Diamonds

5. Take Control

Draco looked up as a thump came from his left, and looked across the aisle. His eyes widened. "Lots of books there, Hermione."

"What're you reading, Draco?" She slid into the seat, breathing slightly unsteady from the combination of the hard work of lugging her private library around the school and of irritation. The chatter behind her back, insults about being a know-it-all or whatever unimaginative slur they had moved on to now, none of it was as subtle as they seemed to believe it was. She wasn't listening. You keep telling yourself that, Hermione.

"The list."

"The list-seriously? We go to the same school and you still get sent a list of everything I read? Who could you possibly have watching me in the Gryffindor common room?"

He smirked. "I have my sources. How have you had time to reread Hogwarts: A History again?"

"I'm organised. Draco-"

"What? Because if you're going to try to convince me that I don't need to get to know you, again, then -"

"I was going to say, before you interrupted me," he blinked at this; did I? That was odd, as he had never attempted to interrupt anyone else, at any point in his life. "That you could just get to know me by actually asking me. Or getting me to write out my reading schedule for you. That way, you might even be able to keep up."

He didn't have a chance to retort before Professor Snape began to take the register. It didn't escape the notice of either Draco or Hermione that he lingered on Harry Potter the longest, much to their annoyance. Just like Professor Flitwick, Hermione was thinking. Figures, was all Draco had to say-he hadn't been in that class; Gryffindor first years had Charms with Ravenclaw. "Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity." Draco snorted at that. Hermione shot him a glare that he didn't seem to notice.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Hermione had tensed up and moved right to the edge of her seat, Draco could see that. Perhaps it was because Professor Snape had implied that she was thick.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione raised her hand. Draco raised his eyebrows. "I don't know, sir," said Potter.

Snape curled his thin lips into a rather frightening sneer; Draco was glad that he was in Slytherin with the eerie potions master for head of house. At least he'd get favouritism working for him. Hermione's hand was ignored, though, which led to him frowning at the back of the Professor's head. Ask Hermione. "Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoars?"

Hermione's hand stretched further, though she didn't quite leave her seat. Draco turned around to watch Potter's face, his eyebrows as high as they could go. He couldn't feel himself trembling, though Hermione would point it out later. Ask Hermione.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Draco almost felt sorry for Potter, forced to meet Snaps' cold eyes for so long. If he were in any other house, there was a high chance that Snape would drop it. Of course he didn't, though, and of course he continued to ignore Hermione. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfs bane?"