Chapter 7 - Gold Stars
A/N: Thanks for all the replies! I really appreciate them! And it helps me obtain more perspective on my own writing...so thanks again! =)
After pulling the cork off with an audible 'pop,' Severus Snape tipped the glass tube with a careful hand. The thick red liquid pooled at the rim before it slowly dripped into the awaiting cauldron.
"Hermione Granger will be joining us tonight."
Draco looked up from the textbook he was perusing: The Elixirs of Life and Death. "Granger?"
"Very good. That is her surname. You repeated it with surprising accuracy after I had only said it once. Would you like a gold star? Or perhaps a bezoar?"
Having grown used to Snape's humor and sharing some of its darkness (never mind the other's arbitrary references to trivial Muggle things), Draco merely frowned. "But I'm feeling loads better now."
Snape did not immediately respond. Instead, he carefully stirred the bubbling liquid as it thickened and turned a deep purple. Once it had reached the proper shade, he looked up at the blond boy. Draco was flipping through various potions, one hand idly tapping the desktop. "Yes, you have been doing better but that's because you haven't been doing anything for the Order lately. A good wind will still knock you down."
As undignified as it was, Draco snorted.
"It's best if we find something that will work while you're feeling better. Though Granger may not be my top student," Snape said, looking pointedly at Draco. He readjusted his grip on the wooden stirring stick. He didn't mention that Draco was also his favorite student. "We need to make use of all the resources available to us."
Without looking up, Draco mumbled his agreement. Personally, he thought his snogging sessions with Ginny Weasley were the only 'resources' he needed. He didn't quite understand why he had denied himself of them at the beginning of the year though he had a sneaking suspicion, one of which he assiduously refused to acknowledge, that he feared the consequence of caring too much and eventually, losing either the affection or the object herself if he allowed himself the indulgence. After all, he already had an intimate knowledge of loss and that was an area of study he didn't want further lessons in.
"Your responses are a bit wanting, Draco," Snape growled, interrupting the other's train of thought.
"Is that so? I thought I was being particularly eloquent this evening."
A knock on the door prevented Snape from making any further comment. "Come in," he called.
Balancing a stack of books with one hand and pushing the door opened with the other, Hermione struggled into the Potions classroom without any assistance from its occupants. Draco, having turned his attention to another and far more interesting textbook (A Wizard's Guide to the Top Glamour Charms), did not see her distress. Snape, on the other hand, merely looked on impassively while she placed her tomes on a nearby desk and pushed her bushy hair from her face.
"Professor Snape, I'm ready for my extra credit assignment," she managed all in one exhaling breath.
"Extra credit?" Draco inquired, looking up and catching Hermione's attention.
"Are you doing extra credit too, Malfoy?" the girl sighed. Ever since Draco had been ill, Hermione had somewhat guiltily jumped at the opportunity to finally best him in Potions.
"No," Draco replied slowly, closing his book. "I believe I am the extra credit assignment."
"Pardon?"
"Ironic, isn't it, Miss Granger?" Snape interjected. "You can finally top the best student in Potions by helping him recover his usual standing."
"But wouldn't that make us both top students? Or would that mean I would be top student again?" Draco asked, tapping a finger against his chin in mocked rumination. "Or maybe you can just give us both gold stars? I think I'd rather have that…"
Turning to Hermione, Snape deadpanned. "It seems to our great relief that Mr. Malfoy has not lost his sense of humor despite his trials. Indeed, it seems to improve with health. Though his wit has not." He peered down his hooked nose at the brunette Gryffindor. "I sincerely hope that that is not true of you as well, Miss Granger."
"Uh, no, sir?" she replied uncertainly.
"Good. I need to fetch some items from storage." Snape barked to Draco, "you may fill her in," before he left in a flourish of robes.
"He always gets snappish when he's a bit nervous or emotional," Draco said as he leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps he fancies you?"
"Arggh," was the only response Draco received. He leaned forward, allowing his weight, slight as it was, to right the chair on its four legs. "But let me guess, you, like everyone else, are in love with Potty."
Hermione blushed at Draco's observation and turned her back to him.
He had only been teasing her, a residue of his resentment over the attention lavished on the Boy-Who-Lived. But he could tell by her flushed cheeks that he had been right on the mark. He felt a sudden surge of pity for Ron Weasley. It was obvious to everyone the tall redhead was smitten with the bushy haired girl. Draco, having been touched by actual affection, shuddered to imagine what it would be like to have it torn away from him.
"Poor Weasel, huh? Always in the shadow of the Boy-Who-Lived," he said musingly more to himself than her. "And loses the girl to him too."
"That's why Ron will never know! That's why Harry will never know!" Hermione suddenly burst, whirling around to glare at the blond boy. She just as quickly twirled back and took a book off her towering stack. She slammed it open on the desk and said accusingly, "You sound like you speak from experience."
"Maybe I do."
Hermione did not attempt to hide her surprise. "Are you actually admitting-"
Draco held up a hand. "If you even think you're going to get an open confession from me about anything, you must be sick too."
Hermione's lips formed an 'O' as she realized what Draco meant. "Is this about you being sick?" She leaned towards him, her eyes lighting up.
"Well you don't have to be so happy about it," Draco pouted.
"Oh, come off it! That's not what I mean." Hermione reached for her stack of books again. "Start telling me about your symptoms. We're the two brightest students in our grade. We'll figure this out in no time."
"You know I'm second in class?" Draco asked, also reaching for a book. He nearly added, "And deserve to be, too?" But he didn't. The need to explain himself to her deflated almost at the same moment it had risen. After all, the girl he had taunted and hexed for the past five years didn't even blink twice about helping him. He didn't - couldn't - push for her recognition. And in any case, perhaps no one except Hermione could understand why Draco Malfoy, spoiled brat extraordinaire, never boasted about his grades but let others believe he was teacher's pet instead. For him, or at least, for the old him, there was no pride in saying he was second-best to a Mudblood. And now, there was no pride in making pretences to someone who truly had the heart of a Gryffindor and an understanding that crossed house lines.
And she did understand. Indeed, she knew all too well the slow pain of being second. She knew that the gap between first and second was always the widest and the most difficult to accept. And maybe she wasn't really second but she felt second anyway and that was what mattered, wasn't it? Ron perhaps fancied her but he would always be Harry's best friend first. And sweet, generous, entirely dense Harry would always treasure her for her loyalty and her intelligence, she was sure, but would never see her the way she wanted her to be seen in his eyes. Yes, second was a hard place to be and she had always imagined, even at the height of her distaste for him, that Draco Malfoy knew all too well what it felt to be second.
"Of course I know." Hermione said matter-of-factly, pushing her sympathy for the blond boy just below the surface. "I have to keep myself abreast of the competition after all. You excel in Potions, Transfigurations, and Charms. I suppose you are rather good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it's hard to tell since we've never had a proper teacher. But I'm much better at Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, History of Magic and Arithmancy. We're about even in Herbology and Astronomy. And oh, I have slightly better marks in Care of Magical Creatures though I suspect this has more to do with our instructor than either of us."
Draco let out a low whistle before furrowing his brow. "You didn't mention Divination."
"It's not worth mentioning," Hermione sniffed.
Draco allowed himself a small smile. "You're right, Hermione." He didn't mention he got an O in it but of course, during the exam, he also pretended he had dreamt of being Transfigured into a purple cow that had flown over the moon.