple liquid everywhere.
Draco sprang forward, spinning Hermione towards him. The entire upper portion of her body was covered in purple goo. "Are you ok?" He asked, searching for any obvious wounds.
"I think we brewed it a little too long," she said meekly.
Malfoy burst out into a relieved laughter. "Ok, well you still have your sense of humor. Come here and let's check the damage." He took her hand and lead her a few steps away from the puddles of potion. With a flick of his wand he turned off the flames under the cauldron then turned to face her. Very carefully he began siphoning off the offending liquid, watching for anything out of the ordinary. When that was done he held up his hands, motioning to her face. "May I?" He asked.
Hermione swallowed and nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.
Slowly Draco put his hands on her face, feeling for fever, lingering magic, or injuries. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as his long fingers traced her forehead, trailing down her neck and under her chin. She willed herself not to gasp when his thumbs briefly brushed her lip before continuing to her cheeks, lingering there longer than was necessary. She barely noticed, and found that if anything she wished they would stay there.
Draco took a reluctant step back, swallowing hard and shaking his head slightly. He tried to use some of the Malfoy composure, hoping it would calm his breathing and rapid heartbeat. "Well there doesn't seem to be any sign of injury," he said more huskily than he had hoped. "How do you feel?"
"Er-" Hermione started uncertainly, biting her lip. Any adjective that came to mind now had little to do with the potion and everything to do with Draco's soft hands exploring her face. Her heart was still beating erratically. "Fine, I think," she said a bit breathlessly.
"You're glowing," Draco said with a curious look.
"Oh," Hermione said, embarrassed. Was her reaction to his touch that obvious?
"No, I mean you're literally glowing," he said stepping closer. He looked closely at her face. "More of a shimmer actually. It's rather pleasant, really."
Hermione touched her face gingerly. "I'm going to go—er—wash up and see if that helps," she said as she left the room.
As soon as she was gone Draco collapsed into one of the armchairs. Merlin he was in trouble. He closed his eyes, trying to will away thoughts of how close they had been and the feel of her velvety skin. Of course that was like saying don't think of a hippogriff then trying not to. It's all he could think about. His hand was still tingling from the caress of her skin.
Draco bolted straight up, horrified. Sweet Merlin he had caressed her skin! What was he thinking? Yes he had to check the affected area. He had witnessed Snape doing a similar check over that Finnegan bloke when his cauldron ended up in his face, but he could have done it in a more professional manner. He hardly thought Snape brushed his thumb over Finnegan's lips. And even more likely he didn't then tell him the after effect looked pleasant.
Groaning, he cast a quick scourgify around the room. Maybe she hadn't noticed, he thought pitifully. Surely she would have said something if she had.
"Well I don't know about a healing potion," Hermione said as she came back into the room, "but I think we just made a dandy of a skin product!"
Draco looked up. Sure enough, she was shimmering everywhere the potion had touched. He found it quite...stunning. "Uh-" was all he managed.
"Not exactly what I'd like to be known for, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to keep the notes of how we did it," she said walking over to her quill to write the results.
"Did any of it touch your scar? Is it reaction the same?" He asked when he came back to his senses.
"No," she said disappointed. "I checked, it was covered. Did you save any?"
"Already scourgified."
"Well then, on to the next!" She said brightly.