It was the scent of parchment and ink that intrigued Hermione Granger the most for the past seventeen years. Not even the aroma of her favorite chamomile tea could persuade the excitement she felt upon attacking a fresh roll of parchment with the finest quills. And not too long ago, at Scribbulus Writing Instruments, had she invested in the silkiest of quills she's ever laid her hands on. It was only fitting for the occasion to embarque her sixth year at Hogwarts.

Hermione was fully aware that this year would spark indifference among the rest. For starters, similar to Harry and Ron, she was growing up. And felt the need to invest in other items that would make her just as mature. She hadn't got the chance to spend her teen years pampering herself like most girls her age. Merely because of the fact of who she is. She didn't own the title 'Brightest Witch of Her Age' by worrying about her untamed hair that often bothered her while she spent countless hours studying. Or about her plain lips, which lacked attention due to their drought of color and shine. And her nails that she bit on, were never properly shaped and polished as they should've been. Besides that, being Harry Potter's best friend, well that should be something entirely on its own.

"Welcome dearie." The old woman at the front of the shop called as soon as the brunette stepped into Lady Elicere's Scent Shop.

Replying with a sweet nod, Hermione knew to avoid the sugary scents that were far too sweet for her liking. And partially because she had spotted Lavender Brown down the same aisle of 'Chocolate Bonfire' and 'Jelly Cane Pie.'

All summer, Ron had talked of Lavender Brown and the not-so-secretive crush the blonde girl had on her best friend. How could Ron talk so ill of Lavender and her qualities yet find her attraction towards him, tempting? Not only frustrating Hermione, but it triggered her unkempt crush on the most oblivious red-head on earth.

Comparing herself to Lavender Brown gave Hermione all the more reason to fully pamper herself this year.

Her hands fondled the bottle of 'Vanilla Vodka.' The pairing of sugar and sharp was irritating to her for some unknown reason. Nonetheless, she spent a few minutes debating between three tea leaf scents while keeping a close watch on Lavender Brown.

The blonde girl had just finished getting rung up before Hermione unbent her knees from a squat hiding her from Lavender beneath the shelves of the shop.

But as her eyes did not dare to leave her annoying classmate until she was out the door, the brunette failed to acknowledge her quiet moving feet. She collided with a thin back and caused the bottles in her hands to fall along with the unknown woman's items in front of her.

Immediately, Hermione bent down to collect the fallen perfume bottles, "My apologies, I wasn't aware of-"

She stopped dead in her tracks as she handed the unfamiliar bottle to familiar black eyes.

Well, not so familiar considering she had only encountered Narcissa Malfoy scarcely. The elder woman stared at Hermione with a blank expression before softly retrieving the bottle from Hermione's hands. "Of my surroundings. Forgive me." Hermione finally managed to get out. Both women straightened up awkwardly.

Of course, Hermione was aware of the witch's family status upon the arrest of her husband Lucius. Whom Hermione faced last semester in the Ministry. It was silent between them for a minute or so. Hermione debated on whether to walk away and leave the shop without purchasing anything.

Before Narcissa spoke up.

"Do be more careful of your surroundings Ms. Granger."

Hermione pondered over the older woman's facial expressions. It had softened yet her eyes were still blank.

"Now more than ever."

"Pardon?" Her breath was rushed. Was that a threat? Hermione swallowed before gripping the bottles tighter. She had every right to fear Narcissa. Afterall, she was blood-related to the most psychotic witch of all time.

Narcissa softened once more. "A young woman of such your age shouldn't be alone at this hour." Hermione loosened the grip on her bottles. "There are many things just waiting to happen. Especially considering," She looked at the younger witch from head to toe. "Your status."

The word status rolled off of Narcissa's tongue less of a compliment and more of an insult, referring to Hermione's status.

And before she could react. "Enjoy the rest of your evening Ms. Granger."

Hermione sharply inhaled. It was no secret that the Malfoys were pureblood supremacists. But she was hoping Narcissa was a bit more pleasant than her husband and son.

And she wasn't going to let that slide anymore. But before she could march right up to Narcissa who was currently at the front paying for the perfumes that Hermione had knocked over, there was already a ruckus that fumed over the countertop.

Narcissa chuckled. "What is the meaning of this? Am I prohibited from purchasing a few scents? Overpriced ones of that."

She emphasized the last bit, clutching her purse close to her.

Lady Elicere frowned. "Ms. Malfoy. Please. I don't want to do this."

Narcissa's cherry lips frowned.

"I'm quite confident that you have the means to pay, however," Lady Elicere paused before leaning forward.

"I can not offer my business to a mistress of controversy."

It was silent for a moment, Narcissa's hopeful eyes soon anguished and glared at Lady Elicere with such distaste before she looked down and adjusted her fitted black glove.

Clearing her throat and patting the side of her head, Narcissa left the shop, without another word.

Leaving Hermione speechless.


It was already half-past seven. And the trio, along with the rest of the Weasleys, sat at the Leaky Cauldron, just finishing up their dinner.

"I'm telling you, Hermione, I'm fine," Harry complained.

Of course, she was worried. Harry had just recently lost Sirius. And as happy as she was seeing him back to his normal and happy self, it only worried her furthermore. You-Know-Who was back. And everyone knew. And of all the times Harry could act normal, like a regular teenage boy.

"I know Harry but-"

"I've had the summer, Mione. I can't spend any more time dwelling on it."

Hermione opened her mouth to reject it again.

"You should know by now that I am used to death."

A cold shutter engulfed her.

No one should be used to that feeling. Hermione couldn't help but feel more empathetic towards Harry. She offered her arm around his shoulders as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

It was casually loud in the Leaky Cauldron yet in the tiny corner where she and Harry sat, things couldn't have been more silent.

"He was the only family you had left Harry."

"I've got you and Ron." Harry brought his arms to enclose Hermione.

She felt Harry's chin press against the top of her scalp. "And the Weasley's."

Hermione glanced at the red-haired bunch who were spread out in the pub. Ron was complaining to his mum. Probably about how the twins gave Ginny her items from the joke shop for free whilst he had to pay full price.

The two let out a giggle as soon as Molly verbally attacked the twins with both hands on her hips, Ron cowering behind her while instigating the situation.

"And I've got Hogwarts."

"But with Voldemort back." Hermione created a bridge that distanced her and Harry.

Harry sighed. "We're protected. At Hogwarts. Dumbledore's back and we've got The Order." The boy looked back at Hermione.

What she thought was going to be a hopeful speech coming from Harry was the complete opposite. In those green eyes, Harry tried to find the right words to phrase what he was about to say, she could see it. Sense it. The glimmer in his eyes, the green orbs with so much fight in them. They were exhausted.

"Well erm- we should just focus on our sixth year. Only two more to go right?"

And for once, Hermione had regretted being right. Sirius' death was much more impactful on Harry than she assumed. Never once in their schooling did Harry Potter care to focus. And to what, the year confirming the definite return of the dark lord?

Was he giving up?

She wanted to say something but looking again into Harry's eyes, she felt pity. He couldn't be blamed, after all, he's been through.

"Right, Harry."

Harry only smiled at her, causing Hermione's lips to upturn.

"He's being ridiculous!" Ginny Weasley plopped next to Hermione, her hands pushing on her scalp.

Hermione giggled and turned away from Harry to look at Ginny. "What's the matter, Gin?"

"Ron's gotten mad over ten galleons! He wants me to pay the ten to Fred and George to make him feel better? Unbelievable!" Ginny let out a frustrated sigh.

Hermione turned to Harry who was just as amused at the sibling altercation. Nothing like a feud between the Weasley siblings couldn't brighten the atmosphere.

Ginny looked at the boy with jet hair. "Harry, you're rich. Want to spare ten galleons for that best friend of yours? So he could finally get off my back?"

Harry lifted his hands in the air in defense and pressed his lips into a thin line before releasing a laugh. "I will not be a part of this Ginny."

He walked past the two girls and neared his other best friend who was still bickering with the twins.

"Shall we head up to my parlor? I want to see the items you've fetched from the alley." Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded and the two girls chatted on their way up to the private rooms of the inns. This year, the Weasleys had rented several rooms in the parlor to witness the opening of Fred and George's joke shop before Ron and Ginny had to depart for Hogwarts.

Hermione had left all her shopping bags in Ginny's room right before dinner. She walked over to the end of the bed and sat at the trunk as Ginny collapsed onto her bed.

Hermione lifted the bags, while properly organizing them to show Ginny.

"You went to Lady Elicere's Scent Shop?" The younger girl exclaimed.

Hermione nodded as Ginny inspected the scents she had purchased. "You seem surprised."

"I just cannot fathom the fact that you decide to purchase witch scents. You always preferred muggle perfume."

"I ran into Narcissa Malfoy there."

Ginny froze. Her nose was close to the perfume bottles which she stole from Hermione's hands, but her eyes immediately darted to the brunette.

"I'm assuming that interaction wasn't pleasant." Ginny shook her head whilst Hermione folded her new robes back into her bag.

Hermione watched the streaks of black and silver wisp away from the shop as soon as the bell rang, indicating the exit of Narcissa Malfoy.

"The nerve of that woman." Hermione heard Lady Elicere mutter as she placed her bottles on the shop's counter.

The frail older woman hunched over the counter while wrapping the perfume bottles, still gazing outside of the shop's window. Hermione's eyes darted to the two bottles left to the side. Magnolia scents. And probably the most expensive ones in the shops.

"4 Galleons, dearie."

Darting her attention back to Lady Elicere, Hermione pressed her lips into one thin line before smiling. "I'd like to purchase those two scents as well."

And amidst the puzzling expression on Lady Elicere's face, the teenage girl had walked out of the shop with 24 Galleons less than she came in with.

She searched the almost empty streets of Diagon Alley and easily spotted the older Malfoy waiting nearby an abandoned shop next to a dingy alleyway.

Strange, she thought to herself. Nonetheless, Hermione kept her chin up high as she approached Narcissa. She fished out the carefully wrapped bottles from her bag with a smug look on her face.

"What are you trying to prove, Ms. Granger?" Narcissa scoffed. She tightened her gloves as she clutched her purse tighter to her than ever.

Hermione did not move one inch. "No matter how dirty you ought to believe my blood is, I have privileges you and your family have lost." Her chocolate eyes lowered to the perfume bottles and she extended her hand out to Narcissa. The older witch stared at the products that were in her hands moments before she was dismissed from the shop. Hermione trailed her eyes back to Narcissa who only puckered her face in complete sourness. "Respect."

Narcissa let out a sarcastic chuckle. "As If I were to accept an offering from your tainted hands?" The blonde witch shifted in her heels and trailed her hands among the pearl necklace that sat at the surface of her collar bone. "I will never turn to desperation in times of rejection. Though I am sure you muggles are used to that ideology."

Hermione was having second thoughts. Why on earth did she think it would be a good idea to stand up to a woman like Narcissa Malfoy? It would only spark more anger and frustration to spare a conversation with someone of such entitlement. But as she glared at Narcissa, she studied the softness of her facial features she was reminded of in the shop. It was very much different from her husband's and her son's. And Hermione remembered why she was urged to talk to Narcissa in the first place.

"No, Mrs. Malfoy. We muggles," She paused for emphasis, knowing the importance behind her words, "are more fond of another ideology." Hermione, knowing that Narcissa was never going to take the bottles from her hands, set them beside the older woman. Just next to the shiny black heels that stood solid in their place. She bent back up and frowned. "Pity."

Uninterested in the conversation, Hermione turned in the direction and began making her way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Although she did not feel any better about herself, she was glad that she did not back down from standing up for herself.

And even though she felt Mrs. Malfoy's dark eyes glaring at the back of her head, Hermione completely missed something much more malicious than the scent of magnolias.

Gray orbs, almost silver, watched from the shadows.

His figure slowly approached the older woman and before Narcissa could catch the boy's hand on the back of her spine, protectively holding her, she felt no need to bother her glare at the brunette witch. Her son's eyes were filled with enough hatred for both of them.

"I wonder how Malfoy is taking it." Hermione looked at Ginny who stared at the corner of the room. "It must be a big blow to his ego."

Hermione stopped what she was doing to think. To think about her school bully and his taunting and immature remarks that went on for the past six years. Draco Malfoy was nothing but a jealous brat in her eyes. Despite being her best friend's nemesis and the bane of her endless torture during their schooling, the blonde boy was nothing but harmless. And with no father to hide behind, how would he live up to his name?

Sure she had seen him plastered on every single page of the daily prophet. He had changed. Drastically. More or less, like her and her best friends, Malfoy had matured. From the pages, he looked taller, thin but with a bulkier frame. His hair wasn't slicked to his head anymore. It was shorter and pushed back, effortlessly. But his face.

His eyes were darker and it didn't help that he had even darker circles running below them. He no longer wore an amusing plastic smirk on his face. At least in the papers. He was blank and numb. Unreadable.

"Mione."

Ginny snapped Hermione back into the conversation. "What's the matter?"

The brunette witch simply smiled while collecting her closing thoughts on the blonde boy. "Nothing, Ginny."

It was no doubt to Hermione Granger that this year would be different.


"Draco."

She called out to him again when he didn't turn to look at her. Her dark eyes tried to keep up with the back of her son. Fortunately for her, his head of hair was easy to spot in the dark alleys. Ironically, it was similar to a bulb of light.

Narcissa Malfoy grew desperate and her heels grew tired as they tried to keep up with her son. "Draco!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, allowing his mother to bridge the distance between them. Narcissa still faced his back. She grasped her son's arm and approached him slowly. "Are you sure you are ready?"

He clenched his jaw and looked down at his ring. The Malfoy family crest shined in the moonlight. He had adored the ring ever since it was gifted to him and the crest was in his honor a flaunt he was proud to own. His blood was the purest of them all and the legacy family he was born into was nothing more but power at his birthright.

But as of earlier this year, Draco Malfoy and his views had shifted. Including his admiration, he held so high up for his father. The man that brought him into this world, the man who raised his core beliefs and philosophical views, the man that favored every bitter gift and spoiling. The man who now sat in Azkaban.

This summer was nothing less than flying into the deepest of oceans without any light to guide the journey. Or hellride he presumed. There was never a moment in Draco Malfoy's life where he wasn't cradled by the security of his father's titles, his earnings, his legacy.

His cronies, ever loyal by his side, showed nothing but pity to their superior, only making the blonde boy feel nothing but inferior. And the last thing he needed, was a muggle-born witch, one who was responsible for his father's imprisonment, to pity his mother.

"Dare you doubt me, mother?" His voice was innocent-like, childish almost. He slowly turned around to face Narcissa. She had nothing but concern in her eyes. Her son was her prized possession, and believe it when she vowed to do anything to keep Draco Malfoy safe.

She was a smart woman who held her place in pureblood society with pristine. Her devotion to her husband remained envious and desirable to any witch and wizard. But it was the love for her son that kept Narcissa Malfoy faithful to the dark lord. With her husband's imprisonment, he was now more bluntly harsh towards the mother and son duo.

It almost killed Narcissa when the task requested by the dark lord left his cold lips as Draco stood in front of him. It was just as painful as witnessing the dark mark crucifying over the fair skin she bore on her seventeen-year-old boy. But he had changed, Draco. There was something rotten growing inside ever since Lucius' capture. And although she had begged to her lord, to her sister, and to the boy who was no longer her innocent baby, that stood right in front of her. She knew better than to question her blonde heir any further.

Her hand came up to brush his cheek. "You're my son." Draco didn't flinch from his mother's touch nor was he ashamed of it. "I will always be by your side, Draco."

The older woman furrowed her eyebrows, it was concern and dread for what was about to take part this year. She was nothing but a distraught mother. But it was the touch of her son, when his hand caressed that of hers placed on his cheek. She felt nothing but discouraged.

Hoping to seek warmth, she found only ice.

"As will I, mother." Narcissa dropped her hand from his cheek and her eyes desperately searched her son's blank face. Draco's eyes darted to her purse which she held tightly by her side.

Without warning, he snatched the two bottles from her bag and brought it before them. Narcissa gasped and held her hand close to her chest, her eyes flickering back and forth between her son and the perfume bottles.

"Do you miss him?" Draco glued his eyes on the bottles, slightly juggling them in his big hand. Narcissa sighed.

"Of course I do."

"Well then,"

The bottles smashed right in front of them after Draco tossed them aside. He earned a gasp from his mother who flinched once the boy took another step towards her, his shoe cracking the glass that was already shattered.

"Stick to your morals." He sneered at her. "Don't let filth lurk beneath your fingernails." It was silent between them before the blonde boy turned on his heel and started walking away into the darkness.

"Better use to chop them off, right?" His chuckle rang through the tunnels, terrifying the older Malfoy. Her chest heaving up and down and her eyes flickering back to the magnolia liquid, splattered on the pavement.