Dramione❤️

Chapter 2: Liquid Luck

Slughorn beams, happy with my answer and continues: "Amortentia doesn't create actual love as that would be impossible. But it can cause powerful infatuation of obsession." Love is already a very powerful concoction. Imagine when you mix it with a potion... "Now, you will all prepare the 'Draught of Living Death' and to the student who manages to make it within an hour in acceptable conditions will win..." Slughorn says as he raises a vial with a golden, shimmering liquid inside it: "Felix felicis. The reason and creator of your luckiest, most wonderful days." The luck potion. I must have that. I really would need that.

We all start rushing through our instructions, cutting one Sopophorous bean without any luck. Why doesn't the juice come out? I try and try again and it does not work. I carefully adjust the bean on the desk, clutching the knife in one, with its points firmly held agains the bean's shell. I then lower the knife and try to drag it down to open the bean but the bean shoots up and I have failed again. Ok, this is frustrating. I look over the rest of the room and everyone struggles, keeping the bean still to empty it of its content. Everyone, except for Harry who presses the silver dagger in his hand slightly onto the bean, releasing its juices. 

"The instructions specifically say to cut. How did you do it?" I ask Harry who only manages to blabber: "No, really..." Whatever. I press as he told me and am surprised to notice that it has worked. How did I not think about it? Ok. What's next? I add the next ingredient but my cauldron begins to overflow. Not to mention, Lavender continues staring at Ron and my hair is growing like a bush. I look back at Harry, confident in his ability, who keeps on adding ingredients and mixing as if he had done this recipe a million times before. I am annoyed because I study all recipes endlessly and know all the steps by memory so why is it that my potion is not working and Harry's is? "Ouch." I hear someone swear behind me. I turn and see Malfoy who just cut his finger. He sneers at me. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He whispers. "What makes you think I wanted to help you?" He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I don't waste my time with Muggle-borns like you." I sigh, used to being called that way for ages now and almost, just almost, getting over it. "I didn't want to help you but grab some Dittany plant from the cupboard. Dab it over the cut." I say and turn my back to him again, focusing back on my failing recipe. I hear him get up behind me, reluctantly and uncertain about whether or not to trust me. I look at Harry and Ron but both luckily never noticed me talking to Malfoy as they were too intent in making their potions work. 

"Psst." I hear Draco call from behind. "It worked." He stared at me with his piercing, grey eyes. "Thank you." He says, impassively. "By the way, nice hair." He smirked and got back to his potion, which was not working, just like everyone else's. I blush as I realize my hair had gotten even bushier than before. I turn around immediately but realize Harry had finished. I don't understand. He doesn't even like Potions. How could he have known? Slughorn is bewildered at Harry's accomplishment and hands him the vial proud and flabbergasted. "Well done, m'boy." The bittersweet and odd feeling of Harry having done better than me in class pervades me and I turn around, looking for comfort in the faces around me. Especially, I turn around to see Draco, who had already left as soon as the lesson had ended. 

***

The help I have given Ron during the Quidditch tryouts was not encouraged by my feelings for him. I think it was more help towards a friend. As we sit in the Common Room tonight, I truly believe that obviously my help was valuable but that Ron truly deserved the role and so that the slight push that I gave him was not essential but useful. 

"Has a bit of a thing for you, Hermione. Cormac."

"He's vile." I say, as I try to retain my disgust. How could he ever believe that I could like someone like Cormac. Someone so arrogant, so full of himself. I could never prefer someone like that to someone genuinely concerned with my wellbeing, asking me how I am, what I'm afraid of, what I would like to do tomorrow, together... 

I knew it! I knew Harry could not have done the recipe on his own. I think the boy is smart, I really do, but my knowledge of Potions is quite advanced and even I didn't know how to work with what Slughorn had given us. I cannot believe that Harry's book is covered in notes, advice, scribbles from the previous owner of this Potions book. This doesn't make sense. Who would leave such a precious book in the classroom? We sit and discuss as we habitually do as friends about who we think this Half-Blood Prince is but we cannot quite grasp the identity of this "Prince". It literally could be anyone who has attended Hogwarts, making it almost impossible for us to figure out his true identity. As we go off to bed, our minds rushing with thoughts, tossing and turning, I try and make a list in my head of people that book could've belonged to. I take off my uniform, wear my night clothes and brush my teeth, just like mum and dad have taught me so well to do. Up and down. Right and left. Up and down again. I can almost imagine my mother scorning me: "If you don't brush your teeth properly, you'll get tooth decay. And baby, you can't fix that with magic." Her hands on her hips, shoulders held high and firm head. Then her eyes look up to the ceiling: "At least, I think..." I really do miss my parents. I tuck myself under the covers. I start to close my eyes. Was my hair really bad today in class? Was I that embarrassing? Who is the Half-Blood Prince? All these thoughts keep me awake and before I know it, I am walking down the steps of Hogwarts' corridors to reach the library. 

As I walk past one of the weakly illuminated corridors, I hear some footsteps. I halt to a stop and hide behind one of the columns; I hope it isn't one of the Professors. I can't be seen out of bed at this time otherwise it could ruin my immaculate reputation. I breath in rapidly and exhale. The footsteps are approaching. I peak around the column to see who it is and am relieved, in a certain sense, to see it is only... Draco. Ok, there's no need to hide behind the column now. I slowly walk from behind the column and act natural, as if I always walked around school at this time of the night. I don't want to stare so I look down and hope our eyes don't meet. I hope he might, thanks to some weird Law of Physics, not see me. My pace is solid and steady. I promise I'm going to be really quick at the library, I just need to find something on the Half-Blood Prince then I'll go off to bed as soon as my thoughts quieten down. 

"And what would you be doing up at such an hour, Miss Granger?" Says Malfoy disgusted, looking at me from top to bottom.

"I could ask you the same thing but... I genuinely don't care." I say, as I attempt to walk straight ahead and away from him as far as possible. I'll just be a second at the library, I promise. Please, just help me get away from him. 

"At least your hair looks a bit better now." He says, starting to walk away further from me. I could have sworn I almost heard him laughing. We both go separate ways.