Beta'd by Maddiechu
The school seemed to burble like a new-born baby, as Draco and Hermione walked in an amicable silence towards the gryphon that heralded the entrance to the Head's office. Excited chatter followed them, their arms knocking together once in a while as they strode down the halls, giggles and shrieks echoing as the portraits pointed and whispered amongst themselves. Life had most definitely returned to Hogwarts.
The announcement that Draco had become the Head Boy of Hogwarts had been met with a deafening silence; the shock had clawed its way into the very core of the school, the air sucked out in an instant. Horrified, livid and terrified glances were shared between the students that had endured his tyranny the years before. Confused and betrayed expressions hung on the faces of the ones he'd ripped into the most; as if he were the vulture, and they were simply the liver he was due to collect each day. Hermione had looked to him the moment he had been announced; to her shock praying for him to not smirk, sneer, or look like he was to enjoy eviscerating those who dared to challenge him. When the eyes of the room had settled on his winter features, sharp and pointed like icicles – he'd smiled a slight upturn of his lips that had held no inch of malice. She'd sighed at his reaction; as relief poured on her. Ginny had nudged her, a warning expression on her summer touched features, and she realised she should be smiling and waving as the crowd seemed to be cheering for her. She'd been announced as Head Girl. The reaction of the school was if it were night and day.
Now, as they walked the halls together, just as the shock and acceptance of Malfoy as Head Boy had sunk in, the portraits tittered between themselves; hints of the tears that had been shed over it revealed.
"Did you see Lillian? Sobbed her heart out she did at him being Head Boy, apparently he levitated her into a toilet when she was in her second year."
"Robert had a fit."
"The Hufflepuff third year?"
"No, no, the Ravenclaw fifth year, he threw things all up and down the second floor corridor; screaming obscenities; all over the Malfoy boy."
"There he is! Do you think he'll be the worst Head Boy in Hogwarts history?"
They whispered; hissed, and muttered between themselves. Their painted eyes glimmering in the torch light; fingers pointing and mouths hidden as they chased them through portraits they didn't belong to. Draco walked with her, his back abnormally straight, his skin tinged grey once more. She longed to reach out, entwine her hand with his, but she couldn't.
They hadn't spoken since he'd kissed her.
The Head's office began to loom as a pair of Gryffindor third years turned the corner, and took one look at them approaching, swiftly turning on their heel as if they'd been struck by lightning and going back the way they'd come. A stab of pain struck through Hermione as she realised they'd been of her own house, and had chosen to avoid her coming, until Draco sighed beside her. With shame, she realised it was him they'd wanted to escape, not her. Not Hermione Granger the War-Heroine.
The Gryphon seemed to shift the moment they came into its view, as if it had been expecting them. It twirled about as McGonagall's withering features opposite to her iron like posture stepped forward; an expression of wariness upon her wrinkled face as they stepped forward.
"Excellent," she greeted, stepping to the side and gesturing to them with a sweep of her arm to step on to the staircase, "I was about to summon for you two." She admitted, as Hermione smothered the wave of embarrassment at possibly being late for her first meeting as Head Girl with the Head Mistress.
:: :: ::
"Events?" Hermione repeated dumbly, as if she said the word again; sense would be knocked into her and it would all be a wonderful dream she had just experienced.
"Yes; events, things to encourage house unity and to forge new friendships. The best way to do this is to hold events that everyone can relate to and experience." McGonagall replied, a matter of fact, as if Hermione weren't gaping at her with her eyes slightly glassy. Draco was picking the parchment McGonagall had just pushed forward to them each with a raised brow and twisted mouth; his expression unreadable.
"I refuse to have a Valentine's day event like the one we had with Lockhart here." He drawled, raising his wintery eyes to McGonagall with a look of disdain.
"As do I; I am sure you and your prefects can think of something that will be much more appropriate." McGonagall replied as Hermione picked her parchment up, scanning it with a look of mixed delight and horror.
"Oh! Fireworks night for the fifth of November!" She gasped, giggling with joy. "Muggle traditions at Hogwarts?"
"Best to attempt to fix all kinds of rifts, not just Hogwarts housing."
"I can organise this one! Definitely, I can talk to Hagrid; will we be allowed a bonfire? We have to have a bonfire. Getting sweets won't be any issue; I assume we'll have some left over from the Halloween event you've got written here. Oh and mulled wine time! Oh…no, it's a school…but we can definitely have mulled apple juice and cinnamon as we watch the fireworks!" Hermione's eyes were bright and alight with her own sort of fireworks, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she grinned at an astonished and confused Draco, and an amused looking McGonagall.
"Yes, you will be allowed a bonfire; I suggest talking to Hagrid as soon as you can about it."
"I'll write to George, he can donate some fireworks for us to use, and we can raise some cash from the students to buy more…" Hermione babbled, pulling a scroll of parchment out her bag, and wetting her quill in some ink as she began to use McGonagall's desk for her own purposes. McGonagall raised her eyebrows, impressed with the speed in which Hermione was already planning an event two months away. A letter to George in the process of being penned, her lips silently carving out more plans to the air in front of her.
"The staff shall organise the victory dance, but I suggest you delegate a different house an event to plan, the prefects of that House in charge. They must come to you to approve all plans, and anything you are not sure of, come see me." McGonagall was saying as Hermione signed her letter off with a beam.
"Give the Slytherins the Halloween event." Draco smiled with a devious glitter to his silver eyes, and McGonagall's face hardened instantly.
"If last year had never happened Mr Malfoy, I would have done so, but now giving the house of Slytherin an event based in terror would not be a good idea. I suggest the Hufflepuff house organise that particular event. They have never been one to shy away from some fun, and give the Slytherin house another event." McGonagall said sternly, and Draco greyed at her words, his hand clenching the fabric of his robes out of her sight. He swallowed, accepting and not challenging her in the slightest, the truth in her words stinging as they hit his ears. Hermione looked at him, blushing a little as she looked at the rest of the list. She'd pounced upon the fireworks event, and had already most of it sorted in her mind.
"I think the Slytherin's should have the secret santa event, give them a reputation of being giving and kind and fun." Hermione said quietly as Draco's knuckles whitened on his robes, his eyes glued to the parchment in front of him.
"Then the Ravenclaws should get the Easter Egg hunt, and the Gryffindors the Valentines event." He decided, as Hermione inwardly picked her battles, wishing the Gryffindors had the egg hunt instead of the Ravenclaws, knowing the eggs would most likely be stashed in difficult hiding places and found years later.
"Sounds like you have it all planned," McGonagall said, watching her two Head's nod to each other and themselves. "I'd get to calling a prefects meeting if I were you, and Hermione, plan the fireworks event fast. It will come sooner than you think with this year being N.E.W.T year." McGonagall gently reminded her as Draco stood up abruptly, his face impassive, the parchment being stowed away in his bag.
"I will," Hermione smiled, standing to leave with Draco as he looked to her expectantly.
"Good, best of luck the pair of you," McGonagall said, dismissing them with a fond smile, and an expectant glance at Draco.
Hermione and Draco left, stepping onto the moving staircase as it shuddered to life in the awkward way it did, and as the door to the office shut behind them, Draco cleared his throat.
"You're going to the dance with me." He told her, looking dead ahead and as if he hadn't just told her what she'd be doing with her time. She fought back a smile, and kept her eyes forward, mirroring his stance.
"Well it's not like I'm going to go with McLaggen." She joked, as Draco looked confused, his mouth parting to challenge her as she sighed. "I'm accepting your demand Draco, not challenging it."
He closed his mouth and smirked at her, his silvery eyes sparkling at her. The end of the stairs was coming closer, and he swiftly closed the gap between them; pressing his lips to her forehead.
"I'll see you in Potions, if not before then," he murmured, stepping back as the Gryphon began to spin with a crunching announcement of its plans to move.
"Yeah," Hermione breathed, suddenly at a loss to think. She blinked rapidly, willing sense into herself, as thoughts of the kiss they'd shared began to return to her. Her lips parting in anticipation, as if he'd kiss her again. She wanted to talk to him about it, see where they stood, ask him…ask him if he'd kiss her again. She turned to speak to him, as the Gryphon stopped moving, and he swept past her, heading towards the library with his cat like gait. She sighed, and headed towards the owlery at a fast pace, hoping she could meet Hagrid and put a note up on the common room notice board before Potions.
:: :: ::
"Let us…let us make things…interesting." Slughorn was saying, rubbing the palms of his hands together as he stared at the group he would be teaching, he'd gathered them up at the front of the classroom; banning them from taking a partner and a seat in an unexpected move. "You're an odd number, so we're going to have to have one three, so we'll have to shake things up anyway…it's not until next term you need to work solo…" Slughorn seemed to be talking to himself, his eyes roaming over the students absently, as he ignored the faint hisses and pops from the cauldrons at the front of the class, the heady aromas they were emitting making Hermione feel oddly light; as if there were simply no weight to her head, and her shoulders were pulling her down. The eighth years huddled together, as if for protection; Parvarti linking her arms with hers and Padma's the moment she'd heard Slughorn mention a group of three. She stepped slightly closer to Parvarti in a friendly way, remembering the letter the girl had sent her over the holidays, and the effort the pair of them had put in into making a genuine friendship.
"Yes, yes…I think…Miss Greengrass, with Mr…Thomas please." He finally announced, and the whole class jumped, looking to one another as if they would receive some sort of support for doing so. Daphne's shoulders slumped, and she stepped forward, heading towards the table at the front of the class Slughorn was pointing at, as Dean looked as though he was beside himself with luck.
"Mr Finnegan with…Miss Abbott, Miss..oh two Patil's, of course…Miss Padma with Mr Finnegan, Miss Parvarti with Mr Zabini." He began to list off, as students nodded to one another amicably, Parvarti giving Blaise a wary look as they went to their designated table. Slughorns' eyes somehow began to hold more weight to them than his incredible stomach, his lips pursing slightly as he pondered the make-up of his pairings. "I think we shall have…Miss Parkinson with…"
"Malfoy," she said, turning her pug nose up into the air as she looked at the rest of the group, only the remaining Slytherins safe from the wrath of her glare. Slughorn turned to look at her, his smile slightly lopsided and apologetic.
"I think Mr Corner." He said, as he raised his brows as if he'd realised he'd not paired up the two heads yet. A curious, almost interested flicker of emotion passed over his face as his gaze lingered on Hermione. Dread began to engulf her, and she battled attempting to not show it on her face. "I wonder…how well do our two very different heads work together…" he mused, seemingly unaware he was doing it aloud and Pansy gave a shriek of horror as Draco attempted to look as though he wasn't interested. Hermione bit her lip as Pansy began to wail, and both Seamus and Dean began to snigger loudly.
"You can't!" Pansy cried, pulling at her hair and resting her elbows on the wood of the desk in an overly dramatic way, so much so that Daphne deliberately turned to look in another direction to hide her sniggers; despite being behind Pansy's pug eyed gaze.
"He caaaaannn!" Draco wailed, imitating Pansy to a key unexpectedly. His long, elegant fingers were in his hair, his palms dragging his cheeks down so he looked as if he had jowls, his eyes rolling into the top of his head. His voice high pitched; mocking. Hermione gasped as the other houses fell quiet, only the Slytherin's roared with laughter. It was a strange turn of events, Draco mocking members of his own house; something he'd never done before. Judging by the reactions of the Slytherins, they were used to it, perhaps in a different way, without the spite and malice; but the other houses stared in wonder. Awed by him.
"Draco!" Pansy shrieked as if she were a toddler put in a time out, behaviour also not one often demonstrated to the other houses. The mirth in the room had begun to fizzle out, and a shocked observing blanket had settled over the play the Slytherins were putting on; watching the Slytherins unravel was oddly disconcerting. "You're supposed to be my partner!" Pansy continued, stamping her foot as Slughorn sighed and stepped forward.
"I suppose I was…a fool for expecting better behaviour of my house," He began, a glassy expression drifting over his features, making Hermione think he wasn't quite talking about the current situation. "Miss Parkinson, you will be with Mr Corner and Mr Nott, and ten points from Slytherin for your behaviour; you're an adult now, please behave like one. Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy, I expect team work from you two." He dismissed them, cutting the drama short with his blunt words, and waving them off to their tables.
Joy exploded within Hermione as she walked to the last remaining table, sliding her bag under the desk and sitting on the stool as she bent down to retrieve her book, parchment and writing equipment. Draco copied, looking disinterested as usual as Slughorn waddled his way behind the potions, their fumes still wafting over the room, a peachy smell now becoming evident. He clapped his hands together as the class continued to shuffle, settling themselves in for the two hours of potions, waiting for the silence that was expected.
"We shall be working on antidotes this lesson," He began pulling a small bottle from his robe pocket and showing it to the class. "Whoever does the best, shall win this little bottle of Felix Felicis! Or two, or possibly three, given we are in groups!" He corrected himself, pulling another little vial from his pocket with a cheeky glimmer in his eye. Hermione inwardly groaned, thinking of all the trouble that silly little bottle Harry had won had got her into, but with a begrudging amount of respect she admitted it had been an excellent motivator. Slughorn heaved himself around the table with the cauldrons on, and peered up at the now interested class once more, and Hermione leant forward in her seat a bit remembering what was coming.
"Antidotes can be incredibly difficult to brew, and very dangerous potions indeed should something go wrong when they are made." He began, as Draco's hand began to rest upon her knee. She stiffened with shock, sliding her eyes to the side to look at his bored expression, as if he were doing absolutely nothing wrong what so ever. She swallowed, and in retaliation, pressed her leg against his, smothering the joy the contact gave her as she did so. "Can anybody tell me which antidote this one is?" Slughorn was now saying, casually wafting his hand over the fumes so they could each take in a deep breath of it.
It stank of rotten vegetables, left to ferment in the sun, and the faint blue smoke it emitted misted over its royal blue hue. A memory stirred in the back of her mind, a conversation shared eons ago, when childhood thoughts of teachers possibly poisoning one another was a genuine possibility; and not the fantasy it should have been. She bit her lip, and let her hand rest upon Draco's as he squeezed her knee; her other hand going up into the air.
"Ah, Miss Granger," Slughorn acknowledged as Pansy rolled her eyes.
"It's Wolfsbane," she told him; her voice cracking as she thought of Lupin, and the third year that had been so very life changing for her. The real turn in what it truly meant to be to be a friend of Harry Potter. Draco's fingers were now rubbing her knee gently, as if he had sensed something was wrong and upsetting her, and she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb; wondering what on earth they were doing. Wondering what they were.
"Very good, ten points to Gryffindor," Slughorn said, before telling the rest of the class just how truly difficult the potion was to master, and that it was almost impossible to make; the fact it had been created at all was a wonder in itself. He shuffled to the next steaming potion, a clear liquid that had a peachy aroma too it, one that Padma identified as being the antidote to love potion. A fact that went right over her head, as under the desk Draco had her hand clasped within his.
They needed to talk about their kiss, the constant contact they seemed to be sharing, or in her own case longing for. They needed to talk.
"Yes, yes, very good Mr Macmillan, it is indeed a memory potion; very good in helping someone remember," Slughorn was saying. Hermione's heart fell out of her chest, leaving a bloody mess on the floor beneath her, the stonework becoming suddenly drenched in her tears. Draco's hand suddenly left hers, and she gasped.
"Miss Granger…is…oh!" Slughorn said, noting her tearful expression. Draco was digging about in his bag, until he came up again, a perfectly clean handkerchief in his hand. He offered it to her, concern and sheer curiosity in his expression as he met her eyes. She took it, smiling in thanks as she turned back to the now completely silent class.
"Yes, yes, sorry; I'm perfectly ok, just…bad memories." She explained with an awful joke, thinking of her parents in Australia, the auror team that would be sent out to get them, and the dreadful amount of that potion they may be forced to swallow should they return.
"Ah, yes…understandable." Slughorn nodded, looking awkward and pained as Pansy looked as though Christmas had come early. Hermione dabbed at her eyes as Draco leaned towards her, keeping his voice low.
"Are you honestly alright?" He asked her, his breath warm against her neck, sending the hairs on her arms up into goosebumps.
"Yes, I am, I'll explain…later." She said to him, as Slughorn began to flick open the text book.
"You will be working on the potion for dreamless sleep; you have all lesson. You may begin!" Slughorn announced, as conversation exploded between partners choosing who would do what.
"Sit here, I'll get everything we need." Draco said to her, watching her catch the remaining tears with his handkerchief; she blushed and nodded as a sinking, almost angry memory bubbled to the surface again. She flipped open her book, looking at the recipe and scrutinising every instruction with a borderline angry eye. The page was clean, clear from any scrawls that had been added in previous years, as her copy was new; fresh from the press. Only, why were these instructions telling them to do it one way; if there were clearly better ways of doing things, as Harry's soaring marks in potions had proved during their sixth year. She glowered, quietly scowling at the instructions as Draco dumped a load of ingredients beside her with a loud thud; the glass jars slamming on the wood.
"You look mad." He commented dryly, organising the ingredients into order of use, something Hermione had never done before, and her surprise at something so obvious made her falter slightly.
"Not mad just…" she sighed, "look, this may sound utterly insane, but last year…ok no, sixth year Harry suddenly got really good at potions; like, really good." She began, as Draco looked at her curiously, setting a mild flame underneath their cauldron and noting down the time he did it. "It was because someone had annotated his copy of the potions book with all these little bits that should have actually been in the instructions. It just irritates me that we were given these text books, but there is a much more efficient way of doing things that isn't in the book. Why is that? Sure these instructions will get us there eventually, but there is a better way of doing things." Draco was staring at her with a bewildered, almost stunned expression that bordered in mirth.
"You…you mean to tell me you have always done things in class to the book?" He asked her, his eyes wide as he began to shred a mushroom instead of slice it, causing Hermione to stare at him with pent up irritation.
"Well of course I have!" She exclaimed, "It's in the instructions!"
"You never once experimented?"
"No!"
"I suppose that explains why you always do so well." He mused as Hermione began to measure out exactly how much belladonna fluids they'd need.
"Doesn't explain you though, your marks have always been high, and you don't have the whole following instructions thing down." She commented dryly, pointing to the instruction where it said to keep the mushrooms thinly sliced, not shred into small pieces like Draco had done, and was continuing to do with expert strokes of his knife. He threw her a grin, his teeth bright and white against his pale skin, his silvery eyes glittering with mirth as he nodded to his own book.
"I love potions, it's my best subject. Malfoy's don't have to work for a living; I planned to leave Hogwarts and then re-write all the known potions books into doing exactly what you just said. Perhaps create a few more. I've spent time on this, discovering better ways to make each and every potion; I've got a few potions into our first year book, I just have to re-write them now." He admitted as Hermione gaped at him.
:: :: ::
Their sitting room was dark, the faint flickering of candles the only light as the clouds passed over the moon, blocking the moonlight from entering. They were both at their desks, scratching away at the homework from the day. The report on their partner for potions and how well they'd worked together being easier than expected, and her vial of luck potion sitting pride of place by her quills.
She glanced at him, pausing as she dipped her quill in ink. There was no risk with Draco, she decided, unlike Ron, where she stood to lose just so much if they stumbled and failed in their relationship. Draco had no previous friendship with her, no pleasant history to throw away, no family ties. He was clever, ambitious, and he thrilled her in a way she'd never experienced before. She had a crush on him, she would admit that; but the idea of actually being with him scared her.
She wanted it.
She wanted him.
She finished off her report, rolling it up as the ink dried and tucking it away in the cubby hole under her desk, and pulling a fresh sheet of parchment to start on the planning of the fireworks display, making a note to set up a little dish with a sign in the entrance hall to collect money for fireworks.