Love Potion

Chapter 2: Chasing Clouds

The week was miserable. It was not because of the endless stream of taunting from his fellow Slytherins, nor was it because of the black eye he was nursing from the nasty brawl and encounter he had had with Weasel shortly after the 'incident'. It wasn't even that the elves hadn't served his favorite breakfast in over a month. No, none of that could bring him down, he could handle all that; he was used to all of that. What he wasn't used to was not seeing Granger in the classes they shared. She was still turning in her work to the teachers, still at the Great Hall in the mornings eating her breakfast, she was still at Hogwarts. She just wasn't going to their classes, their Potions class to be specific, and it just so happened to be the class where he sat directly behind her.

Had times not changed, had he not changed, he would have eaten up the chance to spew hateful words into her ear with this prime position. He would have gone on and on about his rotten luck having her bushy hair block the board from his view, or maybe he would have flung shavings or a variety of trash at her in his spare time during lecture. He hadn't done any of that this year, he merely ignored her. Their month together at Hogwarts should have proved otherwise, he rarely spoke to her, rarely looked at her. If that's the case then why do I notice when she isn't here? He thought as he sprinkled a few pinches of minced wormwood into the bubbling cauldron that he was working on. He easily excused those thoughts as he was still feeling some type of 'after effect' from the 'incident'.

He had spent a year under Voldemort's rule in this school, with Death Eater's as his teachers and no escape to a life outside. This once safe haven had lost its magical touch of protection that they were safe here no matter what. That thought had been dashed against the wall as violently as Dumbledore's death. So that year he had often wondered, along with the rest of the wizarding community, what the golden trio was up to. The group of friends that he had tormented growing up he had secretly wished would come back and save him, save the school. Gryffindor courage still filled the halls, still resisted against the 'Dark', but it wasn't the same.

That year should have let him grow used to her absence, but right now hers in particular seemed off. Potter hadn't bothered to show up this year, the kid was off on his honeymoon before starting an internship at the Ministry. Draco had merely come back because he currently needed to work out a living arrangement and this old home seemed less frightening than the other options he had. The other options were where the Ministry could disturb his daily life at the drop of a hat, but at least here they had to give some warning. Zabini, Goyle, and Nott were all in similar situations. Pansy, Crabbe, and a few other would have been seventh year Slytherins had either died during the war or just decided to not come back. In fact not many came back and the few that did were opting to leave early, like Weasel. He had come back, but it looked like he was just waiting for Potter to get back so that he could follow him. Granger was the only one of notice that was sticking it out that seemed to actually want to come back to school. Maybe that was her stubborn Gryffindor side or maybe she saw it as a way to fix some part of her innocence that was lost during the war. After all, fixing up your old childhood home seemed like a good way to try and restore some lost faith before moving on with life. Maybe that was why it bothered him not seeing her in Potions.

Maybe it was the fact that he kept dreaming about her at night, that he secretly suspected she hadn't given him the proper antidote, or maybe it was that he wanted those feelings back. This was bordering on close to an obsessive level and he knew it. But at the same time, he didn't care. He felt like he had been woken up, and he was groggily trying to grope around for his wand to shut off the annoying alarm he had set a few minutes too early. Half of him wanted to go back to sleep, where it was blissfully dark and didn't require any work on his end. The only half knew he had to get up and start the day. It was a poor analogy, really, but he couldn't think of a way to put it in words just what exactly he was feeling. The best summary was restlessness, and he thought he had a solution to fix that.

He felt that if he saw her in close quarters, like their seating arrangement, again that it would help clear the air. He could see that there was nothing special about her then. She was plain, not in an ugly way, just plain. Besides her curly hair and her bucked teeth there wasn't really anything that unusual about her looks, she was average everywhere else. Wait… were her teeth bucked? When he had been with her the other day he hadn't noticed it, in fact the last time he remembered making fun of her large teeth a spell had gone horribly wrong in their fourth year and her smile had looked different ever since. Why was he noticing her smile?

Why the hell had she been avoiding only this class?

Draco found that his teeth were grinding together and that he had stirred his current concoction into such a state that it had started to boil over.

"Oy, pay attention! What the hell has gotten into you?" Blaise growled as he quickly waved his wand over the mess so that the spilled potion disappeared from the table. He looked worriedly over at their project's lower level but seemed to reassure himself as he went back to work on flatting some type of bean. He gave Draco another look of disproval, to which Draco shrugged and glared at Granger's empty chair, wishing now more than ever his favorite verbal outlet was here.

The rest of the class passed without incident. Even with the small hiccup of Draco's neglectfulness the two Slytherins finished first in class. Draco turned their vial that contained a part of their potion in it to be graded up to the front desk to Slughorn. The old man was busy reading over what looked like very old letters as he sipped some tea. On occasion he would glance up and bark a few sharp orders at some of his least favorite students, or coo affectionately to his well-liked favorites.

"Here you are," Draco said smoothly holding out the vial.

He noticed on the rack where Slughorn placed vials that needed to be graded, that there was already one there. The corners of his lips pulled downwards at the sight, and Slughorn took notice with what looked like to Draco malicious glee.

"Miss Granger sure is something. She hasn't been too happy with my proposal that I offered her that morning she came by to help you. She's been avoiding me ever since," the professor chuckled. He drummed his fingers against his desk in excitement as if he thought Draco couldn't just wait to ask him what he was talking about. Against Draco's better judgment he decided to go along and indulge his professor in a follow up question he was obviously expecting.

"Your proposal?"

"I offered her to get her in touch with an old friend of mine. I was just suggesting to her a few fields of work that I felt like she would excel in and I didn't see any harm in trying to offer her an interview. Only she seemed to know this, er, friend and became rather flustered…" he trailed off and gave the younger student a knowing grin.

"Really Professor, I don't care what you try to get your students to do in your spare time," Draco growled lowly making sure to keep his tone down as a few other students looked at the chatting pair with interest.

Two years ago he had tried so hard to get this man to see potential in him, and two years ago he nearly murdered the only man who had. Dumbledore served to be a constant reminder in his everyday life that he could be more than what he had been the day before. With that being said he was curt with people he had once thought so highly of, people that used people to get something they wanted weren't as appealing to him anymore, in short people like Slughorn. In fact, his professor downright disgusted him at times like this.

"My dear boy, if only you understood! I'm offering this deal to all our returning 7th year students. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. I had just offered it to Miss Granger first because… uh well… I knew and perhaps hoped to see something more come from this meeting with my friend," he grinned sheepishly.

"You tried to set up Granger on a date?" he snorted.

The older, darker, side of him snickered evilly at all the possible insults he could use in his arsenal against her, 'You're such a teacher's pet that they have to set you up on dates?' Oh the list was endless, but that part had long ago started to die out. In its place now stood something he wasn't familiar with.

"Tried? No, she accepted. I just think she is too embarrassed to get the date set in stone. Plus I think she wants it to be as a professional meeting, not a meeting trying to rekindle an old fling," he chuckled nervously. "You won't say anything to her about this right? My friend is getting rather pushy so I was going to approach her tonight at dinner."

"I'm not friends with her, why would I say anything?" he replied flatly at turning his heel and stalking out of the room.

"Good lad," Slughorn called out good-naturedly at his retreating form.

He had finished his assignment so early that he still had a good two hours before his next class. He parted ways from Zabini offering a mild excuse of having to study for an upcoming test before making a beeline towards the library. He wasn't telling a whole lie, just a partial one.

He found her in her usual spot, curled up near one of the large windows that faced out towards the extensive grounds just barely masking the Quidditch field from view with a few well-placed trees.

For some reason he had cataloged all the ways to find her over the years. The library was the one place he had never disturbed her before, and it was one of the easiest places to find her. This spot was right around the bend from one of the first few shelves and was easily in plain few of several desks and students browsing for some lower level reading. He had often seen her there over the years curled up with a thick book of some sort. Was it odd that he thought of this as her usual spot? He gave her another glance over as if it would reveal something to him as he timidly stepped towards the edge of the shelf. The rows gave the space an eerily quiet feeling, as if this space could suck out all the sound that any student would dare make in the library. For a moment he was almost afraid to speak.

"And do I owe this wonderful pleasure of being blessed with the Mighty Malfoy's presences to the after effects of a potion?"

Her voice startled him from his spot. He had still been halfway behind a shelf, easily in view but obviously torn on whether or not he should approach her. He let his head fall against the back of the rough wood between the shelves with a dull thunk as he groaned at her response, looked like she felt like being snarky today.

"Look, I don't remember saying that," he offered defensively taking a step forward with his hands up as if it would pacify her.

"You might as well have. You know, I do find it unusual that you seemed to have forgotten or blocked out some of what occurred the other day."

"I'm good at blocking out traumatizing events," he teased as he stood a good foot or two in front of her. He crossed his arms and impatiently placed his weight on one foot as he glared down at her from her seat on the window sill.

"Aren't we all," Granger offered without any sarcasm. She glanced up from her book for the first time to give him a sweeping gaze. "You didn't answer my question," she told him when he didn't respond.

For a split second he had to backtrack. It had been a long time since someone had been… like this with him, since someone could keep up with him or challenge him in a conversation even if it was for a second. He had expected her to tease him more about Weasley beating him, he had expected anger to be there at him. He had expected a lot of possible outcomes but this wasn't it. It seemed like a friendly chat between two acquaintances with just enough wit involved that he had to actually pay attention. Lately every word out of everyone's mouth was recited, was predictable. The boredom that stemmed from that was almost as bad as the numbness. He wasn't used to talking to her, she was in a different class altogether.

"No. I'm completely-sober-full-of-hate Malfoy," he answered cheekily.

She laughed.

"Good to know," she said once her chuckles died down after a few angry glares from the librarian. Her gaze turned back towards her book and once again he didn't exist. Her eyes greedily scanned the pages as she devoured the words and soaked in the knowledge.

Was it that easy to start joking with someone that hated his guts? She wasn't going to grill him with a thousand questions about who had spiked his juice or why he was here? That didn't seem very Granger-like. Wasn't the library her turf? He dismissed that last thought as silly. Granger wasn't so petty to expect people to avoid the library just because she spent most of her free time here. He shook his head and found that he was now leaning against the wall next to the window. This was the closest he had even stood next to her without calling her some type of name or having some type of alternative motive. She didn't tense up, or even look up from her book. There was something soothing about that inherent trust she had that he wouldn't do anything despite their history.

"You know most people come to the library to read or to study," Granger started looking up from her book after a few minutes of silence.

"Maybe I came for the large windows to challenge my eyes to find the Quidditch pitch," he elusively excused. "Seeker training," he offered quickly at her skeptical gaze.

"There are other windows that have better views," she told him pointing to the next window down.

"That isn't as challenging," he told her straining his neck in a fake attempt to see better out the window.

"Well if you must insist on developing your skills maybe you should start with the easiest view and work your way to the hardest?" she suggested in a thoughtful tone.

"Is that a suggestion to leave Granger?"

"In a subtle way I hope," she told him with a grin.

"But then who would be around to give you stimulating conversation?" he quipped.

She answered with a smaller smile as she pointed to her book.

"Fine," he grumbled as he pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to the other window. He spent the better part of an hour sitting on the window sill and glaring out into the bleak grey sky as the clouds that rolled by, or studying the fields and paths that led down to the (now visible) Quidditch pitch.

A few times he was tempted to go back to Granger's window and try to get a rise out of her to see if he could get them kicked out of the library but he wrote that off as childish. He stole a few glances at her here and there, and each time a portion of the book she had read seemed to diminish as the side that she had yet to read continued to shrink under her hungry gaze. What had he expected when he had gotten here? That she would talk to him? That she would open up and vent to him? That there would be some type of communication that led to a stalemate in their old rivalry?

Granger stood suddenly with a satisfied sigh. She placed the book lovingly on the window sill for a brief moment as she stretched her arms over her head dramatically and let out a small yawn. She glanced over at him and offered a small smile.

"Windows open now," she said as she scooped up the book.

He stood hastily and made his way towards her as she started to disappear from his view behind a bookcase.

"The brightest witch of our age should know better than to fall for a cheap lie like training a Seeker's eyes," he growled as he caught up with her a few rows down. She was sliding the book back in place and eyeing a few other titles. She rolled her eyes dramatically letting her neck roll smoothly as well as she swiveled it to look at him.

"Well I figured you had to try and develop some skill for that game," she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"Did you just call Quidditch, that game?" he asked his voice breaking a pitch ignoring the implied insult she had jabbed at him.

"Yes," she answered flatly. "And don't start with a lecture please," she added when he opened his mouth to do just that.

Suddenly this felt extremely weird, here he was following Granger around to make small talk… about Quidditch? He shook his head once and took a step back.

"You haven't been in Potions," he said evenly, finally bringing up the point that had haunted him in to coming here to talk to her.

He had expected her to growl and tell him it was none of his business but he was rather surprised to see the blush that took its stead.

"Yes, I haven't been," she agreed evenly, she looked towards the bookshelf and at the thousands of titles that were lined up before her as her cheeks continued to darken in color. He kind of wanted her to look back at him, he took another step back.

Why? Why was he doing this? The other day she had made it clear that she wasn't looking to joke around with him, but she hadn't made any real attempt to lash out at him or turn him away. His mind flashed back to when he had held her in the hallway. She hadn't pulled away immediately; in fact she seemed to be waiting for some type of signal from him. Was she craving attention from someone she hardly knew? Was she looking for a friend? Did she feel as empty as he did?

"I was…"

"Malfoy," she said jumping over his hesitation, "I would not tell you even if I wanted to. Right now I would rather just be alone. I'll be in class tomorrow," she promised.

"This was nice…" she added as she took a few steps towards him to go past him. She paused briefly as if she was debating on retracting that statement. Her teeth caught the bottom of her lip as she started to move past him.

"I might have to come here to train more often," he breathed out lowly.

He could have sworn he saw her grin as she rounded around the corner.

"See you tomorrow," she called lazily waving her in farewell. She didn't once look back, if she had she would have probably been taken back by how memorized Draco seemed to be.

What was it about watching a girl leave that hypnotized men? Oh right…

But this was Granger! Bookworm extraordinaire. He shouldn't be watching her like this; he shouldn't be seeing her as a regular 17 year old girl. He shouldn't be thinking about her or trying to make light conversation in his free time.

What Draco really couldn't figure out was why 'shouldn't' was in his vocabulary. This was a new world, he was turning over a new leaf, and he could do whatever he wanted. He just had to figure out what exactly he wanted.

He sighed and made his way back over to Granger's window, taking her seat with a sulking frown. Numbness, he was trying to avoid that feeling. He wanted to feel things again, he was craving it. He didn't want his old life back, he didn't resent things that had happened to him since the end of the war, but he didn't want to continue looking on with mild indifference. He wanted to care! Yet he wasn't sure how to fight off the numbness that made him indifferent.

He squeezed his eyes shut with a groan as he suddenly thought of a temporary solution to his problem. It couldn't be healthy for his mind, but at the same time he was sure it would work. At least for a little while.

A/N: Here is chapter two. I would like to thank you all for the reviews. I do realize that this might be an over used idea, but I like putting my own twist to things, I feel like I can deliver it differently. So thank you for those who have given this fic a shot and noticed that this is/will be different. Trigue, this is a shout out to your lovely review and I am slightly disappointed that I couldn't send you a P'M to chat with you. :) Until next time.