Muggles ✧ Drarry

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ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.6k
ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ: ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ 21sᴛ, 2022
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After some frantic firecalls to Pansy, Blaise, Neville, Potter, and Weasley, they all met Draco and Granger in the blond's home. Granger, who was pacing to and fro looking through a thick book that she had nicked from the Manor's library about love spells, seemed anxious. She had everyone sit down the moment that they entered, Potter having side-alonged with Weasley and the rest through the floo.

Draco was confused but excited as Pansy was the last to arrive. She had appeared with an outfit that could only be described as scandalous, no doubt put on for Granger's eyes and admiration. Her makeup was dark and flattering, sharp edges making her soft face look simply breathtaking. Her shoes added a few inches to her height, though she was already taller than Granger by a bit. Her lips, colored black, were in a satisfied smirk when she saw the look on the bushy-haired woman's face. Draco could only roll his eyes.

"Draco, darling," she said with a smile. She kissed his cheek, and he was surprised to see in his reflection on the window that her lipstick had left no mark.

"You found a good recipe for your lipstick?" He asked, admiring his clean face in the window.

Pansy grinned. "Yes, I did. It's kiss-proof."

This caught Granger's attention more evidently than her red face, as she nearly tumbled over onto the sofa when she heard the way that Pansy had annunciated the word 'kiss'. Granger cleared her throat. "Uh, can we please discuss the makeup later? We have very important matters to attend to."

Pansy and Draco hurried to the sofas to join the others.

"What have you found, 'Mione?" Potter asked. He appeared to be tired, and Draco supposed that it was nighttime. Seeing how loyal Potter's friends were made Draco's heart beat a little harder. He supposed that being the greatest person in history probably provided some pretty great surrounding individuals, but seeing the way that they cared about him made it more real. Potter was just good.

"Harry," she smiled. "I've found the answer. In this." She handed one of the books in her hands to Potter.

"One Hundred and One Useless Potions by Professor Garrison Nickle," he read. "How did this help?"

Granger's smile widened. "See, the potions in this book have no useful effects as potions. They either do futile things that solve no problems whatsoever, or just take up space. In the realm of potion functionality, they do nothing."

"How does that help us, exactly?" Draco found himself asking. "I've read through that book before, it has nothing of consequence in it."

Granger tutted. "None of the potions do anything helpful, sure, but if they're brewed we don't know that they don't do anything."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that they serve no purpose physically, but they do serve a mental purpose."

Blaise let out an 'ahh' of understanding. "Like a distraction?"

Granger snapped her fingers. "Precisely. Draco, when you see a cauldron full of a substance, what do you think of?"

"Potions...?"

"Right! So if you were to see a cauldron full of a potion, and said potion was to be dumped on you, then any residual effects of the event would be blamed on the potion, right? You wouldn't be able to tell if, say, a spell were to be cast as well?"