Fandom Imagines

Draco imagine

This class is absolute rubbish. Honestly, what is the point of it? All of us are just sitting here, staring into crystal balls, pretending to see something. I could most definitely be doing better things at this moment. Especially if I were in potions. That class is my favorite. It always has been, really. Of course, it doesn't help that I've always been in there with a certain Slytherin. For some reason, the school had messed up my schedule in my first year. I still had all of the classes that were required, but for some reason, they had put me into potions with Gryffindor and Slytherin. When I went to Professor Flitwick, I requested to stay in that class and, after some argument, he finally agreed. So now, six years later, I'm sitting in Advanced Potions with the one and only Draco Malfoy. Or, at least, I will be when this silly waste of my time is over.

"(Y/N)... (Y/N)! Class is over. Surely you don't want to stay here any longer than you have to." I look up at my best friend, a smile breaking across my face. Finally. Bolting out of my seat, I practically fly through the trap door and down the spiral staircase. Only when I see the familiar mop of white blonde hair do I slow down. I wind up just in front of him going down the dark stairs to the dungeon where our class is held. Potter is just ahead of me, tailed by those two friends of his that never seem to leave his side. They're alright, I suppose. Honestly, I enjoy Hermione's company. She's intelligent enough to be in Ravenclaw. The other two, however, I have no clue as to how they got in this class, but they're friendly enough.

Stepping over the threshold to the class, I'm enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort. The teacher, Professor Slughorn, stands smiling in the middle of the room, a strange sense of pride hanging over him.

"Hello, class! Please, quickly now. Go to each of your tables." we do as he says, but before I can make it to the table that I normally share with the other Ravenclaw kids, Slughorn points to me and tells me to fill the empty seat at another one. Then he points, right next to Draco. My eyes widen as the realization of what's happening hits me. Six years I've been in this class and never once in those six years did I have to so much as look at him. Why now?! Ugh. Alright. I'll just have to get over it. Taking a deep breath I readjust my books in my arm and walk over to take my new seat. Once everyone is settled, Slughorn smiles at us and explains our task. Apparently each table has a different potion, and we are meant to identify our own.

After everyone else had set in and started working, the Slytherin table continued to talk quietly amongst themselves and ignore the task alltogether. So, rather than wait for them, I begin working on my own, observing each and every little detail. The color of it, a kind of pearly sheen, the spiraling smoke billowing off of it, and the smell, a strange, oddly pleasing mixture of lemons and aftershave. All of this, these properties, they belong to-
"Amortentia. But, I presume you'd already deduced that." My breath catches in my throat as his deep voice greets my ears. Looking over, I find that he's moved closer to me, his chest inches away from my arm. His eyes are locked on mine and there's a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You are a Ravenclaw, aren't you?"

"Y-yes. I am."

"I thought so. You know, for a while I thought you were a Gryffindor, you being in our class and all. But then when you didn't show up to our other joint classes, well, I took an interest and figured it out. You're (Y/N). I'm Draco. But, it is nice to finally meet you." He holds out his hand to me and I grab it gingerly. "So, what did you smell?"

Before I have a chance to answer him, Professor Slughorn speaks up and tells us all that time's up. He begins at Potter's table, going around the room and asking everyone what they had. Most of them got it wrong. "Alright. Last table! What did you come up with?"

"Um, well, we've come up Amortentia."

"Precisely! And, Mr. Malfoy. What did you smell?"

"I, uhm, well I smelled flowers and coconut." My eyes widen as the words leave his mouth. My shampoo smells like coconut and my perfume smells like flowers. But, no. I'm sure there are plenty of girls who have that type of scent combination. None that I can think of, but still. It couldn't possibly be true.

"Well, that's certainly a unique combination." That's the last thing that Slughorn says before moving on. But rather than listening to the rest of the lesson, I glance over at Malfoy to see him looking at me, waiting to see if I had picked up on it. When he sees that I did, a faint blush taints his usually pallid face, and his hand comes up to rub nervously at the back of his neck. We both avert out gazes and I do my best not to dwell on what's just happened. But only seconds later, a slip of parchment has been pushed in front of me. Opening it, I find Draco's slanted handwriting.

So, what did you smell?

The words are so simple, and yet they make my heart beat ten times faster. Picking up my quill, I scribble my response.

Lemons and aftershave.

Passing it back to him, I look back up to Slughorn, who remains completely oblivious to what is going on. A small sigh is the only sound that I can hear before he writes something else and gives the parchment back to me. My heart must have stopped when I read what was on the page.

Would you care to go to Hogsmeade with me the next time we go? I'd like to get to know you better.

My writing is quick and sloppy, but I get the message across, at least.

Of course. I'd like that, too.

After that day, I was never able to pay attention in divination again.