I was walking to class with Hermione, Ron, and Harry, our casual talk about Quidditch, or chess. I could hear their voices, and I could see their lips moving, but I knew I wasn't listening. My mind was still wrapped around the very confusing dream I had last night. There was no way I would dream about Malfoy, but seeing him like that, in such a vulnerable position, even in the dream, made my heart flutter.
I didn't know he could be vulnerable. Yes, he was, quite a fool as a child, but as he grew, as he matured, the personality differences became quite vibrant. I could see the changes, and I wasn't trying to, they were just right in my face.
He was calmer now, and he broke into fewer fights. He still kept his reputation as a ruthless bully, but instead of a smirk on his face, he now kept a gentle smile. A smile was there, but it was meaningless. It had no emotions. No matter how much I tried to read it, I couldn't.
"Really? I didn't know that." Ron said, with an eyebrow raised, and lips puckered, in a face of realization.
"Know what?" I asked, not knowing the question.
"What a psychopath is," Hermione told me.
Well, that's ironic.
"And why are we talking about psychopaths?"
"Because it's interesting. Did you know psychopaths are diagnosed at age 15? So one of us could be one, without knowing," Ron said, followed by an exaggerated gasp, "maybe I'm one."
"No, Ronald. A psychopath is unable to feel emotion or empathy. I killed a fly last night and you and Harry had an entire funeral."
"That fly helped me in my hard times!" Ron chimed, huffing and crossing his arms, as the rest of us chuckled.
"You know who would make a good psychopath?" Harry said. "Arabel."
I snapped my head in his direction, with my eyebrows raised. "You arse, I officiated that funeral. I was there to wipe both of your tears. Plus, it's not something to joke about. But, Hermione would possibly be an undiagnosed psychopath."
Both, Harry and Ron nodded their heads, agreeing with me.
"There's no way, I'm a wonderful person. I'm kind, nice, and supporting," Hermione said, as I rolled my eyes with a small smile, and continued to walk faster, and ahead of the rest of the group.
As we got closer to the dungeons, we saw a larger crowd of Slytherins, considering that they live there.
We walked into Professor Slughorn's classroom, and I could see many students with their eyes glistening with excitement at today's lesson. Slughorn had told us we would be starting advanced potions, beginning with the strongest love potion, in the history of love potions, amortentia.
We gathered around the main desk, Slughorn sorting some stuff in the cupboard beside the door, creating a clutter of noise. I and Hermione stood together as Harry and Ron still argued about how Ron got the better weld book last week. They were slapping each other, fighting like ferrets in Crabbe's pants.
"Oh, for Salazar's sake, shut up!" A deep, strong voice speaks. We turn around to see Malfoy, shaking his head. He was slightly rubbing his left forearm, making sure no one would notice. "So fucking loud." He mutters under his breath.
"I'm sorry Malfoy, is your little death eater session interrupted?" I said, knowing I was going to regret this decision, knowing that it would get me detention, knowing I was incredibly horrible at this moment.
He lifted his eyes, clearly filled with rage. That smile that was always on his face, was replaced with a serious look, a look that could kill. He walks towards me, close enough for me to see every outline on his face, every frown, every cut, every hair.
"Stay in your fucking place, Potter," he says, making sure only I could hear it.
"Is that the only thing you know how to say?" I say, with an amused face.
He walks closer, about to grab my wrist until Harry interrupted.
"Get away from my sister, Malfoy," Harry snaps, and with ease, pushes Malfoy away.
I liked his presence near me, Harry!
Professor Slughorn finally noticed the commotion in the classroom, and gave both, me and Malfoy detention. But of course, not his "golden boy Potter." I was a Potter too, but clearly, he didn't care about me.
I rolled my eyes, and Malfoy walked back to his "friends." I don't like to be mean, but honestly, I don't see Malfoy happy with Crabbe and Goyle as he is with Blaise, or Theo, or even Pansy. I don't know why he still sticks with them. It doesn't concern me anyway.
"Who would like to tell me, what does amortentia create?" Slughorn asked, but before he could even finish his question, Hermione's hand went flying, shaking violently.
Professor Slughorn was quite shocked when he found out Hermione was a muggle-born. He didn't expect her to be at the top of the class.
Malfoy was a smart student as well, he just didn't participate in class as much. Not that I care.
Hermione had already answered the question, which I missed. I whisper in her ear to repeat it, only to me, but she tells me to shut up.
"Well done, Ms. Granger! Impressive, like always. 5 points to Gryffindor."
Hermione smiles a proud smile and the I hear multiple groans from the Slytherins, except for the blonde. He just stood there, staring into space. His grey eyes looked relaxed, but focussed, stressed but relieved, they were explaining so many feelings that it was hard for me to understand.
Stop.
I can't.
Try. Please.
I shake these thoughts out of my head as much as I could and tried to focus on the lesson.
"...will be rewarded," was the last thing I heard Slughorn say when everyone scattered around in search of materials.
I need to start listening in class.
I open to the page written on the board and realize we're working on the Draught of Living Death.
I walk over to Harry's table and notice him trying to cut a sopophorous bean.
I look around the classroom and notice everyone trying to cut it open, but failing miserably.
I look behind us and notice Malfoy and Blaise, trying to do the same thing. He stood there, his once clean hair, all messed up and covering his face. He caught a bean with ease, which was flying towards him from the other side of the classroom.
It's just because he is a seeker, good reflexes, doesn't make someone hot.
I'm a seeker, I'm hot. And I never said he's hot, you did.
Stop, I'm warning you.
I work on my bean until Harry tells us all the squeeze it. Hermione objected as it wasn't written in that form in the textbook, but Harry insisted and assured us, that his idea would work.
So we did. We squeezed the bean into the cauldron and watched the colors change.
After around 45 minutes, and many scorching mishaps by Seamus Finnigan, we finally completed brewing the extremely strong adored potion. It was quite obvious Hermione failed because her potion was glowing hot pink, while the other had dark colors. I slightly pat her shoulder in reassurance, but she knocks my hand away in frustration and embarrassment.
Professor walked over at Harry's potion, and his eyes beamed with satisfaction. "Wonderful, Harry!" He exclaimed, patting Harry on the back, causing him to almost tip over. "Just how I had expected!"
"Thank you, professor," Harry says, shyly, before giving a sly smirk towards me, mouthing the words, "I win."
I glare back at him, as he walks to the front of the classroom to receive his reward.
We all gather around back at the front, many glaring at Harry, while others cheering. Slughorn gave Harry a small vile, known as Felix Felicis, or Liquid Luck. It takes 6 months to brew, and if taken in large quantities, it can be extremely hazardous.
The bell rang, and without a second thought, I left the classroom for Transfiguration. We had 3 minutes to get to the other side of the castle, and Harry's bragging about winning the "contest" wasn't helpful either.
We entered McGonagall's classroom and it was quiet, a little too quiet. We all settled in our desks, I sat beside Hermione, and Harry sat beside Ron. After a few minutes, we saw a few more students rush into the classroom, lowering their voices when they notice the atmosphere of the room. They move fast as well, getting comfortable in their seats.
"As we all know," the silence was interrupted, "these past few years have been quite difficult. You all have been involved in rough encounters, and I want you all to know that I'm here for you. You can talk to me, whenever you'd like, or however, you'd like. You can send me an anonymous letter, or come to my office between the hours of 5-7 pm, but I will be there, and I want to help you.
"I would also like to inform you that this school should be an entirely safe place. I do not tolerate assault, whether it is verbal, physical, or emotional. The only thing I care about is the safety of my students, their mental health, and their well-being. Who you are, or your parents, your history, or your wealth does not concern me, you cannot bribe me into favoring for your decisions, because I will not do so."
Before anyone could ask anything, Professor McGonagall spoke again, "Now, I have asked Professor Slughorn to lend me a specific potion, which I will not yet tell you what it is. I want this classroom to get to know each other better. We have been in this school for more than 5 years now, and I know, for a fact, that you don't know everyone in this classroom."
She wasn't wrong. There were many students in this classroom who I've never seen before. Until now, after being mentioned, I had never noticed them. They always stayed behind their desks, quiet and slouched down, like they were hiding.
"I will pass this vial around, and you will tell us your name, and what you smell. Is that clear?" She asked everyone, as everyone nodded with disgust and boredom.
She passes a small pink vial, almost the same color as Hermione's draught of living death potion. I was about to say that to her, but she had already guessed my intentions and was glaring towards my direction, warning me to not do it. So, I stayed quiet.
We go around the classroom and everyone mentions what they smell, and their names.
"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione starts, grimly, "I smell freshly mowed grass, new parchment, and..." she stops for a second before finishing the statement, "that's it."
She passes the vial behind us instead of me, and into the strong, veiny, jewelry-filled hands of Draco Malfoy. He opens the lid of the vial with his strong hands and brings it closer towards his sharp nose. He takes a large whiff, before pushing the potion away from him. "I smelled roses, a sharp metal like smell and apples," he says.
That could mean a lot of things.
I have a rose soap.
Could be nothing, so many people smell like roses.
After a long time of people sharing their thoughts, and it was finally my turn. "I smell peacocks, roses, and the smell of wet soil."
I looked around the room and saw Malfoy staring at me, and at first, I thought it was because I was speaking, but I'm not speaking anymore, and he is still looking.