Disclaimer: These are so pointless. Shouldn't it be obvious that I ... a) Am not JK Rowling (would I be writing on ff . net if I was? No, I would be in my mansion sending the latest book to my publishers so my millions of fans could faint in pure joy)... b) do not make any money off this (who would pay me?!) and c) am not trying to pose as the creator of Harry Potter. Even attempting it is just ridiculous. Not even an Alzheimer patient would believe that.
Chapter 5 // The Check-Up
Hermione wasn't potions master at the Ministry for nothing. In addition to one year of education in school, she had received extensive guidance from Severus Snape during the time of war. He had taught her as much as he could, and seeing as the student was Hermione, all the knowledge had been soaked up and stored as if it was a treasure. She never did anything half-way, and she had taken on the task of potions brewing with great enthusiasm. Not even the fact that Snape was her mentor put her off it, and in hindsight she was very glad her childish dislike for the man hadn't kept her from taking his offer. She knew he had taught her more than anyone else possibly could, and the fact that she was now highly regarded in the potions environment was partly his doing.
But as explained, Hermione never did anything half-way once she had put her mind to something. And once an idea had entered her mind it would not leave voluntarily. This is why she became mildly obsessed with figuring out whether or not something fishy had been done to alter her life. She knew of a rare potion that had only been used a handful of times throughout history, which altered your perception of the world to the brewers preferences. It was one of the many illegal potions being monitored constantly by the Ministry, and one it would take approximately 6 whole months to brew. The chances of anyone slipping that particular potion into her drink were minuscule, but despite all her knowledge and logic telling her it was ridiculous, she couldn't shake the thoughts.
She spent an entire afternoon buried in the books she had brought, researching the particular potion. When it neared evening she found a spell that would make her completely sure she was not under the influence of it. She did the spell quickly and easily, never having been one to struggle with new additions to her vocabulary of spells. Only afterwards did she check what the reaction was supposed to be, and she frowned when the book told her she would be glowing green tomorrow morning if she was out of danger. She would be glowing green? It sounded like an extremely odd way of controlling, one that she had never encountered, but then again it was a very complex potion, and a potion that hadn't been modernized or modified at all due to its illegal status.
Her eyes flew open the following morning, her mind instantly on the illegal potion she might be inhabiting. She jumped up from her bed, hoping to God or whoever was listening that she was not glowing green. It was completely illogical that she would wantto be contaminated by an illegal potion, but at least it was an explanation for all the weird changes in character and the odd happenings of her life lately.
"Granger, I've fixed the consequences of your childish tantrum the other –"
She squealed when she realised Malfoy was standing in the doorway, and tried to hide herself behind the wardrobe door, despite the fact that she was fully clothed.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" she screeched, coming out from behind her hiding place when she remembered she had nothing to cover up. She threw the wardrobe door shut with a loud thud.
The question remained without an answer, because Malfoy was clutching his stomach laughing harder than she had ever seen him laugh. He was starting to wheeze and snap for breath, still howling with the sound so foreign to her ears.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, putting her hands to her hips.
He didn't need to answer, because at that very moment she caught a glance of herself in the mirror and yelped in horror. She was emitting a light green glow, looking horribly glow-in-the-dark, except she didn't need any dark to glow. It was not a flattering look, and she found herself chuckling softly at her ghostly appearance. Well, there it was. She hadn't had a perception-altering potion.
"What have you done to yourself?" Malfoy asked in an incredulous voice once his breath had returned.
Hermione merely motioned towards the open book, and he stepped up to it while peering down upon the page. She watched his mouth fall open as his eyes darted across the page. He snorted with laughter as he finished reading, and she scowled evilly at his mocking.
"Shouldn't I stop glowing now that I know, though?" she asked in slight concern.
He looked up, pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes and she quickly noticed the familiar smirk on his lips.
"The obsessive reader Granger didn't read the fine print for once?" he mocked in amusement, and her eyes widened.
"Fine print?" she asked in a small voice.
He motioned her over and pointed at a minuscule font down at the bottom of the page, and she growled in frustration as she bent over and read it.
"24 hours?!"
"Seriously, Granger," he drawled, looking down at her bushy head bowing over the book. "Why did you even do this? This potion hasn't been seen in 50 years and it's monitored so closely by the Ministry - which you should know - that any brewing would be caught almost immediately because of the rare ingredients required."
"I know," she replied haughtily as she straightened up and put her arms protectively over her chest. He was standing way too close for her liking. "I just needed to know. All these changes in my life aren't natural. There are never these kinds of changes. It just can't be real."
"Granger, everyone's lives change dramatically from time to time. We can't always blame it on something specific, or someone specific."
She jerked when he put his hand on her back and steered her out of her bedroom. Since when did Malfoy have the right to steer her out of anything? She turned and looked at him with what she hoped was her best stern look.
"I made coffee," was his only explanation, and she relented. It was just because of her love of coffee, of course.
Once she had sat down by the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in her hand, he began speaking again.
"Life is supposed to change, you know. It's supposed to move forward, have different phases. You're a child, you're a student, you work, you settle down. Life is all about change, and fighting it won't help."
"What if you don't want that change?" she growled. "What if it's something you didn't choose?"
"That it was forced on you doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad change. Maybe you were too blind or too deep into it to see that it wasn't the right place for you to be" he suggested. "Change doesn't have to be bad."
She gave him an indignant look. "I don't like it when you're right."
He gave a surprised chuckle. "Of course you don't. I just never thought you'd actually admit it, though."
"But with all this said, I'm still not convinced about your abrupt change," she announced, and put her mug down. "Walk towards the middle of the floor."
To her never-ending surprise he did as he was told, and watched her with an amused expression and a smile hiding just below the surface. She got up and stood in front of him, throwing every spell she knew for revealing altering potions. The most obvious ones were Polyjuice, mindbreakers, the potions form of Imperius (though with a slightly lighter effect). She also threw in some for rarer cases, and also checked for the actual Imperius and a handful of other curses. When none of them revealed anything out of the ordinary, she sighed heavily and let her wand arm fall to her side.
"I'm afraid you have to settle for the explanation I have already given... war changes you, time changes you. I grew up."
He gave a crooked grin. "Though not all that much." Malfoy twirled his wand around in his fingers, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, which reminded her of the fact that he was in her kitchen... at 8 AM in the morning.
"How did you get in here?" she asked suspiciously. "And what on earth are you even doing here?"
"I know my unlocking charms," he shrugged, leaning back against the counter. "And I'm making coffee and fixing the banister."
"Couldn't you have waited until I woke up and then ask me if it was alright to come over?" she commented with her eyebrow raised. "That's what a normal person would do."
"Oh, but you forget... I'm not a normal person."
She just shook her head at that, knowing that was for certain. Normal was not a word she would use to describe that man.
"I still think you're being a bit overconfident."
"There's no such thing as overconfident."
"Of course there is. When you just walk right into your former enemy's house and expect to get out unhexed, then you're overconfident."
"Well, I'm still here, aren't I?" he commented with a smirk.
"Because of my good will, obviously," she retorted. "If you hadn't made coffee, your face might have looked a bit different now. Covered in bats, for example."
He just shook his head. "Who knew you would be so aggressive, Granger. I do remember when you slapped in me in 3rd year, but I figured it was a onetime thing. Poor Weasel, he must be mutilated by now."
She stiffened again at the mention of Ron, and she felt a faint blush reach into her cheeks. For Christ's sake, she was here to get over it all, and it didn't seem to be working very well. She couldn't even hear his name without having it all crushing back on her. The doubts, the hurt, the humiliation and the hopelessness, all making one glorious rush of negative emotion and self-doubt. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself, trying to think of something else.
"Are you ever going to tell me why you jump like I screamed VOLDEMORT and pointed at an ugly arse with red eyes every time I say the word 'Weasel'?" he commented dryly, watching her hunch even further down onto the table.
"No."
"Thought so."
"You're not going to ask?" she inquired, looking quite pitiful where she sat, her eyes large and apprehensive.
"You'll tell me soon enough," he predicted with a small smile. She nodded in reply, and he took in her look of defeat with a frown. "Look, I have to go. I'm helping Marigold degnoming her garden."
She waved her hand dismissively at him. "Go have fun." He snorted in reply, and gave a small wave before disappearing out of her kitchen and down the pathway leading away from her house. She felt indescribably empty as he left. And as if that wasn't enough... she was locked inside for the day due to her oh-so-healthy green glow.
A/N: Sorry it's a bit short, but it felt natural to cut it there. The next one is a lot longer :)
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1HarryPotterfan: Harry will indeed find out... somewhere along the line :)