This Is War

Complication of Things

There it was again, another book. Another book about the fabulous use of PolyJuice Potion, of who created it, why it was created, how it's brewed, and the thousand of reasons why it's both beneficial and a threat to the Wizarding World.

There were more than ten-thousand books in the library of Hogwarts, and never thinking that she'd see the day she would say this, but Hermione Granger thought they were all useless right about now. It was like her friends—all these beautifully informative books, ancient and a few decades old—were hiding the answer among them, excluding her out like Lavender Brown had done their Sixth Year when she whispered behind her back with the other girls.

"Useless, useless," she groaned in a heavy desperation, tossing another book to a pile beside her armchair. "I'm never going to find it."

Having had submerged herself in another pile of books like she'd been doing for the past two or three weeks, Hermione was oblivious to the outside world when that bubble of stubbornness and determination took over her. If she had been paying attention when she sat herself down beside the fireplace, she would've seen a few curious eyes glance back and forth to her.

Among those curious glances was a friend of the Slytherin Prince. She wondered why Draco Malfoy had been driving himself mad with every flip of a page he would give to all those books.

Shaking her head, Daphne Greengrass stood from her side of the common room, leaving her books and homework behind as she approached him. "What are you looking for, Malfoy?"

Hermione picked up another book, opening it to the index and scanning what it had to offer.

"Malfoy?"

'PolyJuice Potion: Early Roots as SoloJuice Potion.' Hermione groaned. There was a time when she, Harry and Ron would've found a use on how to make a PolyJuice Potion that was far simpler than the one they had to brew many times before, but now was not one of those times. She just needed to find a damn spell, potion, or something that explained her current predicament.

"Malfoy." Tap.

Feeling rough fingers touch her shoulder, Hermione looked up and found the dark eyes of a blonde witch staring back at her, annoyed and amused at the same time.

Finally getting her classmate's attention, Daphne smirked knowingly at the boy. "My, Draco, you're sure giving that Granger girl a run for her galleons."

Hermione shot her brows up, a little confused on what the girl was talking about—but in the reflection coming off of the girl's eyes, Hermione saw what she'd been staring at. It was Malfoy, sitting in an armchair and books scattered left and right; his blonde hair tousled in frustration.

 "Oh," she breathed, remembering who she was supposed to be, "Yeah. Just studying, you know."

"Right," Daphne snorted, leaning down and picking up one of the disregarded books he'd dropped. "You're looking for something — what is it? I haven't seen you this engulfed in textbooks since last year. And we all know what that was about."

In the armchair, Draco Malfoy looked confused, but was quick to shake away the girl's comment.

"Well," Daphne called him again, opening the book she'd gotten, "what are you looking for? Maybe I can help you. You might not be competing with Granger, but I reckon I've read at least half of the books she has in the library. I can be of some use."

Hermione made Malfoy's body sit up taller, clearing his throat as she narrowed his silver eyes at her. Yeah, like she could tell Daphne Greengrass what she was desperately researching. One word of what she and Malfoy had gotten themselves into and there would be a riot that would distract the war going on outside.