Anatomy of a Cobra

“You know Hermione,” his voice was hardly above a husky whisper, “they say the cobra can take the form of your true hearts desires.” Taking a step back his body began morphing before her very eyes. Before she could even blink, he had turned into a cobra.

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Fanfiction in collaboration with CherryWolf-Chan

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Monday rolled in smoothly and Hermione had gotten over the post-birthday blues. Her gifts were all amazing, but she had to admit (although she didn’t want to) that Draco Malfoy and surpassed everyone in his present giving—it was just amazing. She was wondering if it was real gold though...

“Potions... with Snape.” Ron spat Snape’s name as if it was a vulgar swearword and, frankly, according to all Gryffindor’s (and perhaps some Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff’s), Snape was the new equivalent to any vulgar swearword.

“Who else would potions be with?” Hermione snorted as she walked a pace ahead of her two best friends. She had the pendant strewn secretively around her neck and tucked neatly behind her robes... it felt heavy, as if it was something unforgivable— as if a Gryffindor student was not allowed, by the greater powers, to adorn presents given to her by Slytherin boys.

Draco Malfoy, and his band of friends, were all lounging outside of the Potions room. Harry nodded at Blaise Zabini, as they were both on okay terms. Ron merely shoved his way past them and Hermione, although as subtle was possible, caught eye contact with Draco and instantly looked away. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he was fighting not to smirk—his friends might think it random.

“Started your potion yet, Malfoy?” Blaise nudged his friend as Terrence chewed on his thumbnail. Adrian merely leaned up against the wall and watched Theodore talk to a cute little Ravenclaw girl—although she did seem somewhat scared of Theodore.

“Yeah right,” Draco rolled his eyes, “if mudblood over there picked up the pace, we would be done by now.”

Hermione caught that little phrase and frowned. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin... she thought to herself as she took her seat squat between Harry and Ron. The two potion classes talked amongst themselves as they awaited the arrival of Professor Severus Snape.

“Silence...” Snape spoke as he strode into the room, whooshing his cape in the process. Ron bit his lip to keep from laughing and Hermione had to nudge his side—Snape sent an ice cold look at Ron’s direction...

“Five points from Gryffindor—for being silly...”

Instantly shutting up, Ron glared dangerously towards the professor as Snape took his seat at the front of the class room. “You all divide into your partners and work on your potion for the remainder of class—go...”

Ron and Harry simultaneously groaned as Hermione sent them nudges at the same time. “Hush up, both of you--...” Standing up, she climbed off the bench and immediately caught eye contact with Draco. The seat beside him was empty already—Terrence, who had been sitting with him, shifted to where his partner was sitting, some Slytherin girl Hermione had never seen before. Probably a new student...

“Well, well...” Draco smirked, “I don’t even have to call the mudblood over and she’s already here—quite impressive.”

Hermione sent him a dark glare as she plopped down beside him—So there goes the sweet Malfoy I knew last night... go figure, this thing’s probably hexed and I probably won’t be able to take it off. Watch, every time he says sit girl, I’ll fall face first into the ground... what luck!

“Shut up, Malfoy...” She muttered as she silently sat beside him.

Silence.

An awkward silence enveloped the both of them, regardless of the inane chatter that was twittering around them. Hermione’s body was tensed as she felt, with a hot desire, to rip the pendant off her neck and throw it at that damn face that belonged to Draco Malfoy—

That... handsome, sinfully desirable... epitome of perfec—

What the bloody hell am I thinking?! Hermione caught herself in the process of thinking compliments of Malfoy. No, that wasn’t possible... not possible at all—

“Professor?” Hermione glanced over at Draco as he spoke up. Snape turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Malfoy?”

“It’s rather noisy in the dungeon—would it be possible, as we’ve left our notes there, that Granger and I relocate to our Head’s common?”

Snape’s lip pressed into a thin line before he gave Draco a silent nod. “Very well—you two, and only two you, may relocate yourself. However, I want a written description of work accomplished in the common room with proof—understood?”

“Perfectly,” Draco smirked as he stood up. Grinning at Hermione, he grabbed his book bag and stepped away from the desk—“coming?”

Hermione shot him a dangerous glare before standing up, roughly grabbing her book bag, and followed him straight out of the dungeon.

“Bloody hell...” Dean whispered.

“Five points, for unneeded comments.”

Bullshit.

-x-

“Okay...” Hermione was resting on a singular sofa while Draco took a rather cushiony beanbag louge chair. They had parchment, muggle lined paper, and even books surrounding them, in order to create the complete our project atmosphere. Evidently, neither of them was in the mood to talk about concocting potions that’d only work on Longbottom and Bulstrode.

“So, Hermione...”

Hermione shot him a nasty glare. “So in the dungeon I was mudblood and now I’m Hermione? Make up your mind and stick to it, Malfoy.”

The Slytherin prince stared at her lazily, his lips curling into an immeasurable sneer. “Do you honestly believe that if I called you Hermione in front of the others, they’d let it slide? Or has it eluded you that for the past six years, you’ve been nothing but the mudblood Granger to me?”

Hermione clenched her right hand into a tight first. “Is that so? So when did this perception change?”

“Quite a while back,” Draco shrugged as if it was such an obvious thing to say. Hermione raised an eyebrow, the notes and work lying in front of them being long forgotten.

“A while back? How long of a while?”

Draco sighed. “Is it honestly important? All you need to know is that when I call your ass mudblood in front of others—obviously I do not mean it. If I did, you wouldn’t be wearing that pendant right about now...”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she, instinctively, brought her hand up in front of her robes to where the pendant lay flat against her bare skin. “How did...”

Draco snickered. “The gold chain isn’t hard to miss... I’m surprised Pothead and Weasel didn’t notice it.”

Hermione decided to adhere to the silence is golden rule and didn’t say anything. Leaning forward, she picked up the first few pieces of parchment and began skimming through the words—she was acutely aware of the fact that Draco was watching her with burning intensity. Struggling hard not to look up at him, she pinpointed the most important information. Her concentration, however, was cut short when she felt hot fingers touch her arm.

Snapping her gaze up, she saw that Draco had leaned forward and had slightly trailed his fingers up her arm, in an attempt to get her attention.

“What?” She inquired, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. She was trying, with all the will power she could conjure up, to not think about the tingling sensation her skin burned with and that odd tumble in her stomach...

“If I ask you something, answer me honestly?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Draco looked as if he was struggling. “Tomorrow—uhh... night... after lights out, do you think you can make it to Hogsmeade village?”

Hermione frowned. “Why?”

Pulling back, Draco slouched in the seat, his legs spread open and his arms resting at the back of his head. “It’s a surprise, Granger...” He teased her last name smoothly off of his tongue, causing a repressed shudder to skitter up Hermione’s spine.

Unwanted reactions.

“I won’t die?”

Draco snorted. “Hermione, if that was my intention, I could’ve done it over a million times during the last six years—don’t argue, it’s true.” Draco smirked as he saw Hermione’s mouth open to argue. “So yes or no, will you?”

Biting her bottom lip, she searched his eyes for something she was unsure of. Releasing a sigh she nodded slowly. “I guess... I will—can we work on this now?”

Draco’s body, which had been tense, relaxed considerably after hearing Hermione’s answer. He nodded and leaning forward—“Alright... so what?”

Hermione shrugged. “No idea. Think, Neville and Millicent...”

“Hair and brains...”

“And a snake.”

Draco glanced up at her, a rather sinfully sweet smirk adorning his lips. “Don’t worry about that part—I’ve got it covered.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How?”

“I’ll show you,” Draco whispered, “someday...”

Frowning, Hermione decided to let that comment slide as they began discussing properties for Millicent and Neville—and possible ways to create such a potion.