One Odd Moment
A/n: Yeah, I know I said that there would be no sequel to Some Magical Evening,but those plot bunnies won't budge unless I let this one out. I do not own HP or any of the characters too, or I'd have my own mansion and my own Chanel Diamonds Forever tote right now. Oh, and yeah, this is another one-shot (hopefully!).
Extra Notes: The sentences in italics are actual quotes I got from HBP's chapter 9 (The Half Blood Prince), so please don't sue me for borrowing them. Thanks. :)
Tip: You could fit this story somewhere after chapter 9 of HBP. :D
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightly impressed. "But I assume you know what it does?"
Annoying, know-it-all Granger sure was at it again. I could not help rolling my eyes as her hand flew up in the air once more, her brown eyes glazed with excitement at the opportunity of bragging about the rubbish she had memorized from the huge stacks of books she had borrowed from the library that morning.
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.
I did not even bother to continue listening as she and the Slughorn, who also annoyed me because he appreciates the wrong sort of people (take Longbottom and Weaslette and McLaggen), went on with their discussion about the stupid love potion.
"… and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and—"
Now that tiny bit caught my attention. So the mudblood was attracted to men who smelled like grass and parchment? Unconsciously I sniffed my robes, and was glad that I smelled neither of the two offending objects. Thank Merlin, because that's what the freckly Weasley most probably smelled like.
I half-listened as Slughorn asked Granger whether she was related to some chap who founded some society about potioneers, and she said no, she did not think so, since she was a (insert a sickeningly girly voice here) 'muggle-born'.
"I always thought 'mudblood' sounded lots better," I whispered to Theodore Nott, who was standing next to me. We both sniggered at that, and at the corner of my eye I caught Potter giving me the evil eye.
Slughorn then proceeded to give twenty points to Gryffindor, mentioning how Potter had mentioned his mudblood best friend being the top at our batch. Hah. I don't bury my nose in books as much as the bookworm Granger did, and I'm only a few measly points below her average, so what more if I copied her oh-so-boring studying habits?
"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion this room—oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at my direction. That didn't stop me from continuing to smirk disbelievingly, however. "When you have seen as much of this life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love…"
As the rest of the class went on to see the next potion one of those fat Hufflepuff chaps whose names I don't bother knowing had asked about, I decided to take a whiff of the so-called powerful love potion.
An inviting smell of vanilla musk mixed with the elusive scent of a newly opened page of a book, along with another minty fragrance I could not name but was so familiar hit my nostrils, and I inhaled, taking in the heady smell that relaxed and stimulated my senses all at the same time.
"…that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"
"It's liquid luck!" Granger said excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"
Now that got my whole attention. I sat up straighter and finally gave the lesson my utmost attention. I needed luck so badly I would be willing to wear a pink tutu and dance my way to Hogsmeade with Weasley as a partner, if worse comes to worst. I just hope I wouldn't have to resort to that to obtain that bloody potion.
Slughorn then proceeded to explaining further about Felix Felicis, and when he said that mixing the perfect Draught of the Living Death would make one lucky person the owner of the Felix Felicis, I quickly grabbed my Advanced Potion-Making book.
I quickly went to work, pushing the enticing smell of the Amortentia away from my head. This is serious business. My mission, after all, needed one hell of a lucky day.
1 week later...
I had been spacing out for a minute there as I stared blankly at a book I was supposed to be reading, thinking about my further plans for that damned mission when Granger called my attention.
"What do you want, Granger? Oh wait, don't answer that; it's not as if I'd give it to you, would I?" I said silkily, watching as her face flushed a little.
The vague memory of what I had done about two years ago, which I had tried to expunge with all my will flashed before my eyes as I took in her appearance. No, she most certainly did not look the same as she did that odd evening, after the Yule Ball. Her hair, which was tamed and shiny looking in a sexy coiffure that one night, did not look anything like the bushy, errant curly locks which fell on her thin shoulders right now. Her face was bare of any make-up at the moment, making her look washed out. And her starched uniform was a far cry from the fitted blue robes she wore back then.
No, she most certainly did not look as snoggable as she did at fourteen.
"I would not bother talking to you if the world started falling apart, you know," she huffed out, seeming to get over her slight embarrassment. "I just wanted to know when you'd be through with that book, because I need to borrow it,"
I gave her a lazy smirk in return. "Well, you'd have to wait your turn, won't you?" I asked idly, snapping the book shut. "The due date of this is…" I checked the card at the back. "… a month from now. Seems like your luck has run out, Granger."
"You'd best pray you don't run out of your own stock of luck, then, Malfoy," she shot back.
That's exactly what I was praying for every night before I go to sleep, even though I do not have a religion, but she did not need to know that.
"Potter may have won that Felix Felicis with some benevolent intervention, but that small bottle can't stop what's really bound to happen," Oops. I should really quit putting my damned foot in my mouth. Now Granger's sure to ask a thousand questions which we both know I would never answer.
"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"As if I'd confide anything to you, Granger," I answered in a voice which dripped with sarcasm. "Fact is, you aren't getting this book until I'm through with it," Good maneuvering away from the topic.
Granger rolled her eyes at me. "Fine. Can I just take a glimpse then? So I can check if there are other reference books I can find," she said, a slight pleading note in her voice which I immensely enjoyed. She seemed to be hiding her desperation to have the book by trying to act nonchalant, but I wasn't buying it. I know that she'd be willing to go through drastic measures like snogging Mrs. Norris or sticking a broom up her arse just to get her hands on the book I was holding. Her grades must mean a whole lot more than her social life, or life in general.
"Could you offer anything that would make touching what your filthy mudblood hands touched worthy?" I asked, eyebrow raised.
To my utter surprise, she went up and took a seat on the empty chair next to mine, leaning towards me, close enough that I could smell her shampoo, which reminded me of some scent I couldn't remember smelling. Must have been some other mudblood, I reckon.
I quickly scanned the library of there was anyone who would spot us and scream to the world how a miracle occurred when a Malfoy and a mudblood sat at the same table, but thankfully, the area was empty save for Madame Pince, who was busy polishing some old books and never bothering to spare us the briefest of glances.
"You know I need that book badly for the written report Professor McGonagall's collecting on Friday," she said in a dead serious voice. "And I know that you know that that is the only copy available. If you would give me this afternoon to borrow that book, I promise not to tell anyone of your secret," she finished, and my heart gave a lurch. Did she know about my mission? Did she know what I was doing in the Room of Requirement?
I tried to mask my dread by scoffing, "What secret would that be, Granger?"
The last thing I expected was for her to blush. Yet there she was, looking at me in the eye with those brown eyes of hers, the magenta flush spreading to her cheeks and neck.
"Well—that—you—well—that you… oh bother! I'll tell everyone you kissed me two years ago at the Astronomy Tower!" she rushed out, wringing her hands together in a nervous manner.
Well damn. That was a relief. I thought she had somehow discovered my real secret.
"Go on, tell them," I goaded her with my all-too-familiar sneer. "As if anyone would believe you. They'd think you fancy me or something," I paused, regarding her thoughtfully. "Not unless… you don't fancy me, do you, Granger?" I asked, leaning towards her.
She stiffened and moved away from me. "You wish, Malfoy," she muttered. "You were the one who told me I could score a night in your bed, not me,"
"Did I?" So she still remembered what I said that evening. Now this is amusing. "Been relishing that scene over and over, I presume? Admit it, Granger. You couldn't forget that evening I kissed you two years ago,"
"And what if I admit that I haven't been able to forget? Would you lend me the book then?"
Now that caught me off-guard. But I wasn't letting her off that easily. She was the one who came barging in this time and ruined my moment of soliloquy, not me.
With a haughty grin, I pulled her by the wrist towards me, inhaling the familiar smell of her hair before saying, "Not until you admit that you also wanted me that night,"
Her brows mashed together as she gave me a half-embarrassed, half-offended frown. "How dare you assume—"
My lips had sealed over hers before she could get another damn word out, and her surprised gasp was stifled when I pulled her face closer and deepened the kiss.
She still tasted the same as she did two years ago—sweet and minty at the same time. Just then, realization hit me like a strong punch in the gut. She smelled and tasted just like the damned Amortentia potion Slughorn showed us last week!
She pulled away before I did, however, and I was unprepared for the slap she gave me right across the cheek.
"Don't you dare do that again, you… you…" she couldn't seem to get the dirty word out of her mouth. "…you bastard!" she pushed me away from her, stood up and ran away.
As if I would dare do that again. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of the mudblood having the same scent with the strongest love potion in the world. I wondered if the scent would change if I put my mind into it. Maybe if I force a crush on someone more worthy of the attraction I was feeling, like Astoria Greengrass or some highborn pureblood like me.
I would never, ever talk to her again, whatever the circumstance, I silently vowed to myself. Planning the mission I was given was a whole lot more important than pondering the source of my misplaced attraction to the mudblood. There was a lot to do, and analyzing my on and off compulsion of kissing Granger was sure to be a complete waste of time.
Glancing at my watch, I saw that lunchtime was nearly over and I had to get my arse to the greenhouse if I wanted some proper gloves to protect me from the gnawing and snapping herbs Professor Sprout tortured us with. To my astonishment, the book I had taunted Granger with was gone.
Annoying, cunning, tasty little mudblood.
A/n: Review please.:)