Chapter 4 : Trolls with a hint of Love Potions
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“The Christmas party’s coming!” squealed a vaguely familiar voice.
“Yeah, and all we need now is for Harry to take one of us!” giggled a different voice.
“Do you reckon we could slip him a love potion? We could order some from Weasley’s Wheezes...” suggested the familiar voice Hermione recognized as Romilda Vane.
“He’d have to be, like, really thick to eat something we offer him. What do boys eat anyways?”
“Firewhisky, Chocolate Cauldrons, Gillywater, Cauldron Cakes...”
And the list seemed to drone on forever. Finally, the fourth years departed the bathroom, and Hermione came out of the cubicle, having fits of laughter. She had to tell Harry. She trotted up the stairs, to the Owlery, and then questioned herself – why was she trotting? Walking the rest of the way.
As she entered, she heard a male voice: “Make sure Mother gets this, okay Dipper?”
The voice belonged to Malfoy. Hermione was quite surprised at the warm tone he had used. She continued her way into the Owlery, taking the Oh-I-Didn’t-See-You-There-Malfoy approach. She chose an owl, and attached the letter to it, sending it off. As she turned around, she saw a brown, furry, screech owl gliding towards her. It held a piece of parchment, and carefully placed in into Hermione’s hand, and then finally returned to its cage.
She suspiciously opened it, and read it, taking in every word.
Hermione slowly scanned the Owlery, and the shadow of a smile on her face turned into an ear-to-ear grin, when she realized that she was now alone in the room.
For the first time in weeks, Draco ate to his heart’s content, he even laughed at Goyle’s stupidity from the heart. Apologizing, lifted a huge burden from his heart. Oh bloody hell, everything tonight was coming from his heart.
After a night filled with joy, Draco returned to his dorm to find another surprise. Two, neatly rolled pieces of parchment lay on his bed; one tied with a lone black ribbon. Draco recognized this as his mothers. He unrolled it, and read:
I hope you are finding school okay, and pray your task is going strong.
Remember, Professor can help you.
Your Mother, Narcissa.
Not in this lifetime Mother, Draco thought. Snape can go to hell.
The boy turned to the next roll of parchment. Nervously opening it, as he could see familiar curvy printing inside, he read once more:
Last I checked, we weren’t on first name terms.
Just pulling your wand, I guess.
P.S. Eat something you troll, you look dead.
Once more he placed the note in his chest pocket, still stealing glances at it as he pulled the curtains on his four-poster bed, even though he was sure to have the note memorized by now. He didn’t know why, after years of hating her and all people of her kind, why he was so attracted to her. It was this maddening attraction, taunting him for not realizing how beautiful she really was. Draco felt happy just at the sight of her, and was able to get through the day knowing he had just looked at a Muggle-born, and thought that she was gorgeous, for it was defying everything his father had stood for. After tossing and turning, he then drifted off to a Hermione filled sleep.
When Hermione returned to the Common Room, she once again saw Ron and Lavender wrapped around each other; the usual amount of lip action. For some reason though, she wasn’t bothered, not the slightest bit of fury.
Her mind was glued on Draco’s note, and so was her hand apparently, for she was clutching it ever so tightly. She felt joyful to the point that it was weird, but it wasn’t every day Malfoy apologized to a Muggle-born.
Draco’s face kept on flashing in front of her, and Merlin was he beautiful.
As she pulled the covers up to her chin, she went through the same thoughts Draco had went through nights ago (of course she didn’t know that.) Hermione and Draco. Granger and Malfoy. Hermione... Malfoy? Hermione Malfoy. That sounded right. The more she thought about it, the giddier she felt, and finally was able to sleep, in a very Draco-filled night.
Draco was lost. Draco didn’t know what to do, what to say. ... How to approach Hermione while trying to resist the urge to kiss her... He kept rereading Hermione’s reply, hoping it would give him some clue. But no matter how many times he read it, he still hadn’t got a clue of what to do next.
“...Apology accepted...” That was a start, Draco thought. He loved how she was undoubtedly brilliant and quick witted, even in her note (which was oozing with sexuality, he thought shrewdly.)
But, they couldn’t exactly be friends with the out the Dark Lord killing him with a flick of the wand – not that Draco was important enough to be killed by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, the Dark Lord would probably get Aunt Bella to do it, she couldn’t careless that she was murdering her nephew. Draco thought she had a weird crush on the Lord anyways.
The best way to approach Granger was to write another note, but he decided against that when a voice in his head said, “Well, you don’t exactly want to be pen pals with her...”
Draco heaved a deep, long sigh, and drew out his quill, and wrote:
And I’ll eat. Would you care to join me? I’m only kidding, I swear. I can joke too.
He sent the owl after rushing to the Owlery, realizing it was time to retreat to the Room of Requirement.
A barn owl nibbled affectionately on Hermione’s finger, as Crookshanks hissed at it in jealousy, then purred as she pushed the owl aside, beginning to read.
A grin formed on her face, thought it was short lived when she heard Lavender exclaim, “WON WON! I’m – gonna – tickle – YOU!” as she reached underneath Ron’s jumper. Laughter followed the gesture, the red haired boy twitching on the carpet.
With a grimace, Hermione rolled up her parchment, gathered her books and head out to the library to meet Harry.
She sat down at a table, and took out her Potion’s essay, and got down to work, shortly joined by Harry. For several minutes, they worked in silence, until Harry spoke up.
“You’re not mad are you Hermione? About Ron snogging Lavender?” asked Harry gently.
She then snapped by telling him that Ron has perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes, and that she really couldn't care less. There were again moments of silence, until Hermione told him that he, incidentally, needed to be careful.
Of course Harry thought that she was talking about his clearly filled-with-dark-magic textbook, but was quite surprised when she told him about the girls in the bathroom.
“Of course they only want to go with you because they think you’re the Chosen One,” she added.
“But I am the Chosen One!”
He then demanded why, she, Hermione hadn’t confiscated the love potions as she was a Prefect. She then filled him in the Twin’s Owl Order Service, causing Harry to quickly start on why Malfoy couldn’t have brought the necklace. Not that again.. she thought
Sighing in defeat, Hermione began, “Look, Secrecy Sensors detect jinxes, curses and concealment charms don’t they? They’re used to find dark magic and dark objects... But something that’s just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn’t register.”*
Hermione’s eye flickered to a spot behind the shelves, where she could’ve sworn she just saw a flash of pale blond hair disappear behind.
“ – and anyway, love potions aren’t Dark or dangerous,” finished Hermione.*
“Easy for you to say,” muttered Harry.*
She smiled impatiently and then continued on saying how it would then be down to Filch to realise it wasn’t a cough potion, and he’s not a very good wizard.
Hermione stopped dead, so did Harry.
Madam Pince had heard. The old, scrawny librarian snarled at Harry's textbook, causing Hermione to hastily grab her things, and frogmarch him away.
Hermione berated Harry on why he had to bring the book, who then retorted by saying that Madam Pince only got mad because she and Filch had something going on between them, making Hermione laugh.
They continued to argue about whether Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love, when they reached the portrait door.
“Baubles,” said Harry.
“Same to you,” said the Fat Lady, swinging forward to admit them.
Hermione gave Harry a What-did-I-tell-you look, when Romilda Vane thrusted a box of Chocolate Cauldrons in his hands, claiming they were filled with Firewhisky.
“More like a love potion,” murmured Hermione, as Harry hurried behind her. Hermione had just began telling Harry off, saying that this all would go away as soon as he asked someone when she spotted something she highly wished she hadn't.
Hermione turned blank. Ron and Lavender were entwined in an armchair by the fire. Before her face could contort in fury, she bid Harry goodnight, without another word for her dormitory, even though it was only seven.
* - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling, chapter 15 - The Unbreakable Vow. The conversation between Harry and Hermione was all paraphrased from Chapter 15. iBook version.
AN: ERMAHGERD! Another chapter done! I know, I know, where's the kiss? It's coming soon. Whenever I get typing, the process seems to drone on and on... and I really don't know how fanfiction authors write 8000 words every month *bows down many times* I saw I had around 500 reads, which all I'd like to say is THANK YOU! And 3 reviews! Whether it's critism, or encouragement, it is greatly appreciated. Spotted any mistakes? Include them in the review! It only makes it easier for me:) Shoutout to Loony, hi, and lindslo2012 who gave me my first three reviews - they will be cherished.
Edited - 28/11/2013
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