Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related things part of this piece of fiction is not mine.
HALLOWEEN MADNESS
(Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)
Chapter 3: CONVERSATIONS WITH A SLYTHERIN
When Hermione awoke the following morning, she went straight to the Great Hall after donning herself in her school robes and getting her bag.
The place was empty when she arrived and upon having herself sat at the Gryffindor Table, Dobby appeared, a wide smile on his face. "Hello, Miss. Is you wanting anything this morning?"
"Good morning, Dobby. I'll appreciate coffee, thank you," she replied, returning the smile.
Dobby bowed at her and retreated to the Kitchens to get Hermione's coffee.
Blessed silence followed after that. Hermione decided to take out her Arithmancy notes and start solving for the problem she left the night before. Deeply absorbed with the problem, she did not notice Draco Malfoy dragging himself towards the Slytherin tables.
"Hullo, Hermione!" he called out in a slurred voice once he was seated, and promptly thumping his head on the table.
She momentarily looked up from the book to him, watched him closely with one brow raised, and said in a loud voice, "Malfoy, seems like you're not much of a morning person. What are you doing up this early?"
He replied in muffled tones: "Wanted to catch you alone."
Hermione paused as she pondered on what Malfoy said. To her it sounded like gibberish. She really did not hear a word he said. One, he was too far. Two, his mouth was on the table.
Dobby came with a steaming cup of coffee for Hermione in that moment.
"Here you go, Miss," he said, handing her the cup. "Is you wanting anything else?"
"No, not anything in particular actually," Hermione mused. "Why don't you go and ask your former enslaver, Draco Malfoy by name, if he needs anything," she stared at him at the other side of the hall. "He seems to be in dire need of anything that you could offer."
"All right, Miss. But is you not feeling sick? You is Harry Potter's best friend. Why is you concerned about Master Malfoy?" he asked, puzzlement in his face.
"I take Care for Magical Creatures as a class. I have learned to have compassion for isolated, poor creatures like that pillock over there," she replied.
"Master Malfoy, sir," called Dobby. "It is your old house-elf, Dobby, sir. Dobby is being sent by Miss to ask if you is needing anything."
"Hello, Dobby," said Draco, removing his face from the table, still feeling slothful. "I want caffeine, Dobby. Do you have anything with strong caffeine content?" he asked, slowly, sifting his words so that they sound coherent enough.
Dobby looked thoughtful for a moment. "Dobby has coffee, Master Malfoy, sir."
"Coffee," Malfoy repeated. "Yes. Coffee," he said, sounding blissful at the realization that coffee did contain caffeine. "Please bring me some coffee."
After Dobby has come back from the kitchen once more and gave Draco his cup, he gulped the content down greedily. Invigorated by the bout of caffeine in his nerves, Draco proceeded to shout at Hermione.
"What are you doing?"
Hermione did not look up, unlike the last time, as she replied, "Arithmancy, not that it matters to you, Malfoy."
At the pretense of peering over her work (which was quite impossible considering that they were too far apart), he commented, "Why don't you let some poor Ravenclaw get the top spot this year? You really are ruining their "smart" image."
She didn't look up, nor did she reply to that.
"Am I supposed to take that as I'm being ignored?"
"For the most part, yeah," muttered Hermione under her breath.
"I am not so certain I could take this much rejection. After all, girls flock around me just to get my attention. I charm all of them. My Adonis-like appearance has captivated the hearts of many ladies in this school. And yet, a Mudblood who really is not all that beautiful turns me down. And I rhymed," he added sounding bemused.
"You sure do have close affiliations with Greek mythological characters," said Hermione conversationally after his long speech. "You've got Adonis and Narcissus. Isn't that just grand?"
"Narcissus?" he echoed. "What of him? The golden looks that he so fell in love with?"
"Thought it was obvious that I was talking about too much self-esteem."
"Oh that," he said, disappointed. "I fancied for a moment there that I've swayed you into believing that I am indeed perfect."
Hermione shook her head in disbelief at him and remembered her conversation with her friends the night before. What really had happened in such a short period of time to have Malfoy this...un-Malfoy-ish? She decided to ask this question out loud.
"You don't need to know," he replied, amusement disappearing from his face. The familiar nuance was back in his voice.
She shrugged and let the matter off. If he didn't want to tell her, it was fine. At least that question brought about the old Malfoy, no telling why she even wanted him back.
Silence.
"So," he said, striking up another conversation as the other went down dead. "What exactly about Arithmancy are you doing?"
Hermione turned to look at him, brows raised. "What do you know about Arithmancy, Malfoy?"
"I happen to take Arithmancy, Grange--Hermione."
She furrowed her brows in a thoughtful manner. Malfoy was with her in Arithmacy? She vaguely recalled Malfoy talking the other day that they competed for top grades in Arithmancy but paid no special heed to it. There were too few non-Ravenclaws in Arithmancy for her to pay actual notice to. Usually, she sat alone in one part of the classroom and the Ravenclaws just fill the room in.
"You don't know I take that subject, do you?" asked Malfoy, catching on after a few more seconds of silence.
How very perceptive, thought Hermione dryly to herself.
"Now, my ego is completely, utterly deflated," he said, sounding honestly forlorn.
"I get it!" she exclaimed, when something came back to her. "That's why those Ravenclaws the other day looked at you like you were some kind of god! You're probably good at Arithmancy!"
"What?" Malfoy asked sounding confused. "My name is always on the lists of top students per class. You don't look farther than your name, do you, Granger?" he sounded malicious.
"I do, too!" she exclaimed, sounding defensive. "I look for Harry's and Ron's names and skip all the others in between."
"Not even embarrassed about that, are we?" he drawled lazily as he watched her with mild interest.
Hermione ignored that remark, and continued with her Arithmancy work, willing herself to concentrate more on it than on Draco Malfoy. She released a thankful sigh as a couple of minutes passed and Draco had yet to talk. But her action was soon proven to be premature as Malfoy began to open his noise mechanism once more.
"You know," Malfoy started, making Hermione want to bash him with her notebook.
Oh, bother! she thought pushing her Arithmancy notes away from her, knowing that she won't be able to work as long as Malfoy was set on chit-chatting her.
"Since you are so bent on ignoring me and my golden looks, I shall talk to myself out loud in hopes of annoying the little, filthy mudblood that you are." Hermione rolled her eyeballs ceiling wards at that. "Hmmm...What topic should I use to start my conversations with moi?"
There was a thoughtful pause from him after that.
Then, "I know. My father, Potty told everyone, is a Death Eater. I'm pretty sure he is, er, was. Hey, Granger, what would you say if I tell you that my father, is a reformed Death Eater?"
Hermione clasped her fingers together, laid her elbows on the table and said, "I'll say that you are a downright liar, Malfoy."
"Well, at least, I know you have enough trust in me. So, anyway, since Potter told on everyone in the You-know-who congregation--that's my special name for them, you know--most Slytherins now do not have their parents at home. You really should pity them."
She did not reply to that. She had thought about those things during the summer but convinced herself that those people wanted to do what they had done. It wasn't anybody's fault but theirs. Instead she asked, "Why do I have a feeling that you are excluding yourself from the lot?"
"Because I'm special. And you really don't need to know much other than that."
Hermione knew that there was something about Malfoy completely different (other than the fact that he was Mr. Congeniality with her all of a sudden). For all it was worth, she's going to have to pry out that information out of him. She will if it explains Malfoy's sudden impulse to get friendly with her.
Before anything was further said, the doors leading to the Great Hall burst open and a sea of students clad in their school uniform walked in, talking with each other.
She quickly spotted Harry and Ron, who were hurrying towards her. They probably saw Malfoy, she thought to herself.
"Good, morning," she greeted them with a smile, sending Malfoy a surreptitious glare (at least as secretly as possible with her friends watching) as he rolled his eyes at the three of them.
"Hello, Hermione," said Harry, keeping a wary eye on Malfoy, who had the gall to continue watching her despite the fact that everyone must be aware of what he was doing. "Was that prat bothering you again?"
"Never mind him," she said. "Come pull up yourselves a chair."
"I don't trust Malfoy," said Ron suddenly when he and Harry had sat down.
"Nobody does," said Hermione.
"And that is not very assuring when he's got his sights on you," said Harry worriedly. "You have to be careful."
"I will," she replied and gave them her friends a reassuring smile.
Double potions with the Slytherins in the afternoon was never fun. Especially if Snape was in the mood to punish the Gryffindors for being Gryffindors, and/or for having Harry Potter in their group.
"Today," Professor Snape said, "we shall be making a potion that shall increase the aging process in the human body." He gave Neville a disgusted look. "As this is a very complicated potion, needing the most adept care, I'm sure some of you will be needing help in its preparation, so the class shall be divided into pairs."
Hermione knew her stand when the class divides into pairs. Harry and Ron were always with each other. She saw at the corner of her eyes that Harry moved in closer to Ron but Snape spoke again.
"No, Potter, don't move. I have done the honors of partnering each and everyone of you with your matches when it comes to this class."
"That means Snape is really serious about this torture business," Harry muttered.
"What was that, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, his ears bionic-like where Harry was concerned. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your insolence."
Snape started calling out names.
"Zabini and Finnigan."
"Bullstrode and Thomas."
"Parkinson and Weasely."
Ron paled as Pansy Parkinson glared at him, as if it were his fault that they were partnered with each other.
"Crabbe and Longbottom."
Neville groaned. Now, he was sure to fail Potions with the lowest grade ever to have been given out to a student.
"Goyle and Potter."
Harry knew better to react. Snape would catch him again. But he thought, I really am that bad in Potions?
The list went on until everyone in class seemed to have been called except Hermione. She raised her hand as Snape was putting the parchment away.
"Yes, Granger?"
"Sir, I haven't been called."
"Yes, and hasn't been Mr. Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" she repeated.
"Yes. Malfoy. Do you have any problems with that?"
"No, sir." She shook her head, and looked at Malfoy's direction. The annoying, sodding pillock was smirking that trademark Malfoy smirk at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, and proceeded to collect her things to sit beside him.
"Hello, again, Granger," he greeted as Hermione took a seat beside him.
"Sod off."
"That's not a very nice greeting to someone who shall help you with your Potions grade, is it?"
"Malfoy," she started through gritted teeth. "Why don't you just get the bloody ingredients and I will prepare the cauldron and other materials?"
Malfoy shrugged. "All right. Works for me."
He sauntered away, then.
As Hermione began with arranging their things on the work table, Ron stopped beside Hermione as he whispered, "Hey. You all right with Malfoy being your partner?"
"Sure," she said, smiling at him. "Hey, Ron," she said, after looking at the ingredient he had in his hands. "You need pomegranate juice not salamander blood1."
Ron eyed the liquid flask in his hand. "Oh, right." And then he went off to exchange it with the right ingredient.
When Malfoy got back, Hermione had already set the materials. She stared at the board for further instructions. "Let's see," she murmured. "Cut the lugworm crawlers into equal pieces and add with rapeseed oil in the cauldron after exactly fifteen seconds."
"I'll cut," Malfoy volunteered closely followed by a well-meaning insult the Malfoys had long been able to apply. "I know I can do this better than you. I'd rather not risk my grade and my health when we test it."
Rather than take the chance of Snape catching them and deducting more points off Gryffindor, Hermione let Malfoy do what he wanted and moved on to the other instructions.
"Pound the lacewing to fine powder and add to the mixture in the cauldron."
She did as the instructions told, with Malfoy watching and helping with the processes without much more complaint nor insult. Halfway through the completion, Hermione was sure that Snape was not jesting with them when he said it was complicated. The potion needed specific timing and good coordination. She wasn't all too sure if she this was going to be one of her best if she had worked on it alone. And much as she hated to admit it, Malfoy was a huge help.
Soon enough their mixture was a dark green liquid giving off a foul stench.
"Is this really supposed to smell like this?" Malfoy asked, his hand covering his noise as he eyed the cauldron disdainfully.
Hermione stepped in beside him and said, "We still need to add scallion leaves. That's the last ingredient. The leaves will remove the stench and turn the potion a slightly pink color and then we stir counterclockwise thrice."
Malfoy nodded and went on with the task. Moments later, after the deed was done, the results were as expected.
Snape came over to them and said, "Good. Now, Granger I want you to tell me what color the potion was before the last ingredient was added."
Hermione, then proceeded to tell the Potions Master what he wanted.
Nodding at her answer, Snape turned to Malfoy, "And what, Mr. Malfoy, would be the function of the powdered lacewings?"
Hermione grew worried that Malfoy cannot answer the question.
But to her surprise, Malfoy replied with ease. "The lacewings, sir, help rejuvenate the other ingredients. In short, the lacewings are used so that the potion could last longer."
"Very good, Malfoy. That's five points to Slytherin. I want the two of you to test your potion. Drink only a few drops so that you'll be only a few years older than you are now."
Next Snape went to was Harry and Goyle's cauldron. "Potter, what is that murk in your cauldron?"
"Professor Snape," he said through the cloth of his robe that was covering his face, trying to keep the fumes coming from their potion off his nose. "Goyle stirred the mixture without looking at the instructions."
"Blaming a fellow student for your own incompetence, eh, Potter?" he said, peering in the cauldron. "Seems to me that what you said is just about right. No, not about Goyle but with the wrong stirring. I want you to drink three drops of that, Potter."
A look of protest passed by Harry's face for the shortest of time.
Hermione said, "Professor Snape, I, for one, don't think it justified that Harry has to drink the Potion when it was all Goyle's fault that their potion isn't up to snuff."
"Granger, who is the Potions Master here?"
"You are, Professor," she said. "But that Potion that they concocted could have really harmful side effects."
"And you know the subject better than I do, is that it?"
"No, Professor Snape."
"Then, Granger, I suggest that you proceed to the task that I assigned you and let Potter bear the consequences of his actions," he said, and left them to move on to another pair.
"Thank you, Hermione," she saw Harry mouth at her. "Don't mind me."
She nodded but still could not let the worry off of her face.
"I'm sure Potty could manage," said Malfoy beside her, taking a few drops of the potion on a separate container. "Snape will not let one of his students die. Sure, he could have them stuck in the Infirmary for quite a long time but that isn't the same as dying."
Somehow, Hermione did not find herself reassured by that.
"Here," Malfoy handed her the container he was working on.
"No way, Malfoy. If we are drinking this potion, we are going to do it at the same time."
He shrugged and got a container for himself and dripped the potion on it.
"On the count of three, then, Granger."
But before their lips even touched the small containers, there was a commotion from the other students and Hermione heard Ron call," Harry!"
Hermione's gaze darted from Malfoy to where Harry was.
And what she saw definitely was not good.
In place of Harry was a toddler. A toddler wearing Harry Potter's school uniform. A toddler who had Harry's unruly black hair, Harry's green eyes, Harry's spectacles--
Merlin...
One did not have to be intelligent to understand what had happened.
Notes:
1- In OotP, while they were in Potions class, Hermione reminded Harry to put in salamander blood and not pomegranate juice. Ron, in this instance, is now reminded by Hermione to put in the latter.