Chapter 2: Sandalwood

The Great Hall looked as grandiose as Hermione remembered. Even after the War, they didn't manage to revert it to its former glory. It lacked the safety and magic that had died along with Dumbledore. It was ever shadowed by the dead they had continued to mourn, never to be lit by its wondrous innocence.

After the battle was over and Voldemort was defeated, Hermione went back to Hogwarts to finish her final year and take her NEWTs but things were never the same. The halls were emptier, the professors grim and she had navigated the entire school year alone, as Harry and Ron had enrolled to become Aurors immediately after the war. She had to experience Hogwarts on her own and for a change, see how desolate and solitary she truly was. Harry and Ron were her only close friends and apart for them, she hadn't really made ties as strong as the ones in her trio. That was the moment when Hermione realized how much her worth was influenced by the fact that she was friends with Harry Potter. It was as if she had no idea who she was unless she was attached to his and Ron's hip. Everything she had battled for had been dictated by Harry, albeit not on purpose but by circumstance. If Harry and Ron hadn't existed, what would she have wanted? What would she have done?

The same thoughts continued to plague Hermione even in current moments, surrounded by all her former classmates. She had missed their laughs, their courage and their noisiness. She had even missed the food and drinks, not to mention the ghosts. All four houses celebrated at their assigned tables, their members unaware of what was due soon. The ceiling sparkled with enchanted candlelight, a blanket of comfort floating in the air.

At her right, Ron was stuffing his face with a recently apparated bowl of something, fairly oblivious to what was going on around him. Around this time, she would have hit him with her book, berating him for not being worried enough about Harry's absence. She recalled it was also her cute, not-so-obvious way of asking for Ron's attention but she couldn't bring herself to do it anymore. He was supposed to be her husband in the future but not just yet. She could delay it for a while, couldn't she? It was not as if Ron was going anywhere, at least no further than Lavender Brown's obsession would momentarily allow.

"Where on earth is Harry?" Ginny asked, taking over Hermione's role.

"There he is," Hermione replied, having spotted Harry and Luna enter the Hall from the corner of her eye.

"He's bleeding. Why is he always bleeding?" Ginny asked both worried and annoyed at him.

Harry took a seat at the table, Ginny fussing over him and Ron shaking his head in disapproval. He took the offered handkerchief from Ginny and started talking but Hermione was no longer listening; Dumbledore had approached the stand. It had been years since his death and never again did Hermione think she would see Dumbledore alive and well. He truly was the greatest wizard. His presence was commanding enough to engulf the entire hall and the way he peered at everyone from behind his half-moon glasses testified to his wise nature. He could read you like a book, uncovering the pages you had ripped yourself and hidden away in the darkest corners of your heart. She had missed seeing him, hearing his reassuring voice, his logical words and his shrewd remarks. Now that she was back here, Hermione would do everything in her power to prevent his death. With Dumbledore alive, the war would have far fewer casualties. Perhaps there would be no war anymore…

From her seat, she had the best vantage point to look at him. While everyone was paying attention to Dumbledore's sixth-year speech, Hermione glanced across, over Harry's shoulder, to Draco Malfoy. He held his chin in his hand, playing around with his food, eyes downcast. Clearly, he wasn't paying attention either. If anything, he was distraught, lost in deep thoughts, and with good reason too. His father had gone through that horrible trial and was sent to Azkaban, his family had been divided, the Dark Lord was looming over him and over all that he held dear and as she now knew for certain, he had also been chosen to become a Death Eater. Above everything, this year was going to be catastrophic and the things he was expected to do were indeed sufficient enough to make anyone lose their mind.

Hermione stopped herself in her thoughts. Was she…pitying him? Him, of all people? Well, it made partial sense, she was biased toward future Draco and how in the end, he had chosen to switch sides and change the course of the war. Present Draco and future Draco had nothing in common, that transformation took years and it had been necessary for him to experience all the horrors to change for the better. Right now, he was still a despicable brat, set on helping the Dark Lord. It was him and only him that mended that vanishing cabinet, allowing direct passage into Hogwarts. No matter the reason, he had no excuse, Hermione tried to convince herself. If it hadn't been for him, that fateful night wouldn't have happened; the Death Eaters wouldn't have infiltrated Hogwarts and Dumbledore would have remained alive. If Draco hadn't fixed that cabinet, things would have been different. If he…

There it was…her answer. The reason why she was back in time. The way or better said, the person who could help stop everything was right there in front of her. She didn't quite like the deduction but the sooner she came to terms with it, the better. Unfortunately, Draco was the key to changing their dreadful future.

"...in the end, that greatest weapon…is you. Just something to think about. Now off to bed, bip bip," Dumbledore finished his speech on a rather bleak note, spreading uneasiness throughout the entire hall.

"That was cheerful," Harry remarked, raising to his feet along with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Hermione? You coming along?" Ron turned to Hermione, waking her up from her reverie.

She took a moment to respond but eventually decided to nod and accompanied them out of the hall, toward their Common Rooms. On their way out, she couldn't help but follow Draco with her gaze until she lost him in a sea of green. How was she supposed to convince him to stop mending that cabinet? Hermione couldn't exactly approach him and tell him she knew what he was planning. Destroying the cabinet would also raise suspicions or worse, force him to find other solutions that would interfere with Hermione's plan. She could prepare better for what she knew for certain was coming and deviations from the future were not welcome yet. One way or the other, Hermione had to earn Draco's trust.

OOO

However, earning his trust was easier said than done. In all those years, they had barely spoken and when they did, it was to say hurtful things to each other. No matter how many scenarios she would come up with, in none would she and Draco be able to have a normal conversation, nevertheless have him confide in her. His suspicions would be raised no matter what, especially since he was always surrounded by his faithful watchdogs, Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson. Attempting such a feat was insane, Hermione understood that all too well but it was her only chance to alter the past for the better.

She looked to the future and to the man Draco Malfoy had become and hoped she could appeal to those redeeming qualities he kept buried underneath that cold and proud facade. Somewhere deep down inside was the man she ended up secretly admiring: a skilled auror, a respectable wizard and an exemplary father. Surely, that remarkable persona had to stem from somewhere and perhaps, it would be uncovered by Hermione sooner than later. Perhaps she could show him that not everyone was against him and some understood the difficult decisions he was forced to make. At least now, when she was in possession of all the facts and succeeding events.

It bothered her, how easily she found excuses for him when the same her couldn't stand the sight of him in the past. Some things changed while others didn't, such as the ease with which she could recall all of Hogwarts' hallways and turns, feet taking her systematically toward her next destination. It was as if Hermione was rewatching a movie, the only difference being she was also allowed to direct it.

She soon joined a handful of students heading toward their first Potions class of the year. Draco was also ahead of her, flanked by his male colleagues and oblivious to Hermione's stare. All of a sudden, she found herself right behind him. Hermione realized how dangerously close she had stalked him only when his robe fluttered against her arm. Fortunately, he hadn't noticed. What was wrong with her? Was she that desperate to interact with him she was shamelessly ready to invade his personal space to such lengths? Hermione readjusted her pace and just in time, for she noticed him drop a notebook. She lunged at the opportunity.

"Malfoy," she called out, tone steady and light.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, an expression of subdued contempt gracing his features. It was obvious he was expecting a berating retort from her part and when none came, he raised his eyebrow at her, awaiting explanation.

"You dropped this," Hermione proclaimed and handed him his notebook. His grey eyes traveled from her face to her hands and he snatched the notebook away urgently. Draco simply regarded her for a second and turned his back, void of any words or any sign of gratitude.

"Well, that seems about right," Hermione muttered to herself. What did she expect, a heartfelt "thank you"? Truth be told, she expected something; an insult, a sneer, a mocking statement - anything to make her apparently dormant feelings towards him reemerge and make her hate him. It was unnatural, both his silence and her reactions to him. Luckily for her, neither Harry nor Ron had arrived for class yet which meant that there was no one to scrutinize her behaviour.

The students took their places and Professor Horace Slughorn introduced himself as the new Potions master along with his curriculum for their sixth year. Slughorn was about to tell them about the concoctions he had prepared for them that day when Harry and Ron barged into the classroom, evidently still chasing away the last fragments of sleep from their eyes. Those idiots hadn't even brought their study books with them. And then it hit her; she should have told them to be on time that day and also bring their study books. That would have prevented Harry from finding Snape's own study book. Hermione needed to be more careful from now on. After class, she would need to make a chronological list of all the upcoming events and prioritize them by gravity and necessity if she wished to start changing the future.

"Now, as I was saying, I prepared some concoctions this morning," Professor Slughorn said. "Any ideas what these might be?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss…"

"Granger, Sir," Hermione said, the strong feeling of deja vu taking over. The words simply poured out of her.

"That one there is Veritaserum. It's a truth-telling serum. And this is Amortentia. The most powerful love potion in the world. It's rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them," Hermione continued as she approached the receptacles, inhaling the delicious fumes from Amortentia.

"For example, I smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and…sandalwood," Hermione finished, backing away from the cauldrons.

Sandalwood? I thought it was supposed to be spearmint toothpaste. Hermione panicked. She recalled that perfectly because the toothpaste smell had tipped her off about her feelings for Ron and yet now, she could no longer smell that. The future was already changing. Little by little, bit by bit. In that case, Hermione could do something about it.

Right on cue, Professor Slughorn announced that the student capable of making an acceptable version of the Living Death potion would be rewarded with a tiny vial of Felix Felicis. Looking back, no one managed to produce a good draft apart from Harry while the rest had struggled, following the somewhat misleading instructions in their study books. But that, there, was an opportunity to use her knowledge of the future to her advantage.

What Hermione was about to do was borderline ridiculous yet, when Slughorn gave permission for them to start brewing, Hermione took her books and, marching over to the opposite side of the room, dropped her books on the very table that Draco had picked. She was now in Slytherin territory and everyone stared at her as if she had just embarked on a suicide mission - which was not entirely far-fetched. Blaise and Crabbe exchanged confused looks while Draco was looking at her as if she had sprouted a second head.

"Are you insane?" Pansy Parkinson shrieked, having missed to take her usual spot next to Draco.

"I think you're in the wrong seat, Granger," Draco said, still regarding her with an incredulous look.

Hermione withheld a worn sigh, trying to find the best excuse for her madness.

"Hardly. I don't believe there are any rules against Slytherins sitting together with Gryffindors."

"You and I don't sit together," Draco emphasized, staring her dead in the face.

"Well, I think we'll be alright," she insisted, already preparing her cauldron.

The rest of the boys shrugged but Pansy would not have it. Even Harry was sending her questioning looks from across the room while Ron grimaced in a disgusted manner. She would have some explaining to do after class. Pansy pressed her lips together and tilted her dead in defiance.

"Draco, please tell her to return to her seat."

If there was something Draco loathed, it was to be told what to do, especially by a fellow classmate. The second Pansy uttered her request, Hermione knew Draco would shut her down immediately. His back tensed and didn't even bother to look at her as he delivered his verdict:

"It's just a seat, Pansy. Just go sit someplace else, I'm in no mood to play kindergarten."

A small smile appeared in the corner of Hermione's mouth, a strange feeling of satisfaction taking hold of her as Pansy got told off. But it was far too soon for her to savor her victory. As she began working on her potion, Hermione secretly looked over to Draco's working station. He furrowed his brow in frustration as he struggled with his potion brew. Despite his usual expertise, today seemed to be a challenge beyond his usual mastery, which was to be expected, really; no one had managed to make that brew. Even Harry would have failed if it weren't for Snape's helpful notes.

Still, Hermione remembered the instructions well and could recall what she did wrong and how to correct it and wasted no second in imparting the knowledge to Draco.

"Try crushing it, it will work better," she told him, pointing to the Sopophorous bean. He hesitated for a second, partly wondering if she meant to sabotage him but tried it nonetheless. Draco had been excellent at Potions class and he knew how to identify a perfectly reasonable suggestion. He took the knife adjacent to him and crushed the bean with his blade. In a second, juice started releasing easily.

"Well done, Potter. Your brew is starting to look impressive," Slughorn's praise reached their ears.

"It seems even Potter and Granger are besting me at Potions," Draco said dryly. "The world is going down the gutter."

"I'll take that as a thank you," Hermione said while Draco continued to ignore her and proceeded to work on his potion.

She hated to admit it but he was fascinating to look at. He drew from his years of experience and strict upbringing to summon precise measurements and innate skills. While in his sixth year Draco declined in his studies, the reason was more connected to his inner turmoil than his abilities. He had always been a good student. Second, after herself and she knew that if he spent more time in the library than out causing trouble with Crabbe and Goyle, he would have bested her in some classes. Hermione was about to share another secret indication with him but he managed ahead of her:

"Judging by the murky colour, I'm guessing it needs 13 beans not 12," he remarked cleverly.

"That's right," Hermione whispered, visibly impressed.

Without too much help from her part, Draco succeeded in coaxing the stubborn potion into submission, its color shifting from murky to luminous under their very eyes. In that other version of the past, he had given up just like the rest. Perchance he was victorious this time because she was next to him and he tried to prove a point? He always tried to prove himself if someone was watching which was why Hermione thought her plan could work. If she showed him trust and faith, she could change his perspective and force him to seek help where he would have never thought to look before. It had been a mistake on their part to single out Draco as they did back then. Everyone was against Draco and no one wanted to help - it was no wonder he had felt alone and cornered. All the more reason for her to break through his walls.

"Congratulations. It looks like a proper brew," Hermione told him.

"Thanks," he replied, realizing a second too late he had slipped out of character. He immediately shot her an ugly look as if to compensate for his blunder but it didn't matter, Hermione could finally spot a tiny crack in the wall.

"Alright, let's test out your potions, shall we?" Professor Slughorn clapped his hands, announcing the end of the brewing process. He went over to each and every student, inspecting their potions and delivering disappointing news. When he reached Harry, the potion tested out perfectly as expected and when he finished his rounds with Draco's also successful potion, Slughorn was indeed impressed. He expected no winners and now he had two.

"Well, this is a bit tricky, isn't it? We have two good potions but only one Felix Felicis. I'm afraid only one of you boys will get it," Slughorn announced, arms crossed in thought, wondering which one to hand it over to. Hermione was about to make a suggestion when Draco scoffed next to her.

"Just give it to Potter, I could care less," he uttered, grabbing his books and leaving the classroom without warning.

The students began to murmur in confusion but Slughorn looked relieved. He handed the vial to Harry, congratulating him once more and bringing the class to an end. Everyone else was already packing their stuff and making their way out of the room apart from Hermione. She remained quietly glued to her spot, unable to move nor relax because she just realized something. When Draco left her side and stormed out of the room, she recognized something from before, sneaking up on her in a leathery fragrance and memorable tones. Draco, too, smelled of sandalwood.

OOO

Author's Note

Carly L. Saez: Hi and thank you so much for commenting! I'm glad to see there are still Dramione fans out there so hope you enjoy the story. 3

MidnightMae: Don't worry, I plan on updating quite often, the chapters are basically writing themselves at this point. Thank you for your comment!