Love Potion

Chapter 4: Stuck

"Bring her here?" Myrtle asked, clearly confused. "Draco, are you feeling alright?"

"Never better," he promised with a lopsided grin.

"I've just… never seen you so happy," she timidly noted.

She circled him, her pale body barely disrupting the water as she glided around him. Her head tilted as she rested in front of him and her exaggerated pout became a genuine one as she studied his face.

"I really would like to see Granger, and the portrait has locked me in here for at least another hour…"

"Why would she do that?" Myrtle pressed before adding another question he couldn't quite answer, "and why Granger?" He avoided telling her that he told her to do so, and that he had thought it would be best to keep himself locked up for the evening.

"I might have said something to piss her off," he conceded quickly, waving his arms as if to sweep the matter under the rug. He didn't answer her second question but gave her an expectant look.

Myrtle's eyes flashed over to his clothes before realization dawned on her. She cackled gleefully as she swooped down and picked up the little bottle before splashing back into the pool. She giddily held up the pink bottle.

"Are you sure it has nothing to do with this?"

"Absolutely sure," he growled snatching it from her and carefully tossing it back towards his clothes.

"I thought you told me you weren't interested in Mudbloods," she jeered.

"Granger's different."

"As in she's not dead?" Myrtle snapped.

"As in—" he paused cutting himself off. "Bring her here and I'll show you."

"Show me what?" Myrtle growled, noticing Draco's far off gaze as he studied the wall next to them.

"Show you how she is different. She's witty you know, like the brightest witch of our age. She's got this wonderful temper but it never seems to leave her speechless or unable to make a comeback. Just makes her this fiery storm—"

"She isn't all that witty. Her little incident should prove that," Myrtle interrupted emphasizing her distaste.

"Incident?" Draco questioned. Nothing about Granger could be imperfect, especially not in his state of mind now.

"Ooohhhh," Myrtle grinned wickedly, "It was quite amusing to see little-miss-know-it-all mess up. I don't know what you see in her. So you don't know about it?"

"Know about what?" he pressed.

"Her little mess up was when her attempt to trick you went wrong," Myrtle flexed her arm to study her ghostly nails, she feigned indifference as she causally looked up through the fringe in her bangs.

"Trick me? She was interested in me? When was this?"

"You know what… maybe I will grab her. This could be interesting," Myrtle mused. "I'll be right back Draco. Sit tight and don't move."

He didn't have to wait long for Myrtle to dash through the wall with uncontained glee as she squealed in delight. He had to wait a little longer than an hour or so for her to return, and by then he could feel the effects of the potion starting to ebb away. Luckily for him, by the time Granger was shouting at the portrait to let her in the potion had worn off completely. He had just enough time to hurriedly throw on his clothes and stuff the bottle in his pocket before she came barging in.

"Why the hell did you send Myrtle to come get me in the middle of the night? Are you insane?" she started once she saw him.

The portrait swung shut behind her, and he thought it best to send a quick silencing spell in that direction. The last thing he wanted was for the whole school to hear him getting into a row with Granger at this ungodly hour. Judging by the look on her face this wouldn't be a pleasant talk. He scrambled to get some leverage and shoved down the embarrassing thoughts of sharing a bath with Myrtle as he studied Granger. She was in her pajamas; a too large fluffy robe enveloped her showing flashes of her pant leg and slippers as she paced back and forth all the while glaring at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair seemed bushier than normal. Was it just him or were her eyes red and puffy? Had she been crying, or was that from lack of sleep or being rudely awakened by a ghost in the middle of the night?

Either way he had no choice but to move to the offensive at her questioning, as he couldn't tell her that a few hours ago he had willingly taken a love potion to be in love with her. It seemed too bizarre to tell her that the real reason he had asked Myrtle to bring her here was because he just wanted to see her, and possibly entice her in to joining him in the bath. He shook his head to clear it and fight off a rising blush as he addressed her.

"Myrtle mentioned an incident," he said evenly as the ghost swooped in over them to leer down at Granger. "An incident that involved tricking me…" he added when Granger didn't stop her pacing.

She did stop then, but it was only to turn her heated glare to the ghost for a moment before turning her attention back to him. Her brown eyes seemed to spark like molten lava and if looks could kill he was certain he would have been dead ten times over.

"You called me out of bed at two in the morning for something that happened our second year?" she hissed, not missing a beat.

He hadn't really thought he was in danger until the moment her wand was shoved viciously under his throat.

"I think you have an ulterior motive," she continued, her eyes darkened with mistrust.

He couldn't help himself; he snorted and started to laugh. It wasn't a light laugh out of enjoyment but the kind that escapes when someone is so terribly off the target that the other person is stunned into utter disbelief that someone could be so off track. She noticed and pressed her wand harder against him as if to remind him who had the advantage at the moment.

"Granger, I highly doubt I would call you down here for that," he spat before eyeing Myrtle above them, "besides do you really think Myrtle would drag another Mudblood to her death?"

Granger's teeth flashed as she grimaced at him, but her wand didn't lower as she took a step back. Her eyes narrowed in to slits as she studied him. He knew he had made a rather large jump to conclusions but judging by Granger's hard look and overall anger he had to latch on to something that was as far from the truth as possible.

"I never said anything about death, just that your motives are unclear," she growled.

His hand reflexively shot to his pocket, and his fingers brushed reassuringly against the bottle. Granger's eyes followed the movement and narrowed in distrust, before she noticed that his wand was still on the floor beside him. His gaze followed hers and instinctively he frowned and mentally cursed himself. His hand tightened in his pocket before he dropped it and raised his hands defensively. Without bending over and with a slight nudge he kicked his wand over to her.

"Maybe I've noticed the bags under your eyes and figured you'd be up for a chat from the good old days," he said calmly. "I'm clearly not going to attack you."

Her brow quivered in question as her lips formed a thin line. Without lowering her wand she deftly scooped his up and eyed it wearily before pocketing it.

"How reassuring," she snapped, her voice dripping with venom as she lowered her wand and took several steps back. "Now I only have to worry about what could have possibly possessed you to call me here at such an ungodly hour."

"I already told you, a chat about the good old days. Maybe you could elaborate on this incident?"

Myrtle cooed this time, making her presences known as she swooped down between the pair.

"Yes, Granger, why don't you tell Draco about your little plan to spy on him?"

Granger's cheeks flushed and her lips formed a silent 'o' before she let out a sigh.

"I guess there's no harm in telling you now," she seethed, "seeing as Myrtle will tell you either way."

"Oh I would never betray Harry," Myrtle promised solemnly.

"Yet you told him," she spat, pointing her wand lazily at Draco to emphasize her distaste, "that there was an incident."

"I just told him about when you messed something up. You aren't as perfect as you're made out to be," Myrtle shot back with a huff.

"Why are you even here in the prefects' bathroom with Malfoy anyways?" Granger growled.

"Avoiding the question Granger?" Draco shot interrupting the soon to be feuding pair.

"She's been spying on boys taking baths and relieving themselves since restorations on Hogwarts began months ago," Hermione snapped. "So really Malfoy I would be worried about what she might have seen."

"All good things," Myrtle promised, instantly turning the atmosphere awkward. Granger groaned.

"I'm going to bed," she said as she turned on her heel and started towards the door.

"You scared to tell me Granger?"

That stopped her in her tracks. He could practically see steam rolling off her as she whirled around to face him.

"You want to know so badly? Fine. Our second year Harry thought you were the Slytherin heir, being the little prat that you are, Ron believed him and they wanted proof. We couldn't just flat out ask you… seeing as how much you hate my kind," she paused as she straightened her back and held her chin up higher as she glared at him. "We were convinced that the only way to get the truth was to be a Slytherin, so before I was paralyzed we brewed a Polyjuice potion to see if we could trick you in to telling us," she said easily, it almost sounded like she was bragging. If she was telling the truth it was definitely an accomplishment to brew such a hard potion in their second year. Her gaze shot to Myrtle before she growled lowly, "and I happened to mix up hairs with a cat…"

"Oh she looked dreadful," Myrtle cackled.

"Mmm," Granger hummed.

Her gaze was locked firmly on Draco as she waited for his response. He chuckled lightly.

"So that was then huhh…" he mused thinking back to when Greg and Vincent had thinned before his eyes on the couch and then couldn't remember what had happened later on that day when he pressed them with questions.

Granger didn't respond, her glare softening ever so slightly as she placed her hand on her hip in exasperation.

He started to laugh, the response he knew she was waiting for.

"You probably felt silly then. How did you explain that to Madam Pomfrey?"

"She didn't ask," Granger shrugged.

"That's one hell of a way to get away with something like that," Draco noted.

"I'm sure it was my one off for the year. Good grades and general nice behavior gets leniency," she retorted, "now if you'll excuse me, I don't want to use my one off for this year getting caught with you in the prefects' bathroom," she finished. She quickly opened the door and stalked out leaving a smirking Myrtle in her wake and a slightly dazed Draco.

"Wait!" he called after her and dashed through the opening as well.

Myrtle moaned something incoherent and splashed loudly into the bathwater, but he was too focused on catching up with Granger to notice. Granger was half way down the hall by the time he caught up to her.

"Granger, you still have my wand," he bit out when she looked like she was about to start screaming. He narrowed his gaze to her offending pocket as she glanced down sheepishly.

"Oh," she replied, dazed. Wearily she handed it over before practically leaping back to keep the distance between them. "My bad," she said as she turned to make her way back to her common room.

Before he could stop himself he blurted out, "Do things have to be like this with us?"

Time itself seemed to stand still as he mentally cursed himself for being such an idiot. He must have been under the after effects of the love potion or maybe his own lack of sleep was catching up to him. Whatever the reason was he just couldn't keep things the way they were between them. He didn't want that much hate geared at him because of his past. He realized now that he wanted a clean slate, and that was something he would never be able to get. At least he couldn't get that if Granger didn't forgive him, and how could he get that from her if she hated his guts? He couldn't let her walk away; it was that deep gut feeling that had called out to her. It was instinct, heat of the moment but he realized something. He wanted something from her now, and he wasn't sure what exactly something was or if it had anything to do with the House she resided in or her blood. He knew it was neither, that he was just trying to find some sick twisted way to keep torturing himself, and what better way to do that than to antagonize the one person that had always been able to insult him? He swallowed nervously as she turned slowly to look at him.

All the anger he had been expecting disappeared and simple curiosity took its place as she studied him. It felt like her piercing brown eyes saw right through him and straight down in to his soul. He wondered briefly if she saw the 'slimy git' she could barely stand, or if she couldn't make out what he was now.

"Like what exactly?" she inquired softly after a severely intense pause.

He let out a sigh. His eyes fell to the floor as he counted the stone blocks that laid the floor between them. It was exactly seven.

Was he supposed to spill his soul to her and tell her he was a new man? No, that was ridiculous and even if he did she would know that already. They were all different now, damaged by a war that was thrust upon them from their parents. Granger's obviously didn't give her a preconceived idea of other wizards, but they were the reason that she had received so much hate. His mouth went dry as he struggled to find what exactly he should say.

"I am so not in the mood for this," she groaned as she dashed forward, snagged his arm and shoved him into an abandoned room.

She pushed him further in as she perched near the door and held her breath. He didn't have to question her as he heard a few teachers happily chatting and their gentle footsteps pattering down the hall. She leaned against the door when their sounds finally disappeared to glare at him. He knew that even with their prefect duties that the teachers could easily check the posted schedule and know that he and Granger didn't have rounds together for another month. Something that he was suddenly very much looking forward to.

"Well?" she snapped. He winced.

"We can be pleasant," he started, pausing again as he lost his train of thought. She was much closer now, but not enough to touch. Her brown eyes seemed more tired and in the background he faintly heard a clock strike 3.

"And?"

"Why can't we be pleasant to each other more often?" he added.

"You mean like friends?" she snorted.

"I don't see why not?" he shrugged.

She didn't say anything for a long while until finally she snapped.

"I don't think so," she said sharply, "we can be pleasant all we want but we can never be friends."

"I thought Gryffindorks' never said never," he jeered.

"First time for everything," she replied haughtily.

"Exactly," he said calmly, "it would be a first for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to set aside their differences and be friends."

A ghost of a smile graced her lips for a second before she shook her head, "It's been done before. Beside the point, I don't want a friend that thinks it is okay to drag me out of bed in the middle of the night."

"Don't you Potty and Weasel do that all the time?" he snapped.

She flushed instantly, her anger taking over as she took a step forward and roughly shoved him so that he hit the wall behind him, her hands curled against his collar as if she was just itching to throttle him. For a brief and wild moment he thought she was going to kiss him, but that moment passed when he saw the look in her eye. Her anger had changed to hate, and the sheer amount of emotion behind them was enough to silence him from goading her further. He had never been close enough to see her face in such detail (except for that brief moment in their third year when she had smacked him hard across the face but he tended to forget that memory).

"I don't think what I do is any of your concern," she snapped. "You have no right," she seethed, pausing for a moment to collect herself before she continued, "you have no right to ask friendship of me."

"I know," he said softly, "but—"

"I don't want to be your friend," she said harshly. She dropped her hands to her sides and rubbed them furiously against her robe as if to rid herself of his germs.

"If Myrtle didn't tell you why I was asking for you then why did you come?" he snapped.

That seemed to floor the young witch for a brief moment. It was such a Gryffindor thing; rush head first to someone's aid even if you had no clue what they needed. He knew that. He didn't need it explained to him, but even if she hated him she had still come. She knew she didn't have to explain that either.

"Don't get caught heading back," she said briskly before opening the door and stalking out into the hall. "Goodnight," she hissed as she rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.

"Goodnight," he sighed back. He smirked when he heard her faint grunt in acknowledgement.

Despite what Granger said he was now determined to earn her friendship.

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

It's been three days, he thought to himself as he stared out the wide bay windows from the Library. It had been three days since he had dosed himself with the love potion and he wondered if he had gotten the measurement wrong. Often times in the classes he shared with the Gryffindors he found himself staring at the back of Granger's bushy head. She had caught him staring at her twice and now here she was sitting on the windowsill the next window over, angrily flipping through her book and shooting him sharp glares on occasion.

He was about halfway through his homework. He was busy writing his Transfiguration paper about using nonmagical means to help transform Hogwarts (it was completely off topic but he found the other piece dull). He planned on submitting this to McGonagall soon, and if she hated it he planned on asking her for more time to do the original assignment. He figured that she would adore this, as she was currently trying to promote unity and all that mumbo jumbo outside of one's own house. Not that he disagreed… it was just cliché and see through in his eyes. He had come up with the idea as a small payback for the interest the woman had taken in him. He wanted to show her that he could be different and drop his old views. The idea had hit him the other night and he had been busy with it ever since. It was about how house sorting could lead to tensions and was advocating for a few years of abolishing the system for things to smooth over. The original intent on the Houses seemed silly now. They were all students of Hogwarts and they were all taught the same material, why force more wounds on a freshly beaten body. Instead of outer house unity why not dash the system all together?

He was ripped from his thoughts as a small cough notified him that Granger was standing in front of him. She was peering at his homework with some interest before he hurriedly placed his book on top of it and covered it from her gaze.

"What do you want Granger?" he snapped.

She hadn't been frowning at him before then but now a scowl marred her features.

"Nothing," she said easily with a shrug before she turned to walk away.

His body acted on its own accord as his hand shot out to catch her wrist. She froze and he quickly dropped her like he had been burned as he glared at her.

"You can't be serious," he growled. "You didn't come over here just to say nothing and stalk off," he peeved.

She looked conflicted for half a second before she pointed to her window. "It's open now," she said calmly before quickly collecting her things and taking off.

Was it just him or had she just made an attempt to be friendly?

A/N: It has been too long! Sorry to all that have waited for this update, and for other stories of mine you may be following. Life has its ups and downs... but I will hopefully be getting back on track soon. Stay tuned~