You went down the stairs and arrived into the common room, the heat of the flames in the fire pit filling the air. You headed towards Harry, sat in the couch, apparently trapped in a book. You frowned as you thought recognizing your potion manual: "A sudden interest in potions? What did you do to your book though?" It was all dirty and darkened.
He lifted his chin as he heard you and suddenly closed it. He looked like he didn't want to clarify and eyed your clothes: you were wearing your Quidditch outfit and tightened your belt as you stopped in front of him. He jumped on the occasion as he guessed what you were about to do: "You're sure it's not too early to go back on a broomstick? Do-"
You cut him and tapped his shoulder: "Hermione, get out of this body." He puffed.
"Honestly, it's shiny outside and I'm sick of staying here right now. Plus yesterday's Potions class tensed me. I know we've got a class in the early afternoon, but."
He hummed. "Do you want me to accompany you?"
You took a breath: "No, I think... It's better if I'm alone. You know, to reconnect."
More to not getting ashamed if you miserably fell.
"Right."
You turned and made three steps, but got back: "Oh, uh, do you know where my broom is?"
He raised his eyebrows and hissed: "Well, it... broke during your fall."
Oh.
"But you can borrow one in the changing room." He got up: "You've already eaten?"
You raised an eyebrow: in your haze, you forgot that it would be rather good to eat. He guessed it and both decided to go down to the Great Hall together. The book he discreetly hid in his cape didn't go unnoticed by you, and you asked him about it once you passed the portrait of the Fat Lady.
You noticed he wasn't at ease to talk about it, but started to explain nonetheless: "At the start of the year when Snape asked us to take a manual at the back of the class, it was the last one by the time I reached for the shelf." You hummed, as you weren't surprised; the little you saw it, it seemed all old and dirty, pages swollen by the humidity of the dungeons. "At first, I was pissed because there were plenty of inscriptions in it, I swear to you I could barely read the instructions. I had no choice but follow what was written on the printings." A sparkle lit in his eyes: "And I was quite right. y/n, I never succeeded that much in this class. You should see Snape and Hermione's faces in front of my perfect potions."
Both of you passed the huge doors and sat at the Gryffindor's table. Once you served yourself, Harry turned his face left and right; no one seemed to pay attention to you and he got the Potions manual out. He placed it in front of you, in a way no one behind nor in front would see it. You puffed at his carefulness. He motioned you to approach and whispered a "Look."
You went on your knees on the bench and bent above the book. You opened it; here and there were written short paragraphs in a small, tight handwriting. Even drawings had been added. If you didn't know what it was, you couldn't have had linked it to your clean, new manual, with its inscriptions well organised. He mimicked your position and bent above it too, the top of his head barely touching yours. "See? This is the ticket to the best mark possible at the Potions exam." You didn't lift your eyes from it and asked: "Does anyone know about it?" He shook his head no.
A high-pitched screeching sound made both of you sit straight, bumping your heads into each other: both huffed and scrubbed at your hair. At the Slytherin table behind Harry, Draco was observing the scene, clutching at his fork. You didn't notice it though as you eyed above you; two black great horned owls entered the room, a long package in their claws. Hedwig was the first to reach for you as she dropped today's Daily Prophet in front of Harry, picking at his hand for a reward. He was about to make a remark about who could possibly receive a that huge gift, but got quickly cut as the owls answered his wondering by dropping it right in front of you, making plates and glasses jump under the thud. The birds left in elegant wings beatings after stealing pieces of bread from you and one of Harry's sausages, what led Hedwig to angrily fly after them towards the ceiling. "What are you waiting for to open it?"
Harry's curiosity got you out of your contemplation and you started to untie the cords and open the paper, what quickly drew the Gryffindors around you's attention. Everyone held their breath at the same time; Harry's eyes widened and Neville gasped loudly next to you. He pointed at the package and said: "Is it a..."
"Firebolt supreme."
Harry and you had said it together at once, looking at each other. You didn't know how to react; too many questions were going on inside your head. "This is a broom, y/n! No way we'll lose against Ravenclaw next week with you on that." You smiled widely as you took your new broom in your hands, eyeing it. You're not sure you had ever seen a that powerful one; the best you had ever laid your eyes on was Harry's Firebolt he'd been offered by his godfather, or Slytherin's team's Nimbus 2001 – but never a Firebolt supreme.
"Who do you think it's from?"
He huffed, as you asked a rather stupid question: "McGonagall of course!" The memory of when the head of the house sent him his Nimbus 2000 made him smile. Gryffindors around you cheered as they started talking about how Ravenclaw had no chance to win, giving the atmosphere a hint of excitement. Dean even shouted a: "Thank you McGonagall, the best Gryffindor ever!" and everyone laughed.
Unnoticed at the table behind, Draco was still observing you. Crabbe loudly puffed as he turned back to his breakfast: "McGonagall is so stupid. Since when students are offered new brooms because they can't keep on theirs during a match?" Pansy huffed at Draco's side, but stopped as she noticed he wasn't laughing. The blond followed you with his gaze as you headed out of the Great Hall, your new broom on your shoulder, the tails of your Quidditch cape flying behind you. From the outside, it looked more like a killing stare than anything else and Pansy scooted closer to him: "Don't mind her. You know Gryffindor's team is so untalented compared to you."
He wasn't listening, but his attitude didn't go unnoticed by Harry, who just got up after grabbing his book back below the wrapping paper. The Gryffindor cocked an eyebrow and cleared his throat: "Scared, Malfoy?"
He darted his green eyes on him and got up, nearly hitting Pansy in the process. "You wish, Potter." He stepped over the bench to leave the Hall under Harry's proud expression as he thought he put him in a particularly bad mood, Pansy's hurt feelings and Crabbe's concerned face.
-
You advanced till the middle of the pit and put the shiny new broomstick on the ground. "Well. Let's start by the beginning."
You placed your hand above it at the level of your waist.
"Up!"
The broom rose and your hand mechanically closed around the neck. You smiled; a small victory, but still one. Once on it, you stomped the ground with your left foot and quickly ascended at the level of the three big hoops of the goals.
Basics movements seemed alright.
You spent the whole morning flying across the pit, passing between the goals and empty seats as the sun rose in the sky. The white clouds that accompanied you in the first place vanished in the pale blue sky of April.
At a moment, you even enchanted an old Quaffle you found in the changing room to try to catch it to score. You soon started to get bored after the twentieth goal and considered returning to the castle. You slowly landed on the grass and put the Quaffle on the ground, pointing at it to end the spell.
"Hey! What are ya doin'!"
You turned as you heard a deep voice; a huge hairy person was coming towards you. The small of his face you could see between his hair and beard relaxed as he saw you, and you were the first to open your mouth: "Hagrid?"
It came out more as a question, keeping a doubt on your still weak memory.
"y/n! I didn't recognize ya. Already performing, he?"
You smiled.
"Sorry teh have shouted like that, but I thought someone was casting spells on Quidditch balls again."
You frowned.
"Again? What do you mean?"
He swayed his large hand in the air: "Oh, before las' match I surprised a student wand pointed at the Bludgers."
He then lifted his chin and made a comment about how it was a beautiful day, but you didn't pay attention anymore.
Someone casting a spell on the Bludgers?
Before the last Quidditch match?
He meant your last Quidditch match?
He scoffed loudly and you blinked, coming back to the reality. "Er, I leave you alone. See yah around!"
He left the pitch slowly, and you dove back in your thoughts, but not for so long as you heard Hagrid's voice again in the distance: "Good morning, Draco!"
You lifted your head at a sudden as the Slytherin boy headed towards you.
What the gamekeeper just told you worked your mind, that added to what Harry told you yesterday plus the fact that Draco was literally coming to you now.
"Malfoy."
He blinked as you pronounced his last name and said, his words a bit scattered – he seemed a bit out of breath after crossing the grounds: "I came to give you this."
He took something from his inside pocket and presented it to you.
It was a little flask, a white-pearl liquid in it.
"It's from yesterday's class. Snape said we could take some back, but you left the dungeon before doing so."
You took it, a bit taken aback; you weren't expecting this. "Thanks. Aren't we supposed not to? I mean, it could be dangerous?"
He huffed: "No, not this one. This version of Amortentia isn't dangerous."
You moved the flask in your palm, making its content gleaming under the sun.
"Actually I didn't hear Snape's explanations yesterday, I was quite interrupted."
He took a breath and decided to not pay attention to this pun: "Well, this isn't real Amortentia cause we didn't add the ingredient that acts on a person, the school doesn't want us to do it."
You squinted: "Acts?"
He raised eyebrows and scratched his head: "You don't know what it is?"
You gulped, feeling a bit dumb right now. "Amortentia is a love potion. If you make someone drink it, this person will develop a passion for you. It's not real love though."
"What's the point in making it if it's not useful then?"
He scoffed: "Well, it has a special smell for everyone. Apparently, it smells things you love."
You raised eyebrows: "Wow, I didn't know Snape was such a romantic."
You removed the cap and approached the flask to your nose. You couldn't help but inhale deeply; it was the most pleasant thing you had ever smelt. Draco smiled watching you, but quickly pinched his lips to repress it.
"What do you smell?"
"It's hard to tell." You inhaled. "It's like... It reminds me of wood. Like lacquered wood." You eyed your broomstick at your feet and let out a "Wow."
"But I feel like I smell other things. Is it normal?"
He nodded: "Yes, I don't know if it's like that for everyone but I smell three or four different things."
"Oh, I think I recognize this one. Hey, it smells like lavender. I have lavender in my garden, at home."
You tried to concentrate to figure out another smell, under Draco's interested gaze. After some seconds, you said: "Hm, is this... hot chocolate?"
You frowned, as you never particularly drunk hot chocolate nor loved its smell more than that, but hummed as you closed the flask.
When you lifted your face, you saw Draco scratching his cheeks and frowned: "Are you alright?"
He cleared his throat and tugged at his grey cardigan.
"Yes, I think I was nearly stung by a Billywig or something. I bet Hagrid made one or two escape again." He feigned an angry face and you turned your head right and left, but no blue insects were flying around.
An awkward silence fell, and you started walking toward the changing room to escape the thick atmosphere: "You too have class in a bit?"
He started walking and joined you: "No. I think you have class with Hufflepuff."
You huffed: "Congrats, you know my planning better than me."
He stopped right before you entered, and you turned to him.
"I guess you'll remember everything at some point."
"I hope so."
Silence.
You added: "But I remember a lot so far. I'm not completely lost."
"But you don't remember..."
He seemed to struggle to find his words, and you squinted.
"...the entire match? Before you got injured."
You took a breath: "Only the moments right before it."
You waved at him and disappeared behind the curtain, saying "See you tomorrow" as you would see him in Potions class.
Let's hope it will be better than yesterday.