TWISTED [D.M.]

04

Looking around her, Eleanor was sad to think that in a couple of months, these people will grow to hate her; they will grow to blame her for all the misfortunes that will happen. Hell, half of the people in the room probably won't even be alive in a year or two. And Eleanor Morgenstern, along with the rest of the Death Eaters, will be to blame.

Glancing at the boy next to her, Eleanor studied his profile. Draco really has grown over the years. His once boy-like features have evolved, his jawline becoming more prominent, as well as his cheeks, and the crinkle by his eyes. He wore a tired and lifeless expression as he rested against his left palm.

She snapped back into reality when Harry Potter and Ron Weasley stumbled into the classroom to which Slughorn exclaims, "Ah! Harry, my boy!"

Draco sneered at the scene. Of course, Potter's already sucked up to the Professor. They probably acquired the same thought. Perhaps to compensate for his lack of skills in Potions.

"You know, Malfoy, your hatred for that boy never fails to amuse me." She mused.

"I'm glad, because it's not going away any time soon."

This earned him a quiet chuckle.

After Potter and Weasley finished wrestling over the remaining textbooks in the locker, they took a seat across from the two Slytherins.

"Now, as I was saying, I prepared a few concoctions for you lot this morning. Any idea what these . . ." He gestured to the vials in front. "Might be?"

Of course, the Granger girl raised her hand, naming the potions. Veritaserum, a truth serum and Amortentia . . . a love potion, she said.

It's as if the other girls were magnetically drawn to the aforementioned potion, including Pansy, who looked like she wanted to snatch it and run.

"It's rumored to smell differently to each person, according to what attracts them." Hermione took in a deep breath. "For example, I smell . . . freshly mown grass, new parchment, and spearmint toothpaste."

Eleanor raised a delicate eyebrow and whispered to Draco, "I didn't know a workaholic like her could actually find the time to be in love with someone."

Draco snickered.

After a moment, he asked her, "Well, what do you smell?"

Eleanor frowned at the question, yet entertained it nevertheless.

"If you tell me what it smells like to you."

Surprisingly, he nodded.

After him, she subtly leaned in towards the lethal vial so that no one else in the class would assume that she's another desperate school girl.

She took a whiff and leaned back into her chair quickly, a confused expression plastered on her face.

"Well?" Draco prodded.

"I-I . . . I smell dust, old parchment paper . . . and mahogany. I think."

Eleanor knew she didn't have the best childhood, the best past. She was a Death Eater at the age of 17, for Merlin's sake. However, it shocked her that Amortentia didn't take the scent of someone she knew. The scent was oddly familiar though.

She's had a fair share of boys in her life, albeit, none of them were actually serious, so she didn't expect any of their scents to protrude from the potion. Yet, her family . . . they had to count for something, right? She would have at least expected to catch a whiff of her mother's vanilla perfume, or her father's musky aftershave.

She thought Draco would be equally confused, as everyone in the class was mentioning scents. Wood, rainy days, the smell of old novels . . . But no, he simply looked at her with a blank face. "Yeah, I don't know what I smell. I can't place a finger on it."

With what will soon ensue, there was no chance of them ever finding out what they love. Eleanor's just glad she's not doing all of this alone.

"Sir?" A Gryffindor called out for the professor's attention. "You haven't told us what's in that one."

"Ah, yes," Slughorn remembered, moving to obtain the tiny vial. "What you see before you is a curious little potion called Felix Felicis, or commonly known as-"

"Liquid Luck." Hermione finished.

"Yes, miss Granger. Liquid Luck. Desperately difficult to make, disastrous if you get it wrong."

He continued, "One sip and you'll find that all your endeavors will succeed."

Eleanor perked up, as well as Draco, at the mention of the potion's effects.

"Getting our hands on that . . ." Draco started. She just nodded in response, too aware of what he meant.