Year Seven:Blindsided

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or places they belong to the wonderful
J. K. Rowling: It is her world I just play in it.


Chapter 7- Promises and Potions


Draco was beyond thrilled that he no longer had to live among the other members of Slytherin House. It seemed to him that he was finally free to behave as he wanted to, rather than as was expected of him. He thought that he could grow quite accustomed to his newfound liberty. Draco was learning the duties of his position as Head-boy, and it seemed that there was no shortage of them. He put the scroll he was reading aside when he’d finished reading it.


Draco felt that the benefits of his position far outweighed his responsibilities. One of the largest benefits, a condensed class schedule, meant he would be given more freedom to explore the specific areas of magic in which he was most interested. It had been the tradition at Hogwarts for the Head-boy and girl to receive an education in subjects too obscure and specialized to be taught en masse. Thus, a great deal of independent study was required of the Head-boy and girl each year.


The best part of this year, to Draco’s mind, was that he would be allowed access to the Restricted Section of the library whenever he wanted, without a signed note from a teacher. A wealth of information at his fingertips! This was a dream come true, he could pursue both his passions and whims with equal fervor and privacy. During his first six years at Hogwarts, Draco had found it to be nearly impossible to find a quiet corner in which he could study.


Well, maybe that was the second best thing about this year; he was living with Hermione. Draco smiled broadly as he reclined on the oversized four-poster bed that would be his for the school year. Living and working with Hermione was the best way to get to know her, as well as to woo her. The truly ingenious part of his master plan to ensnare the heart of the lithe and beautiful object of his affection was that he could win her slowly. He was nothing, if not patient. The very idea that he would see Her every day gave strength to his resolve. He took a deep breath, which filled his nose with the soft potpourri of old furniture and freshly cut lavender and closed his eyes with the hope that he would see her momentarily.


Hermione sighed as she walked among the crowd of younger students. The cacophonous tattoo of so many feet echoing off of the marble floored entrance hall was almost hypnotic; Hermione had not realized that she had come to the portrait of the Fat Lady, which was the doorway to the Gryffindor common room. Ginny shot her a surprised glance. When the last of the underclassman had entered through the portrait hole Ginny called the Head-girl over to her.


“Harry! Hermione, nothing is wrong with liking Harry. I always thought that you two would make a smashing couple. Then, when you started to date my brother, I thought that it wouldn’t ever happen. Don’t get me wrong, Ron is my brother and I love him, but what could you have seen in him?”


“He made me feel beautiful, and special. No one had ever done that before, or since.”


“So, what’s all this about Harry then?”


“It isn’t Harry. Even if it was, I would never do that to Ron.”


“Good to know. I’m sorry I yelled at you Hermione. But you still haven’t explained about what happened at the feast,” said Ron sulkily as his gangly limbs came spilling out from the portrait hole.


“Well,” Hermione began, “I guess that it is a good thing that the two of you are here, that way I won’t have to repeat myself. I was using Harry to make the guy I like jealous. I do love Harry, but I could never be in love with him. I don’t want to hurt him, so I’ll just try to avoid him for a few days. Hopefully he’ll forget about me by then.” Ron relaxed visibly. Ginny just looked confused and then suddenly very pleased with herself. There was a loud crash from inside the common room, all three of them jumped.


“I have to get back inside,” said Ron, “and good luck with whoever he is.” Ron kissed Hermione on the cheek and hopped back into the common room.


“I don’t think he’d say that if he knew who it was.”


“Did you know that he was glaring daggers at the two of you the whole meal?” Ginny asked.


“Yeah, I knew Ron would be mad, but…”


“Not Ron. Him. Your ‘mystery man’.”


“So, you figured it out?”


“I know the look of someone who doesn’t want anyone to figure out who she likes, but Malfoy? That is why you thought it was so funny that I thought that he was cute. Oh, you weren’t kidding, that is bad. If it makes you feel any better he was doing the same thing with that horrible little pug of a bitch Pansy.”


“You have got to be kidding me? He could never look at me…Ginny you have gone off your nut. I really need sleep save me a seat at breakfast tomorrow will you?”


“Sure. Don’t worry I won’t say anything, I promise,” Ginny said with a wink as she disappeared into the Gryffindor common room.


Hermione found her way back through the dark and desolate halls of the castle to the suite of the Head-boy and girl. She gave the password, “Captialis Pensum,” and she crept quietly up the staircase to her room, which was marked with a highly polished gold plaque that read: “Hermione Granger, Head-girl Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 1996-1997”. She ran her fingers over the letters before she opened the door to her room.


“Wow!” she said into the cavernous and richly appointed room. Though she was more than awed by the stunning chamber she wished for nothing more, at that moment, than to climb into her bed and greet the sandman.


She pulled the covers back and was surprised to see a scroll tied with a green silk ribbon and a long stemmed white rose. Hermione sat on her bed, unfurled the scroll and read the immaculate writing in tiny letters:


In all the years I’ve known you
I never had the courage to say
How much you mean to me
In every single way

From the very first night it seems
Your elegant spirit has haunted my dreams

In your eyes, beautiful and true
I pray to see my love reflected someday
My darling, hear my plea
Else will my world be ever gray

For you, my dearest, I will wait
You are my love, my one soul mate


It was not signed and she did not recognize the handwriting. Hermione stared at the scroll in her hand utterly baffled; who had written it, and how had said person managed to get it into her room? She scanned the rest of the room and found that nothing was amiss. Hermione decided, that no matter who was behind this curious surprise, that she would find no answers until the next morning at the very earliest. She crawled under the covers and managed to sleep, despite her misgivings.


Draco awoke the next morning and made sure to preen carefully, in case he was to see Hermione before he left for breakfast. As he exited his room he heard muffled sounds coming from her room and decided to wait for her to immerge, but he must also be cautious. He had to use discretion in order not to appear too eager to be in her company, lest he give the game away at this early stage. Draco had promised himself that he would not take any risks that might jeopardize the success of his plan to win Hermione’s heart.


Hermione had slept comfortably in her gigantic new bed. She dressed quickly and left her room. She got to the portrait hole before she remembered that she had forgotten her daily potion. She slipped back into her room and rummaged in her things for the tiny vial containing the potion. After she found it she left her room once more, with the vial in her left hand and her books for Potions in the other. This time Hermione found that Draco was already in the common room and headed for breakfast, his books in hand.


To her surprise Draco held the portrait aside for her, a very chivalrous gesture for someone like him. She managed to bite back a harsh comment that voiced her speculation as to why he’d assist her. She smiled instead. To her surprise he smiled back. He then hurried along the corridor leaving her alone with the stunned expression she wore on her face.


Draco finished his breakfast hurriedly so that he could make a visit to the library before Potions. He decided to try and make some money by selling mild love potions to the underclassmen. He found the book he’d wanted and walked briskly to the dungeon where Snape taught Independent Study of Advanced Potion Making to the Head-boy and girl.


Neither Snape nor Hermione looked up at he entered the dungeon. Hermione looked to be organizing and taking inventory of her supplies. No, she was just preparing to make an incredibly difficult potion. Draco was not sure that he wanted to know what it would do when she was finished with it. Apparently he had not found his seat quickly enough, “Mr. Malfoy, were you planning on beginning your work anytime soon, or would you prefer to stare at Miss Granger all day?” Draco blushed a deep scarlet and turned his face from Hermione. She was grateful that he turned away; she felt her cheeks flush as well.


“Sorry Professor.”


“I have a request of you Draco.”


“Sir?”


“Madam Pomfrey has requested that I make the potions on these lists for her to replenish her stores for the school year. I told her that you and Miss Granger were more than equal to the task, and that she could expect the lot of them twice as quickly if two people were working on them. You do not need to use your personal stores, the school will incur the cost of obtaining any ingredients for which you find you have a need.” Draco nodded. His profits would have to wait for at least a week. He set to work on his list of potions. An indeterminate amount of time later Snape cleared his throat to make an announcement.


“I have a class of first year students in twenty minutes. I trust that regardless of your personal differences that you will be able to work together? You are the brightest students I have ever taught, which means that I shall hold you to a higher standard than other students. I will not tolerate slacking or horseplay from either of you. If you require assistance please ask each other before you seek me out and disrupt my class.” With that strict proclamation Snape left the two of them alone.


“That man has a way of giftwrapping an insult in a compliment,” said Draco shaking his head.


“Don’t I know it,” said Hermione making eye contact with him. An awkward silence followed her statement. Draco could not think of a way to make the situation any less tense. He decided to return to the list Snape had given him.


Draco began to assemble the ingredients for the first potion when he realized that Hermione had already begun working on that potion. “Granger, how shall we divide the potions on the list?” he asked, trying carefully not to meet her eyes.


“We could alternate. I’d take the odd numbers and you could take the even ones. How does that sound?”


“Alright. But it looks as though a few of these will need two people.”


“I don’t think we need to worry about that until we encounter one.” Hermione was so sensible; Draco loved that about her. It was rare to find a girl who refused to dumb herself down in order to be attractive to boys at such a young age. She was better, by far, than Pansy. Pansy was always following him everywhere he went and would change her thoughts on the subject he was talking about to agree with his opinion to the letter.


Hermione’s thoughts were on the author of the mysterious poem she had received. She could not think of any way to narrow down the number of people from whom it could have come. At least it wasn’t Harry; she’d know his untidy scrawl anywhere. It wasn’t Ron, because he’s a puff. Then an unpleasant thought struck her, it could be Pansy’s little sister, the one Draco was tormenting last night. Or maybe it was Neville; he’d be the type to mistake years of kindness for affection. She felt a sneeze coming on and could not cover her nose and mouth, as her hands were covered in things no one would want on his or her face. “Ka-Choo, Ka-Choo.”


“Are you alright Granger?” Draco asked with a hint more concern than he’d intended in his voice.


“I think I must be allergic to one of the ingredients in this potion,” she sniffled. Draco crossed the room and handed her his handkerchief. It was soft white silk and was monogrammed with the initials D and M in shining green thread.


“You can leave that in the common room when you are done with it. Oh, don’t move…”


“What? Why?”


“Close your eyes. Don’t worry, I don’t bite unless asked, Granger.”


Hermione closed her eyes reluctantly and Draco raised his right hand and delicately plucked an eyelash from her cheek. Her skin was so soft; it felt like spun silk. He wished he could freeze this moment in time, the moment her first touched her skin. He considered leaning forward to kiss her, but she opened her eyes before he could gather the nerve to do so. “You had an eyelash, just there, on your cheek,” he said as he pointed to her cheek with the lash still between his fingers.


Hermione flashed him a small smile, which he returned. She looked into his eyes for the first time and did not see what she expected to see. She saw a beautiful person, wounded and battered. A person who was hiding in a shell for fear of being put through further pain. She touched him lightly on the shoulders and closed her eyes as she leaned forward…


An instant before the two pair of lips could touch Snape thundered back into the dungeon, in a foul mood. He eyed the two of them suspiciously. “It is time that you wash up for lunch, on your way.”


They walked back to the common room, neither daring to speak of what had nearly happened.