"Half blood prince? What the bloody hell is a half blood prince?" Ron asks confusedly. He leans over me to try and peer over at the open book resting in Hermione's lap.
His warm breath puffs softly against the side of my cheek from his new closeness in proximity while the heat radiating off his body envelops me comfortingly as if he's wrapped me in a large bear hug.
Subtle traces of sweet butterscotch candies mixed with the light scent of his cologne courses through my senses as he crans his neck some more to get a clearer view at the object of interest.
My eyes curiously fall to his chest that is now centimeters away, watching curiously as his sternum rises and falls at an even rate to match his steady breathing pattern. Ron leans back slightly, large hand span gripping at his thighs for support with the shift in weight.
My eyes trace along the prominent veins surfacing just below his pasty skin, intricately trailing their way from strong hands up the length of his forearms before disappearing against taught biceps under pushed up jumper sleeves. The sight is enough to get my heart pounding.
I blink heavily to rid myself of the trance before glancing back to the book in Hermione's lap. Seconds later Ron gasps loudly enough in my ear to cause me to startle, a breathy gasp escaping my own lips as his body grazes heavily against my shoulder.
He frantically kicks his long legs out as he loses his balance and nearly tumbles off his perch from the arm of the sofa.
Harry, Hermione and I shoot him an unamused glance at his clumsiness. Ron holds his palms up sheepishly in surrender as we all re-shift our attention back to the mysterious book.
"Harry where did you get this?" Hermione questions, tilting the book upwards slightly to better inspect the three words scrawled in dark ink across the top of the title page.
"It was the book I chose at the start of the term." Hermione glances out of the corner of her eye to Harry who's perched on the opposite arm of the sofa from Ron. "Actually the book kinda chose me I guess. " Harry continues nervously when Hermione raises an apprehensive brow at the uncertainty present in his tone. "What? It was the only one left. Ron got the last good one" Harry leans back to glare harshly at Ron.
Hermione sighs defeatedly while flipping through the torn pages, stopping when she comes across the Draught of Living Death we had worked on earlier. Hermione quickly trails her finger down the length of the torn page, her index sliding smoothly beneath the crinkled corner. Just as she's about to turn the page, something just barely catches my gaze.
"Hermione, look!" I reach over her and tap the margin lightly. There, just barely visible in the faintest and tiniest handwriting, is notes scribbled messily along the length of the page.
Hermione pulls the book up closer to her face to decipher the faded ink, and leaning into her shoulder we both begin to scan the notes littering the margin.
-Use 13 beans not 12. Sopophorus bean should be crushed with a silver dagger, not cut, as it releases juices more efficiently in this manner.
- Add a clockwise stir after every 7th counterclockwise stir
"Whoever the book belongs to knows what they're doing with potions" I mumble lightly to myself. Hermione turns to look at me curiously, furrowing a brow as she contemplates the words.
"It must have been a student from ages ago. I mean the book is old, it's practically falling apart." She says with confidence in her answer. I glance to her in confusion, my body tensing when my stomach begins twisting with uncomfortable knots.
