Chapter two
Days went by and Hermione was very busy.
They had more homework than ever and the classes became more difficult by the hour.
It was clear that they were in their sixth year, that the educational level was much higher.
She was sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room, together with Harry and Ron.
It was nice and warm here. The fire was crackling peacefully in the fire place and had no trouble in driving out the cold October air.
Hermione was doing her homework for Ancient Runes but was occasionally interrupted by Ron and Harry, asking for help. They were still working on their essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts.
‘I told you, you should have started earlier.’ She said.
Ron gave her an annoyed look and said: ‘how was I supposed to know that we had to write this much? What kind of subject is it anyway, come on, Dementors? Couldn’t Snape find something more interesting?’
‘Well, I’m definitely going to get very low marks on my essay’, Harry said.
‘O Harry, why do you even think that?’
‘I pretty much disagreed with everything Snape said about them, especially with “the best way to tackle a Dementor” part. So I’m sure that it’s not going to be good.’
Hermione rolled her eyes and continued with Ancient Runes, writing eagerly.
Again a soft tap on her arm brought her out of her concentration: ‘what now Ron?’
He ignored the frustration in her voice: ‘ my name isn’t Roonil Wazlib?’
‘ What?’ Hermione pulled his piece of parchment towards her: ‘ no , not last time I checked. And we were asked to write an essay about Dementors , not “Dugbogs”. What’s the matter with you?’
‘It’s not me! It’s this bloody quill!’
‘The quill? You are blaming the quill for your spelling mistakes?’ Hermione couldn’t believe him.
‘It’s not just any quill. It’s one of Fred and George’s Spell-Checking ones…but apparently the charm is wearing off.’
‘Yes, clearly. Hermione chuckled.
All of a sudden, as if on cue, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and two, tall figures emerged through it. They approached their table and before they knew it, two identical faces were grinning at them.
Their red hair seemed lighter thanks to the fire: ‘not talking about us are we?’
‘Fred! George! What are you two doing here?’ Ron exclaimed, but then his face became serious:’ is everything all right with mum and dad?’
‘ O yes , they are absolutely fine.’ Fred said.
‘Even more: they are in perfect health’, George added, ‘we are just here for our classes.’
‘Your …classes...?’
‘Yes little brother, we’ve decided to finish … start over … our seventh year of Hogwarts.’ Fred said.
‘ But… why?’ Ron asked.
‘We thought we would do mum a favour. Maybe if we eventually graduated it would cheer her up. She’s been very tensed lately, with all those Death Eater occurrences in the newspapers…’
It was obvious that Ron didn’t know what to say, he just sat there, his mouth wide open.
‘Once again it looks like you’ll be stuck with us for the rest of the year Ron.’ George grinned.
Ron grumbled indistinctively.
‘ But what about “ Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes” ?’ Harry asked.
‘O don’t worry about the shop; Verity and Norman are looking after it.’
There was a silence and Hermione spoke: ‘ well, I think it’s wonderful that you’ve decided to finish your year.’
Fred smiled at her but George looked surprised. ‘ O… hello Hermione,’ he said, ‘I didn’t see you there.’A blush seemed to have appeared on his face, or was it the glow of the fire? Playing tricks on her eyes?
‘ Hello,’ she said. He came closer, until he stood next to her: ‘what are you working on?’
‘Ancient Runes.’ She simply answered.
He grimaced:’ Ancient Runes huh? How are you doing, by the way?’
Hermione looked up: ‘I’m fine, thank you. Why?’ At this he backed away a little, ruffling his hair with his hand.
‘ O , you know. Just making sure you’re all right. Just casual conversation.’
Hermione pulled up one eyebrow.
‘ But I’m off to bed. Good night.’ He winked at her and went straight to the stairs of the boys’ dormitory.
A few seconds later his brother followed. Hermione frowned, why had George been acting so strange?
But then she shook her head and focused herself back on her homework.
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A week later Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The golden rays of the October sun were shining through the magical ceiling and gave the Hall an orange glow.
She had just finished her breakfast and was flipping through the pages of “The Daily Prophet”.
‘Is there anything in it about someone we know?’ Harry asked her.
Hermione sighed: ‘there are a lot of articles about missing witches and wizards, but no, nothing about someone we know. I swear the “Prophet” is getting thicker by the day. ’
She looked up from the newspaper and noticed something rather odd. At the Slytherin table, Malfoy was sitting separately from his friends. He was quiet and was playing with his food. He also looked paler than usual and he had dark rings under his eyes.
Now Hermione thought about it; he had been acting differently lately. For the first time in five years he had been wandering through the castle on his own. No Crabbe or Goyle by his side, which was very strange.
Also, he had stopped taunting her and her friends, for which she was grateful. Her eyes lingered on him; he seemed sad.
Then, out of nowhere, a pang of pity went through her. But before she knew it, it was gone. She was surprised at this. Did she just actually felt sorry for him? For Malfoy? Hermione you’re being ridiculous, she thought, it must have been your imagination.
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Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking to the dungeon for the afternoon’s double potions.
They entered the classroom and immediately Hermione smelled all kinds of vapours that were filling the room.
She looked around more closely and saw that large, bubbling cauldrons were placed on every table. They chose one of the tables on the first row. A large gold-coloured cauldron stood on it and was emitting one of the most seductive scents.
When they had taken their places professor Slughorn walked to the front of the class and smiled at the students.
‘Welcome everyone, will you all please take out your scales and your books of “AdvancedPotion-Making”, so we can start the lesson.’
Muttering sounded, as everyone took out the needed things. After a few minutes it was silent and professor Slughorn went on: ‘today is going to an interesting class. As you can see I’ve brewed a few potions and I want you all to have a look at them. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. I’m sure that you’ve heard of all of them, even if you haven’t made them yet. Now, who can tell me what this potion is?’
He gestured at the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table.
Hermione raised herself in her seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling inside it. Her hand shot in the air. ‘ yes , miss Granger.’
‘ It’s Veritaserum professor. A potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth.’
‘Very good! Now what’s in that one?’ Professor Slughorn indicated the cauldron behind them. Again Hermione put up her hand. Slughorn smiled at her: ‘ yes?’
‘ That’s Polyjuice Potion, sir.” Out of the corner of her eye she looked at Ron and Harry. They had to suppress a smile since they were very familiar with this particular potion.
‘You are quite right my dear, ten points for Gryffindor!’ The professor started walking, until he stood in front of their table.
‘Now, this potion is curious, it may even be one of the more dangerous potions, you see, it…’ before he could finish his sentence Hermione’s hand punched the air for a third time.
Slughorn looked at her, rather bemused:’ yes miss Granger?’
‘ It’s Amortentia!’
‘ Excellent! Do you know what it does?’
She nodded and said:’ it’s the most powerful love potion in the world. You can recognise it at the mother-of-pearl sheen and the steam rising in characteristic spirals. It’s also supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. For example: I can smell freshly mown grass, new parchment and mint.’
‘Extraordinary! Take another ten points for Gryffindor!’ Slughorn bellowed. ‘But now it’s time for us to start brewing!’
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‘Amazing Hermione!’ Ron said, as they were walking out of the Potions’ classroom.
‘Yes, you’ve earned us twenty points, now we’re ten points ahead of Slytherin!’ Harry agreed with his friend.
‘You should’ve seen the expression on Zabini and Parkinson’s faces, it was to die for!’ Ron grinned.
Hermione didn’t know what to say, so she just smiled at them. Then she frowned at the lightness of her schoolbag. She stopped walking and unzipped it. She peered into it and noticed that one of her books was missing.
‘Hey guys, I think I forgot my copy of “Advanced Potion-Making”. I’ll better go and get it.’
‘ Do you want us to wait here for you?’
‘ No, it’s ok. You go, I’ll catch up.’ She turned away from them and strolled back to the classroom. Hermione was about to enter when someone else came from the other direction and bumped into her.
A sudden drift of freshly mown grass floated towards her, the same scent she had picked up earlier, during class. Hermione looked up and saw the person it was coming from.
‘I’m sorry’, Draco Malfoy muttered, lost in his own thoughts. Her eyes followed him as he walked away.
Hermione just stood there, frozen, as if a PetrificusTotalus spell had been cast over her.
She couldn’t believe that he had apologised to her. Then she blushed fiercely as she thought about the Potions’ lesson: ‘It is supposed to smell different to each of us,according to what attracts us...I can smell freshly mown grass.’
It couldn’t possibly be. It must be coincidence.
Was she attracted to Malfoy? No , she wasn’t, that would be impractical.
Or was she? Amortentia wasn’t exactly known for deceiving the person who smelled its odour.
The seconds went by and Hermione still hadn’t moved a muscle, she was perplexed.