Chapter 3
Draco didn't have an appetite for the rest of the day. Every time he came across Hermione Granger, he quickly dodged her because he didn't want to feel more ill than he already was. The thought of something romantic happening between them... it disgusted him. Honestly, it disgusted him more than the fact that he has to kill the headmaster.
He abruptly left Annabelle that morning after she said he needed to see past the mudblood side of Hermione. He muttered "impossible" and was off. That ghost girl was truly speaking nonsense. He'll spend the rest of the day keeping his head down, and after classes, cooped up in his common room, working on homework, trying to get his mind off of Hermione and Annabelle.
But he wasn't so lucky, as far as staying away from the girl who once punched him in the nose. Actually, he wanted to steer clear of her since then, but only because she had it coming to her, not because he was afraid of her.
For potions class, his last class of the day, Slughorn decided to pair the students up while they concocted a happiness potion, or an "Elixir to Induce Euphoria." Draco scoffed at that. What he needs is an anti-vomiting potion. He had actually looked up the ingredients for it in his potions textbook the night before, and wanted to concoct it himself in some deserted tower of the castle.
"Alright everyone," Slughorn said, clapping his hands to stop the chattering teens. "I put all your names on pieces of parchment, and mixed them together in this hat here. I'll pick out two names at a time." He pointed at the students. "No changing partners. We're here to learn from one another, understand?"
He commenced pulling names out, and groans and "yays" were heard around the room. Draco's name was called. He glanced around at the people who weren't chosen yet, and some turned their heads from him when they caught his gaze. Obviously people wouldn't want to be his partner. Well, he doesn't want to be their partner either. He would rather work on his own. Independence should have been his middle name.
"And Draco's partner is... Hermione Granger."
Draco's heart dropped to his stomach. Mild gasps were heard, and both Draco and Hermione stared at their professor, and Draco really thought about disapperating out of the room. Disapperating and vomiting. He really felt ill in the stomach.
"But Professor..." Hermione began, but Slughorn countered, "No changing partners, Granger, as I have said."
Hermione glanced at Draco, and he looked away from her. Just his luck. Of course he would be paired with her when he wanted to avoid her. Maybe that bloody ghost girl had something to do with it. How would a ghost that people could see do something, though? Magic. It was all magic.
Once Slughorn finished with the name draws, he told everyone to get with their partners, pick a table and get to work. They had the whole class period to make their potion. Hermione stood at a table near the front. Draco didn't move from his spot in the back. She gave him a glare, and his nose twisted. He might as well get this over with. He cantered up to the table and stood there, arms folded, as he stared at the empty cauldron in front of them. Hermione sorted out the ingredients.
"Care to help?" she asked.
"Not really."
"Well, if you want decent marks on this, you have to help."
His nose twitched again. He spent two hours doing the assignment he missed the day before because he was talking with Annabelle. He didn't want any more marks deducted and get a bad grade. That could mean his GPA would lower, and he would get scolded by his father. He recalled how is father reacted when he got a poor school on his O.W.L.s... that's a memory he wishes he could forget. He took the shrivelfig and added it to the red-color liquid in the cauldron—Hermione had already started with the peppermint.
"You didn't even look at the book," she observed. She looked into the cauldron and saw it turn turquoise. She stared wide-eyed at him. "Have you made this before?"
"Not once. I just pay attention." He eyed her still-surprised expression. "Don't be so shocked, Granger. I actually do my homework, you know."
After doing his homework assignment, and researching the stomach ailment-curing potion, he read through this one as well since Slughorn mentioned that they were going to do it in class. It's a good thing he developed a photographic memory in the past few years. He just never cared to use it until now.
Hermione looked back at the table and prepared the porcupine quills. Draco stirred the liquid until it turned a solid blue. He let it be, and both he and Hermione waited a few minutes for it to turn yellow. She eyed him for a moment. He noticed, but didn't look at her. "What, Granger?"
"Are you sure you've never made this before?"
"Positive. Were you dozing when Slughorn told us yesterday about the process of making it?"
"I..." She caught her tongue. "Of course I was paying attention."
"Or not."
"Well excuse me for not having a perfect memory."
"I never said I had a perfect memory."
"It sure seemed like you were."
"Well, what if I do? What's it to you, mudblood?"
That caused her to frown and look away from him. "Just my rotten luck," she muttered.
"I can say the same," he said, and noticed the concoction turn yellow. He added the porcupine quills until the potion turned blue again. Hermione was still in a huff. "Get over it, Granger. I've called you that name before."
"It still doesn't make it right," she snapped. "When will you ever learn your lesson?"
That stung. He glared at her and dug his fingernails into the wooden table, remembering Gregory and how similar he discovered they were, and how Gregory's attitude caused the death of an innocent, love-struck girl. Slughorn suddenly stood in front of their table and looked down into the cauldron.
"Nice work, you two," he said. "Now, how about more work and less bickering, alright?" He smiled and walked on to another table.
"You're the one who paired us together," Draco muttered bitterly, but knew his professor couldn't hear him.
"It was random," said Hermione.
"I'm not stupid—I know."
"Then—oh, golly, nevermind."
She groaned in annoyance and looked at the potion and saw that it turned purple. Draco noticed as well. They both, at the same time, went for the caster beans and Hermione's hand ended up covering his. Both their eyes widened.
"Get your grimy hand off!" he ordered and swiped the beans away, and his heart started racing. He hated that it did.
"It was an accident," she quipped, irritated.
He huffed and added seven of the beans, one at a time. Hermione looked at the book and Draco knew that it said to add them two seconds apart from each other. She watched Draco drop them in and he was amused at her surprise that he was doing exactly that.
"Unbelievable..." she muttered, and he heard. He smirked with pride since, for once, someone thought him intelligent. Given, Hermione thought it was shocking, but still. They waited in silence for the potion to simmer to a brown color, and as the other students around were making all kinds of noises—laughter, gasps, and happy conversations. Hermione smiled when she glanced over and saw Potter and Weasley with both their heads over their potion, with Weasley muttering, "It's not supposed to be that color... what'll we do?" Draco surmised that she would have loved to be paired with one of her friends. He would have loved that as well. He wouldn't even mind being paired with Pansy.
The potion took longer to simmer to a brown—about fifteen minutes. Draco felt the awkwardness. At least, he felt awkward, thinking about that vision. He really needs to stop thinking about it. He noticed Hermione go for the shrivelfig, so he went and grabbed it before she could and started to add it to the potion, not one glance made at the textbook. Hermione stared at him.
"I have to say, Draco, I'm impressed. Maybe for the first time since I met you."
Somehow, that didn't make him feel any better, even though it was supposed to be a complement. "Don't be too shocked."
"Too late for that."
Draco tried to ignore Hermione staring at him in disbelief, disbelief that he actually has a brain inside his blonde head. After he added the shrivelfig, he just stared at the opposite stone wall, and again hated how his heart was reacting to that mudblood's gaze on him. But it turned to the potion.
"It's orange, Draco," he heard her say, and he blinked and looked down at the potion.
"I can see that."
"Then let's add the wormwood."
"I'm not stopping you."
He heard her huff through her nose in frustration. She added the wormwood in and the two stood there looking over it for a good twenty minutes, and how uncomfortable those twenty minutes were. Draco sat down in a chair, arms folded, trying his best not to think about that vision. But it came anyway. He glanced up at Hermione, and saw that she was speaking to a girl that was standing at the table behind them. Hermione was smiling, and that caused his heart to jump. He looked away, appalled that he actually thought that her smile was... attractive. He glanced at her again, and that smile was still there. Annabelle actually saw him fall in love with Hermione? How? He loathes her. And if he angers his family because of the relationship, then she falls in love with him at some point as well. How in Merlin's name is that supposed to happen? She loathes him, too, and she has a stupid crush on Weasley—everyone knows that, as well as the fact that Weasley feels the same. It's just, the two don't know how the other feels. The idiots. And Hermione considers herself a brilliant person.
She turned her head, and he looked away instantly. Heat rose up his neck. He really doesn't need her to notice that he was staring at her. In fact, he was angry that he was in the first place. Dammit, Annabelle, putting ideas into his head.
Hermione looked away from the girl she was talking to and stood in front of the cauldron. "It's perfect," she said, and Draco stood up and looked into it. The liquid was a beautiful golden yellow. Hermione pulled out her wand.
"What's that for?"
"Apparently you missed this part. We have to cast a cheering charm on it."
He did not miss that part, he just forgot about it. Now that she said it, he remembered reading it the night before. He pointed a hand to the potion. "By all means."
She uttered the charm, and the cauldron interior shot out bright yellow light, like the sun, and everyone in the classroom noticed. Slughorn clapped and cheered. "Oh, oh! You two have done it!" He stood in front of them. "The perfect euphoria elixir shoots out yellow light if it is concocted correctly! Excellent job! I'm going to be pairing you two together more often." He sniffed the potion. "And you added peppermint. Excellent move, there, you two."
All the students around stared at them in shock, and Draco felt heat rise up his neck again. "How humiliating," he muttered.
"Humiliating?" Hermione questioned. "We did this perfectly. He was congratulating us."
"I know that," he snapped.
She furrowed her brows. "I really think you need this elixir. In fact, you needed it quite some time ago."
He glared at her and she looked away, clearing the contents on the table. His chest pinched in irritation. "You know nothing about me, Granger. Don't you dare say what I need."
"I know enough."
His mouth lowered into a frown. He knew she was right. They may have not been friends, but they were classmates who saw a lot of each other. She probably knew as much about him as he does about her. And that was too much in his opinion.
The class went on, and Draco sat in his seat for the remaining ten minutes while Hermione went over to Potter and Weasley and attempted to fix what they did wrong to their potion, but she couldn't do much since Weasley put in an ingredient that wasn't even on the list for the potion. Not that Draco was watching the whole time and watched Hermione's every move.
Slughorn announced the end of class, which jolted Draco out of his observations. Their professor told the students who had successfully concocted their potions, including Draco and Hermione, that they could bring a vile of the potion with them. Draco refused, so Hermione took it. He left straight out the door and to the Slytherin common room. As he passed the corridor connecting to the one Annabelle lingered in, he spotted her light-blue form floating around. She caught sight of him before he could retreat.
"I don't want to talk to you," he said after she came up to him, and he noticed people walking around. He walked on, hoping that she would go away, but she followed him, regardless of the fact that people stopped and stared as soon as they saw her. He stopped and faced her. "Don't you have other places to be, like places with no people around?"
She looked around and saw the students walking by ogling her, mostly the boys. "I don't mind it much anymore, now that I'm comfortable talking with you now."
He walked on and she followed, on until he stood in front of his common room door. He stood a little away from it so people could go in. One boy whistled at her, and a group of girls going in had jealous looks on their faces. Why would they be jealous of him being in the company of a pretty ghost? She's a ghost, meaning she's not really there.
"Annabelle, leave me be, alright? I don't want to hear any more about that vision or Granger. Just... go."
She didn't budge. "Alright, I won't talk about it. So, that potion-making was quite entertaining."
"That's talking about Granger, you know."
"I suppose that's true. I bet it was torture for you."
"It was. The odds that we would be paired together, honestly..." he scoffed. He gave her a pointed look. "You didn't have anything to do with it, did you?"
"How could I? Literally can't touch anything since my hand goes right through things. It was meant to be, you two being paired together. You were meant to be for the past one-thousand years. Why do you think you happened to be the same year in school? There couldn't be a bond strong enough to sever your family traditions."
His heart pulsed, and he gave her a mean look. "I am not going to go against my family, and especially not with that mudblood! I can't even take standing next to her!"
Annabelle remained perfectly calm. "How about this, Draco—think of just getting along with her for now, or looking out for her from afar, even. I did say before that you have to protect her."
"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. I don't want anything more to do with that mudblood, your vision, or even you. So leave me the blood-hell alone!"
He went inside the door into the common room. He needs to study something. Quick. Anything to get his mind off of that beautiful girl. Actually, beautiful girls. The image of Hermione—a girl he never even wanted to share the same school with—smiling to her friend will never leave his memory.
Draco entered the corridor leading to the Great Hall the following morning. He spotted Crabbe and Goyle standing there at a corner, looking at and pointing a wand at something on the other side, sniggering. Draco walked up behind him. "Just what are you two are doing?" he asked in a stern voice, like a father to his children. The two large boys whirled around and saw Draco standing there, arms folded.
"Nothing," Crabbe quickly said, buy Goyle smacked his arm.
"It's not like he hasn't done it either," he said, and looked at Draco. "Granger's over in the other corridor. We were just having some fun."
That caused Draco's eyebrows to raise in interest, but interest in the fact that they were playing a trick on her. He walked around them and peeked from behind the corner. Hermione was quickly picking up her books, which were strewn all over the stone floor. Some were in shreds. He saw that she had tears in her eyes. He looked at his two henchmen, who were ginning evilly.
"Nice work. Now let's get to breakfast—I'm starving."
He left and the two followed him. Draco took one last look back at Hermione, who was met by her two guy-friends, and who were scrambling to clean things up and to comfort her. He turned back. He shouldn't care. He doesn't. Definitely not.
No matter how hard Draco tried not to, he couldn't help glancing over at Hermione in classes, at meals, or walking in the corridors. Of course he's seen her before, but now, he's more conscious of it, thanks to what Annabelle said. Even if what she said wasn't true and her vision really was just a dream that she had... a realistic one that he and Hermione were in, and she was able to recognize the both of them... he's still thinking about that mudblood girl.
On the way to Defense against the Dark Arts class, as he was walking on his own, he spotted Hermione doing the same thing. Where were her two boyfriends? He didn't care. He attempted to focus on other people walking by, and even looked out the windows at the clear sky, but he glanced back and noticed Hermione's head down in a book. Typical. She's been a book worm as long as she's been alive, most likely. He found himself smirking at that, but it faded when he saw a pillar in the direction she was heading. She would ram right into it if she didn't look up.
"No," Draco ordered himself, quietly. "It would be hilarious if she ran into it." In fact, before, he would use a charm on her that would make it so she would run into it, and he and his friends would have a good laugh as she would fall over and have a big goose-egg on her forehead for a week. That is, if she never used a healing charm, which she most likely would.
He watched her, and she wasn't putting her head up. He glanced at people around and saw they were totally oblivious to her walking right for a solid stone pillar in the open-air corridor. He huffed through his nose and looked away, and even walked farther away in the corridor, but he was still in view of her. She still wasn't looking up. His heart started pounding in agitation.
"Blymee, Granger," he said and pulled out his sleek, black wand. He muttered a spell as he pointed his wand at her, hidden by his robes, and Hermione's legs stopped instantly, as if instantly caught by something sticky on the floor, and she looked up in alarm.
"What the...?" she let out, then saw the pillar only a half-a-meter in front of her. Her eyes widened, then she looked around frantically. Draco hid himself behind another pillar. He muttered another spell and her legs were let loose. She almost toppled into the pillar from the resistance, but she caught herself. "Who...?" she said, looked around, then went on around the pillar, confusion in her features.
"Airhead..." Draco said. "Doesn't even watch where she's going."
He went on to class, and once there, he saw Hermione sit with her two guy-friends. He happened to catch their conversation as he sat at a table with Crabbe and Goyle, a table on the other side of the room as Hermione and her friends, but he had a good view of her.
"I was reading from the textbook when my legs suddenly stopped moving!" Hermione said. "Then I look up and find myself looking directly at a stone pillar. I would've ran into it if whoever that person was hadn't stopped me in my tracks using a halting spell." She eyed both of them. "It wasn't either of you two, was it?"
They shook their heads. "We were here early," Weasley said.
"Yeah," said Potter, then he smiled. "Someone's watching out for you, Hermione."
"And if they stopped you from ramming into a pillar, they're probably watching out for you a lot."
Draco felt his heart pound, and he really thought about what he had just done. He rescued Hermione from being hurt. He was actually watching out for her like Annabelle advised him to do. Now he's appalled at himself. He's going along with what Annabelle wanted him to do without realizing it, at least in the moment.
"Or it could've been some kind-hearted person who happened to see me in that second, and decided to stop me," Hermione said, and Draco frowned. Kind-hearted? Him? He's never been called such a thing. In fact, he never thought that it was in his character to be kind. Well, at least that's what he thinks now that he has thought about what kind of person he was in the past. Before, he thought himself a kind person, in the sense that he promised people money and other goods if they did what he wanted.
"I would like to thank whoever did that," Hermione continued.
"How're going to do that?" asked Weasley. "You have no idea who the person was."
She shot him a stern look. "I know that, Ronald, I'm just saying that I would like to thank him or her if I ever find out who they are."
Weasley was about to say something, but class began. Draco continued to look at the three friends, his eyebrows pushed together. There's no way Hermione's going to find out who rescued her from a bump on the head, and a nasty headache. The last thing he needs is for people to know that he's gone soft. He groaned under his breath. No. He has not gone soft.
Curse that ghost for putting unwanted thoughts into his head. But no matter what, what was said was said, and there is nothing he can do about it. Hermione and the images of them being together are permanently ingrained in his mind.