Potions Class

It has been said that Hermione Granger did not know how to have fun. Her entire life philosophy was that if one followed the rules, went to class, and studied hard, they would find success. This was why it was so shocking when she arrived to Potions class late and breathless one morning, offering Snape little more than an incoherent excuse and a promise to be punctual in the future. The witch scarcely even blinked when the sneering potions master deducted 10 house points from Gryffindor.

Sitting hastily next to her partner—a Ravenclaw wizard—Hermione began to help him make that day's potion.

Once Snape dismissed the class, Hermione took her time standing and preparing to walk with Harry and Ron to their next class.

"Why were you late today, 'Mione?" Ron inquired, "You're never late."

Hermione looked to the door. The trio was the last group left in the room. "Oh, I just had to use the restroom."

As they began to walk to the door, Hermione absently patted her hair in an attempt to tame the nest. Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch or some similar topic—Hermione paid them no mind.

"Potter. I see that you continue to associate with riffraff scum." Malfoy was sauntering down the hall toward them, Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him.

The trio was used to his taunts by now, so they attempted to ignore the pureblood wizard and continue on their way.

Malfoy was not one to be ignored, however. "Granger," he sneered, "Your hair is looking particularly hideous today."

"That obviously has nothing to do with you, Malfoy, so mind your own business," came Hermione's rejoinder as she walked casually down the hall with Ron and Harry.

The Slytherin was unable to get in another stab at Hermione's appearance, or Ron's hand-me-down robes before the Gryffindor squad had turned the corner and continued toward their next class.

"Git," Ron scoffed once they had gotten out of earshot. Harry expressed his profuse agreement, but Hermione only clutched her books tighter to her chest and remained silent.

This trend continued. Every so often, Hermione would arrive to Potions a few minutes late, attempting to sneak in unnoticed while Snape was busy at the chalkboard, but without success. She bore her punishments well, but left everyone in the dark when it came to the real reasons for her tardiness.

"I overslept," "I forgot my potions book," and "The staircases were particularly spiteful today," were among her most utilized excuses. Harry and Ron formulated their own theories, but neither of them could have ever anticipated the truth.

Xoxo

"I've missed you."

"You insulted my hair from across the Great Hall only yesterday!"

"Yes, but I didn't get to do this."

Hermione giggled as foreign lips met her own, and held her in place. She lifted her hands to cup his face, and he did the same. She knew nothing but happiness in that moment.

They broke apart. "Draco Malfoy," she teased, "I do believe you're turning into a sentimental puddle of mush."

"Only for you, love."

Blissfully, they reconnected their mouths, as though it were torturous to stay apart any longer. For a while, the pair forgot that they were in a corridor where anyone could walk by and catch them in this sinful disregard for their supposed status as enemies.

Draco's hands, first nestled in Hermione's hair, began to creep lower. The witch issued no complaints, enjoying the stolen moment before she had to make it to—

"Potions!" she yelled suddenly, pushing the dazed Draco back and forcing him to cease his groping. She hastily gathered her fallen satchel and wished Draco farewell, rushing down the hall in a blur.

"Hermione!" Draco expressed his displeasure to the fleeing girl.

As she rounded the corner, Hermione turned back to the forbidden object of her affections and shouted, "If I'm late for potions class again, I'm going to fail the term!"

With that, she was out of his sight. His irritation was quickly replaced with mirth. Sure, Hermione was a stuck up know-it-all who didn't know how to have any fun, but she was his stuck up know-it-all.