A/N: I do not own anything in this story except the plot.
I would like to thank Erica X Lea and Alcapacien for being the first ones to review my story, I hope you continue to enjoy it! Everyone, please continue to R&R cause I love hearing your opinions and knowing if you like the story or not.
Chapter 3: The Potions Project
At their next potions class, Hermione and Draco had agreed to meet in the library at 8:00 on Thursday evening. Neither was looking forward to this meeting, but both were determined to get top marks in the class. Draco especially since Snape was his head of house, and he didn't want to disappoint him. Draco was already there reading a book by the time Hermione arrived. She paused when she saw him, surprised to see him there earlier than her. For a moment she merely watched him reading, he looked very different when he was not smirking. He actually looked really good, the way his brow was furrowed in concentration, and the way his platinum locks fell perfectly next to his eyes, framing his face wonderfully. And his eyes, his steel gray eyes had always intrigued her, even when they were looking upon her with unmatched hatred; to her his eyes seemed like a raging storm. Hermione's gaze subconsciously traveled down the length of his body, even through his robes, she could tell he was extremely well built. Quidditch training had obviously done him well; she was surprised she had never noticed before.
An angry voice interrupted her little examination of the finer points of Draco's physique "Granger, I know I'm irresistibly good looking, but the sooner we start this thing, the less time we have to spend with each other, so if you don't mind, stop gawking and get to work," Draco spat in an annoyed tone.
Hermione was thrown back into reality with a jolt, he hadn't looked up from his reading or anything, how did he know she was there? "Yeah right Malfoy, like I would want to look at your ugly face any more than I have to," retorted Hermione, blushing slightly at the face that she had in fact been checking him out. She was mad at herself for doing it, and she kicked herself because she had actually liked what she saw. She sat down across from him and rummaged through her bag for parchment and a quill. "Ok, first we need to do some research on this revival drought, it's supposed to be extremely advanced and difficult, so I expect we'll have to look through the older and difficult books.
Draco threw his head back and took a bored sounding breath, "the revival draught is the one potion in the world known to be able to cure people who are between life and death, people whose souls have already begun to leave the body and travel beyond or become ghosts. If administered quickly enough, it cures even the most fatal wounds. It also has the power to remove deadly poisons from a person's body. It is called the revival drought because it is used on people who are seemingly already dead, therefore, it revives them." He spoke as if this was the most obvious and boring information in the world, and didn't even stop to look at her.
Hermione sat in awe through Draco's speech, "How did you know that?"
Draco settled himself lazily into the seat across from her with an arrogant look on his face, "I did a little research on it." He motioned to the book he had been reading, "I always like to be prepared." He smirked at her, obviously pleased at himself for knowing something Hermione didn't.
Hermione scoffed, "Don't think that you're something just because you memorized a paragraph of a book Malfoy. This potion's going to be much harder than that."
Draco started and leaned across the desk toward Hermione, the close proximity between them scared her slightly. "Listen Granger, I will not be spoken to like that by some filthy stinking mudblood like you!"
Hermione backed away when Draco approached her, but her face was determined to show no fear. Anger swelled up inside her as he spoke, and she was about to retort when Madame Pince, the librarian, came up to them. "Is there a problem here?"
"Not at all," replied Draco smoothly.
"Then I suggest you keep your voices down unless you want to be kicked out."
"No need, we were finished here anyway," and with that Draco stalked off without a glance at Hermione.
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Hermione was still fuming when she entered the Gryffindor Common room. How dare that prat Malfoy call her a mudblood and then just leave without doing any work at all. "Hermione, are you ok?" Harry asked when he saw her. "Malfoy didn't do anything to you did he?"
Ron flew out of his seat, "Tell us if he did cause, we'll go beat his brains in!"
Hermione smiled and shook her head, "Thanks just the same, but I'd rather just have you two stay here instead of getting detention for beating on Malfoy." Hermione sighed, "Plus isn't not like I haven't heard him call me a mudblood before, I should probably just get used to it."
"If that prat calls you a mudblood one more time I swear I'll beat him to the ground," said Harry seriously.
Hermione smiled thankfully. "I know, and thanks for that, it's nice just to know that you two are here for me."
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Draco marched out of the library, inside he was in a rage, but on the outside he showed no sign of emotion. That was the one helpful thing he had ever learned from his father, how to conceal any and all emotion. In the past he had mostly used his skill when being punished by Lucius. He was accustomed to pain, both emotional and physical, but he never showed anyone how much it hurt. After learning to mask his emotions from Lucius' tortures, there was no way he was possibly going to let his anger at having to work with that mudblood Granger show on the outside.
He reached his dungeon common room before he realized he was there. He entered and went straight up to his bed. As he marched through the room, Pansy launched herself towards him "Draco! You're back early; want to play a game of exploding snap or something?" Pansy tried to sneak her hand around Draco's waist, but Draco grabbed her arm and pushed it away, then headed up to his room without a word to her or anyone. Once in his room, he changed out of his clothes, because he slept in his boxers, and closed the curtains surrounding his bed. He took out a small leather bound book. It was engraved with his name and a dragon in silver ink. He opened the clasp on the book and took out a large eagle feather quill and some ink. This was his journal that he had kept ever since he had learned to write. There was a spell on the journal that caused the ink disappear into the pages on the dawning of each new year. Draco could retrieve the entries various ways, but he never did, there were no memories written in this book that he wanted to relive. He lifted the quill to a blank page, and began to write.