Different Problems, Same Solution | Dramione

Chapter Two

Kingsley Shacklebolt, The Minister of Magic

Kingsley faced the council of witches and wizards in front of him, slightly frowning.

"So you want to give all witches and wizards age 17-20 a potion that will help them learn who their true soulmate is?"

"Indeed." A scruffy petit man nodded his head.

"But why?"

A blonde witch spoke up. "With the great war won, the wizarding population has decreased significantly, to the point at which it may go extinct."

A tall wizard chimed in. "With this potion, the soulmates can be found. A tattoo will appear over the drinker's heart, where it cannot be seen inder most clothing."

Kingsley furrowed his eyebrows. "But what does this have to do with the decreasing wizarding population?"

"Ah, Mr. Shaklebolt, you see." A blue-eyed woman spoke. "Upon knowing their true soulmate, the couple must get married and bear at least two children within three years."

Kingsley gaped at the group in front of him.

Draco

Draco woke up with a pounding headache, probably from the bass booming through his skull the night.

He opened his bedroom door to find red paper cups streamed across the floor, and the room reeked of wine.

He rolled his eyes and threw out all the paper cups. He then muttered a spell that got rid of the stench in his apartment. He had moved there and bought it with his own money so that his parents couldn't find him there. He also put up anti-apparation charms.

He sighed and plopped on the couch, but not before thinking about his brown-eyed neighbor.

He felt bad about last night, as he knew that she was head of her department in the Ministry in Magic, probably something to do with Care of Magical Creatures. Since even her Hogwarts years, she greatly sympathized for house-elves. How he came across that information, even he didn't know.

When someone mentioned her name, he seemed to zone everything else out and listen in on the conversation.

He wanted to repay her for the horrendous night. So, he put his cooking skills to use. Nobody knew that he could actually cook.

He decided to make simple cinnamon rolls. The reason for this was because whenever Hermione had come near him, she smelt like spices and something sweet, like flowers. In their last year of Hogwarts, they had been Potions partner, and one day they were making Amortenia.

*Sixth Year*

Draco rolled his eyes at his know-it-all partner, Hermoine, as her hand shot up in the air for what must have been the thousandth time within an hour. Hermione answered an unheard question from Professor Slughorn.

"Amortenia, sir."

"Very good, Hermione." His eyes crinkled. "And can you tell me what this potion is, exactly?"

Draco caught the minimal blush creeping through Hermione's cheek, he could only see it as they were sitting next together.

"Amortenia is a love potion. When brewed properly, it smells like your...true love." She whispered the end, blushing more profusely.

Her answer was obviously correct, and Draco watched her work in her natural element.

"Malfoy, get the ingredients." Draco wrinkled his nose slightly at her harsh tone, but he complied, not wanting her to hate him more than she already did.