A/N: Do you guys prefer Author's notes at the top or bottom of the chapter? Well here's the next installment of-

Love Potion

Chapter 3: Enlightened

Draco took a deep breath as he tried to keep the composure that he had always exuded over the years. He cast his 'friends' a sweeping glance of the coldest glare he could muster, only things were different now. He wasn't the son of one the most influential wizards in all of England anymore. His status wasn't intimidating. He wasn't intimidating, and he probably never had been. His scowl nearly turned into a pout but he refrained. This part was dangerous. He was teetering on a fine line between insanity and obsession but at the moment he didn't care. He wasn't worried that he would get caught, even though it felt like he should have freaked out over this immediately after it happened.

Goyle was the least respondent. He had been since after the war. Draco wasn't helping either, his longtime best friend was a stranger to him and he had no clue how to reach out and help him grieve the loss of their dead friend. Most days they couldn't look at each other, and words between the two were awkward and forced. They had never had much in common, besides boasting their bloodlines and Goyle following his every command. In fact Draco had heard a rumor from the returning 6th year Slytherins that he might be dropping out and accepting a job offer in Diagon Alley. At first he had been rather upset that Goyle hadn't told him, but then he realized that he hadn't told Goyle what his plans for the future were either. He hadn't told Goyle anything. Draco couldn't find it in himself to glare at him, and skipped right over him to grill his other two roommates.

Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were practically strangers to him in the same sense that Goyle was now. He had spent the better part of his Hogwarts days bossing them and intimidating them in to doing what he wanted. There had been moments when they all laughed, when they got along and swapped stories in the middle of the night, but they had never been close. Not in the same way that he had been close to Crabbe and Goyle. He knew that Potter and his friends thought that they had been his dumb giant body guards and he'll admit that at times he treated them like that (a fact that made Crabbe's death even more painful considering how he died…), but he never thought of them that way. It was strange having to start over in this world, to start over with people that he had known and spent a lot of time with in the past seven years. It was strange to think that despite everything he had been through, everything his friends had been through, they didn't feel very close. The stupid Gryffindor Threesome sure as hell didn't seem despondent with each other; in fact they looked closer now more than ever. The newspapers swarmed them and glorified the tight nit friends making them more celebrities than war heroes. He felt a pang of jealousy of the friendship that he had always craved but never received as he mustered up his courage to clear his throat.

"So which one of you was it?" he asked casually without dropping his glare.

His gaze flickered between the two as if that would reveal something to him, only it didn't help. Theo was sprawled out on his bed flipping through a racy muggle magazine, while Blaise attempted to zip paper airplanes around the room in a small race. Goyle stared out the window with a blank expression. Draco cleared his throat after a moment when it became clear that no one felt like answering him and repeated his question.

"Well whoever did it obviously thought it would be funny to watch you trip over your feet to get at Granger," Nott snickered.

"And get your ass kicked by Weasley," Zabini offered with a smirk.

"It had to have been one of you two," Draco growled interrupting the pair's infamous pattern of rolling off each other's comments.

"You know that is exactly the type of narrow mindedness that gives this house such a bad rep," Zabini sighed with exaggerated sadness.

"It isn't like anyone is scared of you anymore," Theo added, "it isn't like you can run off to Daddy."

Draco felt his teeth grind as his hand instinctively shot to his wand in his robes. The room's atmosphere instantly thickened. That was the sort of comment that made him want to hex his long time roommate and damn the consequences. Nott was the worst when it came to censoring himself for the sake of others, and he had never cared what his friends thought of that. Draco had a thousand scathing retorts geared up and ready to go, but he knew if he said them things would forever be ruined between them. There were some things friendships couldn't recover from. Losing a war, his family, and his arrogant upbringing had taught him that these were the people he looked to for answers. They were all stumbling around trying to figure things out together. If he said what he wanted to in response, there would be no going back. He felt his teeth gnash again as he closed his eyes and bit back a curse. He didn't need to bother hiding his anger, but he could try and not lash out because of it. It was a pivotal moment for the Slytherin group, not that any of them knew it at the time. In that moment where the words were left unsaid there was a shift, a realization between all of them. For each it was different, but it was significant beyond explanation. As Draco stewed in silence his glare deepened at the pair, Nott in particular. Theo finally caved, his eyes lowered as he sighed.

"That was uncalled for… sorry," he mumbled before turning back to his magazine and violently turning the page with exaggerated force.

"I guess we all should lighten up some…" Draco offered timidly, smoothing the situation over without acknowledging the apology directly.

They were all dazed; he realized that. He couldn't let them think that he would let them walk all over him though. He couldn't drop that comment that brought up his past or the prank that was thrown in his face. It was a reminder of who he had been, and what he no longer wanted to be. He realized that they needed ways to start exploring who they actually were, that because of their house they would be discriminated on. They needed each other to heal; it didn't matter if it was hard or not. The prank was supposed to be harmless but it woke something up in him. They all had to find ways to cope and to find a place in this world.

The corners of his lips turned up slightly as he added, "I was wondering who exactly I was starting this prank war with and who will be on the receiving end of my payback. I guess it'll just have to be a surprise."

The room answered in smirks and soft chuckles before they drifted off in to a comfortable silence. He would do well on his promise, he would pay them back for this small embarrassment and he would do it with a flair that they hadn't possessed. He would outdo them and their childish prank. He smirked as he started to think of all the possibilities and ideas he had in his arsenal.

()()()()()()()()()

Draco timidly glanced around the room. After offering a weak excuse to not walk with his friends to lunch he had hung back slightly then he had doubled back to their room and tightly locked the door behind him. He only had a few moments, possibly less; any longer would be suspicious. But he wouldn't feel relaxed until his plan was set into motion on some level.

"Accio love potion," he hissed through gritted teeth.

He couldn't believe he hadn't just tried this approach first. With a gentle rattle, Theo's closet burst open and a sock flew in to his palm. A small pink vial of Weasley's Cupid Crystals fell out when he turned the sock upside down into his hand.

"Well at least that family is good for something," he muttered under his breath as he magiked the sock back in place and locked the wardrobe up to what it had been before.

He left the room just in time as Blaise walked through the portrait and gave him an obviously skeptical look.

"Forgot my book," he mumbled as he brushed past his friend.

They filed into the routine and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch before making their way to class. The pair even managed a few jokes that weren't at any Muggle-Borns' expense. He was silently thankful when class came around and he could zone out their boring professor. History had never been his favorite subject.

He spent the entire class nervously patting his pocket, feeling dirty for some reason, and glancing at the clock.

()()()()()()()()()

Since the end of the war, those that had been involved in the Battle for Hogwarts, regardless of the side they had been, had been offered and recommended counselors for evaluations. Draco had sharply refused his, instead insisting on giving the Ministry vital information in tracking down Death Eaters that had escaped the battle; people like his uncle Rufus LeStrange. That was one way to avoid the probing of his mind and he would rather do that any day. He detested the idea of shrinks, although for other people they were fine, but for himself they left a dirty taste in his mouth.

Now, though, the idea of letting someone in his head and helping him heal was rather appealing. He knew what he was about to do wasn't healthy. In fact it could be downright dangerous. If he became addicted to this feeling, to the effects potions could give him, he could very well never recover. Or if he wanted to get some other fix… his father had always warned him about the dangerous of potions… yet that was half the reason why the subject attracted him so. The danger sent a happy thrill down his spine at all the possibilities and horrors it could bestow on people (and yes he recognized those thoughts as a bit strange).

What kept him from turning to a harsher escape was the constant and daily reminder he gave himself. It had been a whole year and a half since Dumbledore's death, only a few months since the war had ended. He couldn't waste this potential that the great man had seen in him. He couldn't bring himself to disappoint his memory. But on the other hand, it was a harmless love potion, an escape for a few hours. He had figured out the measurements that would leave him under the effects of the potion for just a few hours. Really, love was less harmful than other things he could get his hands on or even brew himself. It was sure better than the Fire Whiskey that Blaise had turned to.

He swallowed nervously.

He hadn't planned on giving in to this desire for escape so soon. It was for a 'just in case' scenario, and to also remove it from the hands of those who would use it against him again. The nightmare that had woken him left him dazed and craving escape. The emptiness seemed to suck life out of him, creating a desperate hole in his chest that had him gasping for breath and salvation. He silenced his struggle with his hand, as he tried to focus on his friends' even breaths and soft snores that filled the room around him.

They were all fast asleep. He wondered briefly if they had had to do anything they regretted during the war. He had been isolated after Dumbledore's death, confined to the manor and thankfully out of the main action. Voldemort hadn't wanted him to mess something else up, and he had used Draco as leverage against his parents. That wasn't to say that he hadn't seen terrible things, he had. He had seen a lot of things that had happened in his house. He was in the process of selling the mansion now; he hadn't been able to bring himself to step inside since the end of the war. He shoved those thoughts down as he tentatively reached over to his nightstand and opened the drawer.

He let out a breath as his fingers closed around the small vial. He slipped quietly out of bed, his feet padding softly against the cool ground, as he made his way to the door. He slipped on a robe and a pair of slippers before making his way out.

He wasn't Head Boy, but he still was a prefect. He planned on using that to his advantage as he rounded the empty hallways. He wondered briefly if it was right that he had turned down the role at the beginning of the semester. Just a few weeks ago he had been too numb to take any notice in his personal appearance, let alone care what a bunch of kids did. That thought struck him as he wondered if that was the reason that Granger had turned down being Head Girl as well. Although he guessed it had to do with something noble, like offering it to the proper student who didn't have to repeat their year. Looney Luna had taken her place, and the Head Boy was some Hufflepuff whose name he never bothered learning. His reasons hadn't been noble at all, in fact he felt kind of selfish and was glad that it had been an off the record type of deal with McGonagall.

The Head Mistress was constantly checking up on him and everyone else from his year that had returned. She seemed to harbor a soft spot for Draco in particular now, as she was always trying to get him more involved with class or gave him a few extra prefect duties to complete. That had annoyed him yesterday, but today he could see her reasoning. Her attempts to keep him active had been a roundabout way of showing him ways to things he could live for; to remind him what Dumbledore had sacrificed for him. He suddenly felt a swell of affection for the older woman. She was trying to see what Dumbledore saw. That wasn't to say that she did see it, but she was making an effort too. He could appreciate that.

After a few more moments of quiet self-reflection and wandering Draco found himself outside of his destination. He snuck a glance around the hall before quietly addressing the portrait.

"Could you make sure I don't leave here for a few hours?"

The little girl in the white dress holding a bonnet of flowers gave him a quizzical look. She had been the new portrait for this room since the last one had been blasted to pieces in the war.

"Password?" she questioned.

"Squeaker," he groaned giving her the password with thick annoyance evident in his tone before adding, "Don't you recognize me yet?"

"I am new you know," she replied haughtily, "and besides you need a password to get in to the room."

"I just gave it to you," he pointed out.

"I know," she grumbled swinging open slightly, "and just because you are annoying me I'll make sure you stay locked in for a few hours."

He grinned as he quickly made his way inside the privacy of the prefects' bathroom.

To be on the safe side he added magic to the door as it locked behind him. He heard the portrait squeal in displeasure from outside and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like 'pervert'.

He felt a nervous sweat gather in his palms as he turned on the bath to his favorite peppermint scent, and then quickly stripped and fell into its warm embrace. He floated in the water for a moment before he got out and timidly folded his clothes and gathered the potion from his pocket. He sat on the edge of the vast bathtub, fidgeting and twirling the bottle in his hands as he did so. He eyed the pink liquid as it sloshed around in its confines with a mixture of distaste and wonder. He unscrewed the cap and noticed the faint scent of peppermint and parchment as it wafted over his curious senses. There's no turning back now, he told himself. With ease he measured out the correct portion of the liquid and downed the contents in a quick gulp.

He had half a second to ponder if he should have looked into procuring an antidote before reminding himself that if he had one he probably wouldn't take it anyways. He hadn't wanted it when Granger had given it to him, and he wouldn't want it now without someone there to prompt him. The full effect hit him instantaneously after he dismissed those thoughts and he slipped into the warm water with a goofy grin plastered on his face. He wondered why he had even doubted that this wouldn't be a good idea.

Granger wouldn't mind it, at least Granger couldn't mind if she didn't know. It wasn't like she was here to stop him.

"Maybe I could go fetch her," he mused to himself.

The past few days she had looked rather tense. From common gossip and tidbits of information from Pansy he had learned that girls loved bubble baths and long massages. Maybe he could entice her to join him. He sloshed around in the bath water as he tried to scramble out.

"Mmmm," coughed a squeaky feminine voice.

He froze, his hands locked on the edge of (what really should be considered a miniature pool) the bath as he cautiously sent a glance over his shoulder.

Myrtle was perched on the shallow steps near the glass window of the mermaid. She wore a small frown with her arms crossed over her chest. She idly blew a few bubbles out of her way as her frown turned to a leer as he looked at her.

"It's been a long time," she pouted.

"It has…" he responded.

Granger, he should really ask her about Granger. She was muggle born too, she could find Granger, and maybe she could convince Granger to come here. He needed to play his cards right. He needed to stay in control of this. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest. He doubted he would be able to keep his cool, but he never had to in front of Myrtle. He had never used Myrtle for anything other than a person to talk to. He trusted her. Giving her a soft smile, he practically lurched from his seat to sit beside the ghost. A slight change in the grayness in her cheeks showed that she was blushing as she glanced down nervously at the water.

"Myrtle," he gasped in realization, "you're Muggle-born right?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" she snapped as her cheeks darkened a shade. "It has nothing to do with visiting for sure," she added grimly.

"I really am sorry about that. I have been meaning to visit you," he reassured her.

"That's what they all say," Myrtle pouted, "or some other lame excuse. Potter's always super awkward whenever I catch him though."

"You talk to Potter?" he asked hopefully. "Does that mean you talk to Granger too?"

"I do talk to Potter. He always offers lame excuses as to why he hasn't come to visit me. Granger? Oh you mean Hermione? That bushy haired know it all?"

He felt his grin deepen, "That's the one."

"I can't say I am fond of her, she doesn't like when I pop up in the boy's bathrooms. She gave me a large scolding last time she heard I was in here tormenting Potter," Myrtle paused as a wicked grin spread across her face. "It was worth it though."

"Worth it?"

"Boys aren't the only ones that play peeping tom," she suggested giving the fading bubbles around him a stern glance.

He would have been embarrassed or uncomfortable at least under normal circumstances, but all he could think of now was if Granger would appraise his nakedness the same way. He sighed dramatically as he leaned back against the wall, using his arm to pull over a few more bubbles to shield him from Myrtle's view.

"Oh you won't tell Granger I'm here will you?" she asked in mock surprise after a moment of thick silence.

Her eyebrows arched impossibly high as she gave him her best pout. She blinked slowly a few times as well. Had his mind been on par and sharp like usual he would have noticed the awful attempt at flirting that the young ghost was trying with him. However, he missed it entirely and instead gave her a dreamy smile as she fell right into a pattern he hoped she would take.

"Actually I was hoping you could go get Granger and bring her here."

A/N: Shout out to the lovely, talented and all around best friend a girl could ask for, Anonymous Being! She's back in action in the writing scene and I couldn't be happier. In case you guys are wondering why I'm all bubbly about this, she's my first mate and beta! SO WOOT! It's nice to have another pair of eyes go over things before posting a chapter. With her pushing me for chapters you guys will probably get several quickly updated chapters for a bit while my moral and motivation is high haha. I have adored the reviews, and I have responded to several of you. Just know that I don't normally do that but while the story is still young I figured I would personally thank you all. I don't think I'll be doing that every time (I'm too lazy). Wish some of you had accounts so I could do the same! But *shrugs* I still think you guys are awesome. Until next time~