You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 1: Chapter One
Potions. If it had been any other year, I would have half-enjoyed it. Even if Snape had been teaching us, which is saying something. I cannot bear to come second best to Harry again. Yes, I admit it; I'm jealous. Not of his potion-making- far from it- but the fact he's cheating with that stupid Half-Blood Prince book. There is no way on earth Harry would ever give it up. He always has some sort of excuse as to why he needs it. Oh of course, he needs to suck up to Slughorn for that memory. Honestly, it will not work.
I had barely walked into the room before stifling a giggle at a completely mad Pansy Parkinson and indifferent Draco Malfoy sitting at their table. He looked so helpless... of course he does, Pansy is like a leech on him. Harry, who was already at our table, unpacking, smiled to himself when he noticed Pansy's shrieks and whines. I forgot this entertaining show the two Slytherins have put on, and purposefully gave Harry a glowering look, which he blatantly ignored as he set up his cauldron.
"Look Hermione, you're a good enough witch yourself, so I don't see why-"
"Forget it, Harry. I couldn't care less anymore."
I hate being so cold towards him. It's not like he, himself, has done anything wrong; it's just my envy of his praise. I sighed, knowing that I shouldn't get in an argument with him. I couldn't afford to lose him as a best friend. Ron's already in a grump with me over Slughorn's parties. I didn't want to cheat either. I was far above that.
"Today, students, we'll be making an advanced version of the Befuddlement Draught. Books out, quickly." Professor Slughorn, his cheery round self, was slightly bemused by the daft expression on Pansy's face.
Finely slicing my Gurdyroots, thirty minutes through, I knew there would be no point in trying today. Where had my hard-working mind gone? I glanced at Harry again, whose head was so close to the Advanced Potion-Making textbook that I really wanted to whack him with it. No, again, I was far above that.
"Hmm?" He didn't even look up. This gave me a sudden inspiration.
I hid another smirk, and continue with my potion, following the printed (not handwritten and untrustworthy) instructions of my textbook, as my potion turned a pleasant cerise colour. Harry's was also the same colour, well... not for long.
Slipping a porcupine quill into Harry's concoction, I hoped it wouldn't cause anything to drastic to happen. No one was watching, not even Ron, who was coughing through a thick purple smoke issuing from his potion. It instantly turned a deep ivy green, which I smiled at, knowing anything else he did with the potion afterwards wouldn't work.
"Hermione-" Harry began. Oh no, he must have seen me smile.
He had barely covered himself before the potion exploded, causing his arms to be splattered with a green plastic, paint-like substance. I gasped, but it was drowned out by the laughs and jeers coming from the Slytherin table. His face was fine, but his shirt was covered in the stuff, along with some flecks in his hair, and I didn't want to laugh at all. I felt terribly guilty, and Slughorn made it all the more worse.
"Well, Harry, this is a shock, but it seems that you won't be getting a mark for this."
Harry looked at me furiously for a few seconds, which went unnoticed by anyone but me, and I bit my lip quietly. I don't see why I should give myself up for his ignorance!
"Actually-" He started. I threw a pleading look at him, desperate not to get in trouble. I'm a prefect for Merlin's sake! He paused, his expression strange. "No, I guess I just wasn't concentrating, sir."
I sighed with relief, and promised to myself that I would make it up to him. It wasn't as if he hadn't been humiliated enough in any of Snape's lessons before, anyway. The bell went, but I didn't move, as everyone else began to pack up. Malfoy continued to make petty insults at Harry, just within earshot, but I ignored them.
"You coming?" Ron asked, but Harry was still trying to clear his cauldron, and I didn't want to leave without apologising.
"I'll see you at lunch, Ron. You go ahead." I replied, packing up my wand and quill slowly.
"Right, see you later then."
Harry and I were the only two left in the potions room. Slughorn had left already for lunch. Harry didn't say anything to me, or look at me at all, but his expression was still confusing. I sat back down cautiously, my bag still open upon the table. I didn't know what to say.
"Why did you do that?" He finally said, angrily. "Were you green with envy, then?"
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean for that to happen. That book is dangerous though. Harry, don't you realise-"
"Hermione, just drop the act. You can't stand the fact that for once I'm better at you in a subject." He interrupted, bitterly.
I could not believe what I was hearing. How could he accuse me of caring more about my grades than my friend's wellbeing? I really wish I had hit him over the head. Right now, he deserved it. Knowing I would end up arguing against that statement, I kept quiet for a few moments, constantly scowling.
"Harry. I do not care about your Outstanding grades right now. This obsession- don't you see that it's just Riddle's diary all over again?"
"You're wrong. The Prince-"
"The Prince?" I scoffed, letting loose my anger at him for being so ignorant.
"That Levicorpus spell has nothing to do with it! Everyone used it, even my-"
"Your dad, he was just as irresponsible as you're being."
I don't know what made me say it. For a second, I didn't even think I said it at all. I did know, however, that Harry had taken it the wrong way. He stared at me, his eyes harsh as he did so. Standing up, he was bare inches away from me. Threateningly. I didn't bat an eyelid.
"Don't." He pointed his wand at me.
"Say." He wavered for a moment.
"That again." He stood back, and reached for his bag again, wanting to leave the room as quickly as possible. I had definitely struck a nerve.
Actions speak louder than words. I thought, and before Harry realised, I grasped the book out of the corner of his bag and ran for it. I'm not quite sure why I had done this, but at least it would prove that he couldn't use it to cheat in Potions. I kept running, completely unaware of how far ahead I was, as long as I could keep it away from him. I turned suddenly, into the shortcut behind a tapestry and found myself on the seventh floor.
Ah, the Room of Requirement! I knew Harry would eventually be able to get into the Room, but there were plenty of hiding places. Once inside, I searched throughout the maze of abandoned old objects for a safe place to conceal the Potions book, yet sure there was someone behind me also.
"Hermione! Fine, I'm sorry!"
I crouched beside an old cabinet, which I recognised from a few years previously. True, I could have had time to cast a Disillusionment charm, but it had completely slipped my mind. I sat down for several moments, before a hand grabbed out from behind me, clasping over my mouth. The last amount of breath I had was used to scream, which was muffled instantly. I felt a wand being drawn at my throat, and I raised my hands in surrender, trying to turn my head to see who was holding me, but I couldn't see in the dark that ensued.
"Harry!" I struggled for a while before I saw him at the other end of the row of shelves. He didn't hear or see me.
Eventually, whoever was keeping me captive, had slackened their grip, obviously more worried about Harry than me. That's just one of the problems of being Harry's friend, among several others. I felt for my wand in my pocket, which went unnoticed. In one swift movement I pushed myself back against the wall and aimed a jinx at the silhouette behind me, which in turn toppled over.
I gasped and span around, ready to aim again. It was Harry. He rushed towards me, at first, I thought, but instead was pointing his wand at the unmoving body on the floor. The light from his lumos spell proved the person to be Draco Malfoy. What was he doing here? Was Harry right about this too: Had Malfoy been made a Death Eater, to stay within the school? If this is really so dangerous and important, should I let Harry use the book to help him and Dumbledore?
"Harry, I- I'm truly sorry. I never meant to say that about your father."
Harry looked back at me. His eyes locked onto mine. I reached down and picked up the Half-Blood Prince's book at my feet, cautious of whether to hand it to him. He still looked at me, as if I was insane to be acting fairly normal after the event, and pulled me into a hug. I could feel he was extremely sorry, for everything, as was I. Neither of us wanted to argue anymore. When we parted from the hug, I felt a sudden tug in my heart...
I loved it when he said my name. He was always ready to fight for what he thought was right, regardless of what I, or anyone else, usually thought. He never gave up. That was why he wouldn't let go of the book.
We were so close, I noticed that the specs of green in his hair were just like the emerald green of his eyes. And he kissed me, his lips pressing passionately against mine. I let the book fall from my hand, and wrapped my arms around his neck. He didn't show any recognition of the book thudding on the floor.
And there I was thinking he was just a little green-eyed monster in Potions.