Chapter 9
“Gods Draco. Do you have to breathe so loudly?”
“Would you prefer I stop breathing at all?”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. He was being absolutely insufferable today.
“Well, now that you mention it…”
They’d been working on their memory enhancing potion theory for the last few weeks; their days were spent in one of the Department’s potions laboratories. Laboratory was being generous really; it was an unremarkable space. More like an oversized cupboard than anything. It was dark and cramped; there were jars upon jars of all manner of ingredients lining the walls; Hermione was particularly repulsed by the creature parts illuminated by torchlight. It resembled a shrunken version of Snape’s dungeon classroom. The association did not help Hermione’s mood.
“Salazar’s balls Granger. Is your hair actually sentient? Ever heard of a brush?” Hermione lifted her furious gaze and saw Draco pulling a hair from his lips. Serves the ferret right – he shouldn’t have gotten so close when they inspected the potion’s development.
“Must you be so infuriating?”
“Me?” Draco scoffed. “You’re the one who’s snapping at every little noise.”
“It’s not my fault you breathe louder than an Erumpent with a head cold.”
“Well at least I don’t screech like a banshee. Unlike some people in this room.”
“Excuse me” Hermione shrieked.
Draco gave an exaggerated wince and smirked.
The expression on his face was so reminiscent of his teenage self that Hermione felt transported back to Hogwarts.
“Oh you’ve not changed at all, have you?”
She stalked past him – pausing at the door as he called after her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you.” She spat and slammed the door behind her.
Hermione marched across the Department’s atrium towards the lift.
“Harry he is absolutely the most insufferable berk I have ever met. He has the gall to complain about my hair when he breathes louder than Slughorn after a lap around the castle. I haven’t been able to get anything done. Are you laughing at me?”
After storming out of the potions lab Hermione had found herself in Harry’s office and, without preamble, had launched into a searing complaint about her colleague. Given her friends reactions when they found out she was working with Draco Malfoy she’d expected him to leap to her defence. What she did not expect was her oldest friend to look on her with poorly contained amusement – a grin curling his lips and his bright green eyes glittering.
“Harrrryyyy” she practically whined.
“Mione.” Harry huffed with a laugh. “You interrupt my report writing to give me a dozen different metaphors for how loudly Malfoy breathes, and expect me not to laugh?”
“Well … when you put it like that…” she grinned sheepishly.
“I thought you two were getting along anyway? Harry pulled at face – as if the prospect of one ‘getting along’ with Malfoy was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.
“Well we were! We were actually becoming friends, but since we had a theory about our …..” She grimaced at Harry, knowing she couldn’t share more, “Our project, we’ve been at each other’s throats. It’s like being back at school.”
“Ahhhh, Third Year Hermione.”
“Third … what?”
“You know, First Year Hermione was all about impressing the teachers, Second Year Hermione was a rule-breaker. Third would bite your head off if you bothered her studying. She always made a reappearance around exam time too. Third Year Hermione also punched Malfoy … maybe you’re just channelling her” Harry grinned at her.
Hermione rolled her eyes fondly.
“Do I even want to know the other years?”
“Hmmm. Let’s see.” Harry put on a look of mock thoughtfulness as he counted the years on his fingers. “Fourth year was Hermione on a vendetta – Skeeter never stood a chance. Fifth year was Prefect Hermione – always telling us off, and sixth …” Harry paused as he waved his wand at the door – swinging it open, before shouting – ‘OI, RON!”
There was a muffled shout in response, before Ron’s face appeared in the door with a doughnut in his mouth.
“Sixth year Hermione?” Harry asked.
Ron hurriedly swallowed the mouthful of doughnut.
“Fucking terrifying,” he said plainly.
“Excuse me?” Hermione turned to Ron, offence evident in her tone.
Ron shrugged and gave her an easy smile.
“Those birds left scars, Mione.”
Draco was sat in the Ministry cafeteria with Theo; nursing a steaming coffee as his brunette friend eyed him with a suspiciously knowing look.
“Give over Theo!”
Theo’s hands raised as if in supplication.
“I’m just saying mate – all the bickering is just unresolved sexual tension. Maybe you just need to give her a good ---” He muffled the last few words around the muffin Draco had unceremoniously stuffed in his mouthy gob.
“It’s Granger for Merlin’s sake. We work together, I’d prefer you not say things like … that” He gestured vaguely at Theo’s mouth which was busy chewing obnoxiously. “We’ve only just become … friends. Though even that seems to be imploding after this morning.” He let his head fall onto the table with a loud thunk.
“Ahh mate.” Theo sprayed crumbs of muffin over Draco has spoke. “You turn into a right tetchy bastard when you’re stressed. Granger strikes me as the same – I made the mistake of reading a Runes book she wanted during NEWTs. Honestly think she wanted to hex my bollocks off. Give her some space and apologise for being … well …. you.” He finished with a smarmy grin as Draco looked up from where he had pressed his face against the cool plastic of the lunch tables.
“Does Lovegood know how much of an obnoxious twat you are?” He griped.
“Yep!” Theo’s lips popped around the ‘p’. “But she says I have a positive aura.” He puffed his chest out proudly and Draco rolled his eyes.
The afternoon saw Draco and Hermione return to the potions laboratory – both wearing somewhat sheepish expressions after their disagreement that morning. The atmosphere was stifling – which, Draco thought bitterly, had nothing to do with the fumes of their experimental potion, and everything to do with the near-silence they’d been working in since lunch.
They worked as if in some strange dance – as he reached above her to the rarer ingredients, she would step to the side, as she leant across to stir the potion in a figure of eight motion, he would turn away. For every step one would make, the other would respond in parallel. It was infuriating, and in his growing irritation Draco fell out of step. The third time Hermione leant across to stir the potion he didn’t turn quite quickly enough and he caught a waft of the floral perfume she wore as he belatedly turned away. Merlin, she smelt like Spring. Theo’s insinuation echoed in his mind and he shook his head firmly to rid himself of the thought.
“Granger,” His voice came out slightly hoarse after their mutual silence. She arched an eyebrow at the renewed use of her surname. “Hermione,” he corrected. The eyebrow returned to it’s usual position. Draco couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sorry about this morning, I was feeling irritable that our progress has slowed, and I shouldn’t have antagonised you. I’ve been reliably informed I can be a right tetchy bastard when I’m stressed.” He gave an apologetic shrug as he looked into her eyes. Like molten chocolate.
“Well,” she began in response, and Draco’s heart gave a little jolt when he saw the smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been reliably informed that I can get a little …. testy when I’m trying to focus on something important. Harry referred to it as a resurgence of ‘Third Year Hermione.’ Her hands lifted in the air to give the ‘air-quotes’ gesture and Draco was momentarily distracted by how dainty they seemed; they were petite, and soft looking. His own were practically gargantuan in comparison… how they might look wrapped around …. No. That needed to stop right there. Curse Theo for putting ideas in his head.
With a slight flush on his cheeks Draco returned to the present moment and focused on her words.
Wait.
“Third Year Hermione?” He questioned – his cheek tingled with a vague memory. “Isn’t that when you slapped me?”
Hermione had the grace to slightly abashed – her cheeks flushed a pretty pink in embarrassment at the reminder.
“Yes, well, in my defence I had taken all of the electives and was extremely stressed. And you were asking for it!”
“You took all of the electives? But you must have been studying at least 12 different subjects? How in Salazar’s name did you manage that? They couldn’t have possibly fit all that in your timetable … you’d need a dozen more hours in the … in the …” His gray eyes widened with comprehension as Hermione bit her lip awkwardly. “You had a time turner?” He breathed in awe. “At thirteen?”
“Well I was fourteen actually.”
Draco dismissed this with a wave of the hand. “I need to know more. Tell me you used it for more than just studying.”
A mischievous grin appeared on her face. “Well … remember how Buckbeak was supposed to be executed…..”