Blood Magic

Disbelief & Fainting Spells

The sun was peeking through the clouds from the tallest tower of the castle. The foliage was turning with the help of the crisp autumn air. Trees were speckled with orange and red. Draco was eagerly awaiting for all of it to wash away and be replaced with much colder temperatures and gray skies. While most of his friends enjoyed the autumn scenery, he was much more devoted to the winter.

It was the first day of classes and the school was bustling with life. Students were dressed in their appropriate robes and carried their books with eager excitement. But were they excited for classes to resume... or for the chance to spot the elusive 'mystery student of the dungeons'? Everyone was vigilant on their way to their first class.

Meanwhile, Draco carefully dressed himself in his specially made robes, making sure that every vital part of his skin was somewhat covered. He double checked his class schedule he had received along with the other school supplies the house elf had dropped off. 'Defense Against The Dark Arts' was his first class.

Seeing the course title almost made him shudder.

"Well, at least McGonagall has a sense of humor,"  he thought to himself.

He draped the thick, velvet hood over his white hair and grabbed his books. He eyed the clock on the wall and felt his stomach lurch. Good God, this is truly happening.

With one last glance around his secluded chambers, Draco crossed the protected barrier and braced himself for the outside world. He traced through the winding corridors as fast as a flicker of light. Not one person managed to spot him successfully.

By the time he reached the door of the classroom he could hear the professor reading off the attendance list. Draco took in a deep breath and slipped, quietly through the doors.

The room was dim. Thankfully all the other students were too engrossed in listening for their names to be called to notice he had just walked in. He swiftly spotted an empty seat located all the way in the back of the room. He silently sat down and began observing the others around her.

His senses were going wild. Every student carried a different, unique scent to them. And much to Draco's dismay, he knew a good handful of the people there. For instance, the vampires immediately spotted Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom sitting just two rows away from the podium. He could tell it was them merely by the color of their hair. And sitting at the table adjacent to them was Ginny Weasley and the infamous Harry Potter.

Where's Granger? His instincts were screaming at him to seek her out. His red eyes scanned the room like a hungry wolf. After that killer dream he had, he was desperate to catch the dark honey color of her irises.

Yet, still he couldn't make out her bushy brown hair from the rest of the crowd. Oh, but he could certainly smell her. That hint of vanilla with a sugary twist wafted through the air like an unexpected surprise. The scent had his creature whirling while he was growing more agitated by the second.

Where the hell is she?

"Hermione Granger?" Malfoy's heart skipped a literal beat when he heard a soft voice speak out.

"Here ."

Draco's head snapped in the exact direction from where the sound came from. His eyes couldn't fathom what he was seeing. Tucked away on the complete other side of the room, with her head bent down was the all-knowing Gryffindor Princess herself.

His face twisted into a questioning scowl. What the hell was she doing so far away from the rest of her little group? And had she spoken in such a meager tone? Where was his once proud and confident girl who wouldn't cower in the face of danger?