REQUIREMENTS | DRACO MALFOY

8 | The Vial

Y/N

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"I HAVE TO run to the loo," I said to Harry, standing up from my spot at the table, "I'll be back."

I never really liked lying to my friends, especially Potter, but my curiosity was slightly more overpowering the more I thought about that vial in Draco's hand. Not just any vial, a vial full of Amortentia.

Stealing potions was punishable by suspension at Hogwarts, and what would Malfoy need with a love potion?

"Hurry back, then," Harry smiled, picking up his fork, "the food will have gone cold."

Nodding my head, I picked up the bottom of my robes and scurried down the aisle, hoping to catch up with the suspicious Slytherin that just left. It wasn't a moment of pride, or a moment of horrification that he stole a potion, it was pure curiosity.

Sometimes it doesn't need an explanation.

Draco stalked down the hallway, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight. The further I walked the more muffled the sounds of the Great Hall became, growing quieter, and quieter, and quieter until it was soon silent.

Sticking to the sides of the walls, I crept in the shadows in watching. Draco led me down an empty path, unaware that I was there, muttering things under his breath in stress—I was too far away to understand.

He kept winding down hallways, climbing up stairs, and hissing to himself, and I was about to give up on the chase. Draco wasn't that interesting, anyways.

Until he disappeared.

I came to a skidding stop in the middle of an empty hallway, looking around for the boy who was just in front of me. I saw him turn the corner, I swear I did, but where could he have gone?

Spinning around, I bit my lip in confusion, too distracted by the disappearance to notice the faint rumbling sound coming from behind me.

And then I was pulled backwards.

Someone's cold hand had clamped around my mouth, dragging me backwards into a room I didn't realize was there. Squirming about, I tried to escape their grip, but I was too weak—again. The wall closed in around me, trapping me inside a sickly familiar room.

With a sickly familiar voice.

"Following me, [l/n]?" They spat out, shoving me out of their hands, "didn't your parents ever teach you to mind your own business?"

As I stumbled onto my feet, I spun around to see Draco scowling at me in annoyance. I suppose it was explainable (considering I did follow him halfway across the school), but he didn't need to be so dramatic about it.

Idiot.

"If I see someone with stolen school property, I'm not going to mind my own business," I scowled, "you're a rotten thief, Malfoy."

He seemed to find that amusing, taking a step back into the faded shadows of the room, "wow, little miss Prefect, is it?"

I frowned, "I'm not a Prefect."

"Then stop acting like one," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes, "shouldn't you be making heart-eyes with Potter right now? Puckering up on the Quidditch field like earlier?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," I said, narrowing my eyes, "Harry isn't part of this conversation."

"I'm confused as to why we're even talking, Gryffindor."

I hated how that word slithered off of his mouth like an insult.

His pompous, high-class accent always made his words drip with disgust and hatred, making me feel like I was somewhat lesser compared to him. If anything, I held more power than his pureblood hands could ever dream of holding.

I literally slashed a sword through the Basilisk of his beloved house-founder, watching the snake die at my feet (yes, I did that. And you would do it too for a check).

It sounds morbid, but it's true (and, it was in fact, morbid).

"Why did you steal the potion, Malfoy?" I pressed, taking a step towards him, "what could someone like you possibly want with it?"

Needling Draco while stuck in the Room of requirement was a bad idea, but once again, my curiosity got the better of me. It always did; which is why I found myself getting into more trouble than I could count on my fingers.

The boy smirked.

"It's a love potion," he noted, slipping it out of his pocket to show me, "strongest in the world, Snape said, and I've got my eyes on a couple of Beauxbaton girls."

I rolled my eyes, "you're disgusting."

"Am I?"

"Can't score a girl, so you poison her into loving you? That's sick, Malfoy."

"Yeah, well I never asked for your opinion on me," he sneered, waving the vial in my face, "you were the one who followed me here, remember?"

Before I could respond to his question, he popped open the cork of the vial and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. I stumbled over my shoes, letting out an echoey yelp around the room, unable to lurch away. Draco swung the bottle under my nose, the potion's scent intoxicating my senses.

"What do you smell?" He asked, closing it back up and slipping it into his pocket.

For a moment I couldn't smell anything.

I could barely speak, every single hair on my body standing up, and my mouth sewn shut in surprise. It was like fireworks were popping off in my head, a dazzling show, and my blood started to rush fast and faster with each breath I took.

And as quickly as it started, it all came to a sudden stop, the smell of lemon, vanilla, and tree bark surrounding the room.

Lemon...vanilla...and tree bark.

No, that couldn't be right.

Draco's cologne was stinking up the room so much that I couldn't even smell the effects of the potion. I scrunched my nose, resisting the urge to waft it away with my hand. It didn't smell bad, I just didn't like the person the scent belonged to.

"Out with it, then," Malfoy urged impatiently, his eyes watching me intently, "what is it?"

I didn't have an answer, because I couldn't pinpoint the real smell. But it was a love potion, designed to radiate what you desired most, so what I should have smelled would have been:

"Harry," I said, trying to figure out what I would have smelled if Draco wasn't so overbearing with his own, "cinnamon and honey, to be exact."

I saw something flicker in Draco's eyes, and he pursed his lips into a thin line.

He didn't seem so pompous anymore, he just seemed irritated, and his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Maybe he finally realized how ridiculous it was to steal the potion.

He waved his hand, the sound of rumbling filtering back into the room as the door reappeared.

"Never follow me again," Draco said, turning his back towards me and walking out of the room.

Yet even as he left, the fresh air sweeping back into the space, his cologne still lingered.

Strange.