||Black Scarves and Careless Hearts|| A Dramione Fanfic

13. Alihotsy Draught

----
"I'm not an early bird or a night owl. Maybe some kind of permanently exhausted pigeon."
----

The next week passed by sooner than Hermione would have wanted. In between preparing armadillo bile to ship to Hogwarts, delivering several crates of potions to St Mungo's, squabbling with Draco about who's fact was most interesting, and trying to get Crookshanks to eat his dinner, the week seemed to flash past her. 

On Friday, just after break, when Hermione and Draco had gotten back to work, Mr. Blak hobbled over to the work area. 

Hermione had been dreading this all week.

Draco was forcibly grinding some Mooncalf horn, although it was already a very fine powder. Maybe he was aiming for cracking the mortar in two.

"So," Mr. Blak bounced a little on his feet, "This week, you'll be preparing-"

"I can't," Draco said, placing his pestle down and whirling around to face Mr. Blak, "I told you that I cannot work on weekends."

Hermione looked curiously at him, at some kind of passion underneath his hard features, the kind that she had never seen, or perhaps had never cared to notice. It burned like a fire in his eyes that were usually the color of ice. Gunmetal.

"I expect you can spare a few hours each day," Mr. Blak said, gentler this time, "If things are...serious...then you can tell me and I'll let the weekly assignment slip."

Only then did Hermione realise that it had something bigger than just wanting to spend time with his fiancée or friends. It was something more important. Only, Hermione didn't know what. 

Draco nodded and leaned back against the desk. 

"You'll be preparing Alihotsy Draught," Mr. Blak said.

Hermione nodded. It wasn't a hard potion to brew. 

"The importance of these assignments," Mr. Blak said, solemn again, "Is infinitesimal. You see, every year, St Mungo's hosts an examination for witches and wizards willing to apply."

Hermione's ears perked up on hearing the word examination.

"If you can get through," Mr. Blak went on, "You can apply for a job at St Mungo's as a potions handler, or as an assistant Healer. You will also receive a certificate, which will allow you to begin your own apothecary practice if you wish to do so. In other words, you will be promoted from apprentice to potioneer."

Eagerness grew in Hermione's mind. 

Her current job had a decent pay, and she was managing (atleast she had paid her laundry bill). If she were to get a job at St Mungo's, it would help her greatly. Maybe she could even-

"So these assignments are of great importance," Mr. Blak said, looking at each of them by turn, "To be able to take the examination, you need a recommendation by your Master or employer. If you wish to attain your approval and recommendation from me, I want you to be sincere about these weekly assignments."

Thankfully, for Mr. Blak had grown overly serious, the front door opened at that time and an old woman demanding Brain Elixir marched in, so Mr. Blak hobbled away. 

She would try her hardest, that was for sure. The only questionable thing was whether Draco would coordinate with her.

"We meet tomorrow at five in the evening at your place."

Hermione was started out of her little reverie when Draco spoke. He was frowning deeply at her. 

"Why at my place?" Hermione was apprehensive of having Draco in her living space, "Why not yours?"