In a world of hurt, he was good.

-

Taylor

Brewing the Peace Draught proved to be much more difficult than anticipated. Firstly, she couldn't find the ingredients. She ended up borrowing from Collin. Then, no matter how hard she tried, how focused she was, Taylor couldn't get anything right. Her measurements were off. She had powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn. She scooped up some of the powdered moonstone, but it was too much. She poured some back out, but then there wasn't enough. She didn't have the time to add it little by little until it was perfect. She decided that she could use a little extra of this, and less of the other ingredients. What did Snape say? If you are too light-handed with the ingredients, the drinker can fall into heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep. Or was it heavy-handed? Whatever, she wasn't going to drink it.

She added the powdered moonstone and - surprisingly - it turned the correct shade of green. Taylor stirred it until it turned blue, it was an off-blue, not completely correct. She disregarded this and continued adding more powdered moonstone until it was a purple-green color. Again, not correct, but close. She let it simmer until it was pink. She added the syrup of hellebore, allowed it to simmer, put in the powdered porcupine quills, stirred it, simmered it, added in the powdered unicorn horn, stirred it, simmered it, more powdered moonstone, more powdered porcupine quills, more stirring, more simmering. Then finally, exactly 7 drops of syrup of hellebore.

Shit that was nine.

She accidentally went too quickly and-

No matter, she was done. It was hard to tell how correctly she brewed it. It was almost the right color, barely emitting the silvery vapor that indicates a good batch. She followed the instructions very carefully, it is an extremely dreadful potion to make. More so when she couldn't measure anything correctly. She reckoned her measurements were off because of the same reason her supplies were out of place, and why the ingredients she needed seemed to hide from her. Malfoy. Why now? He's had two years before to pick on her. 

Snape's reaction to Taylor's potion wasn't surprising. He looked down at it, said in an ever-so-monotone voice, "Wrong," and walked to the next student. When he got to Draco Malfoy, he paused. "You're draught is perfect, Draco. Well done. Ten points to Slytherin." 

Taylor scoffed. Of course, his was perfect. It was the perfect shade of shimmery turquoise and had perfect silver vapor rising from it. Its effects would be perfect, too. And now he and his perfect potion earned Slytherin ten points. What a fucking joke. Hers would have been better if he hadn't tampered with everything.

After class, she decides to walk around the courtyard for a few minutes. Fred and George Weasley were running somewhere in a hurry, huge smiles plastered on their faces. She'd seen Ron and Harry walking together one moment ago, but now Hermione was with them, and she wondered when she got there. Heidi was flying with some of her Quidditch friends above her. It was a beautiful day outside, the grass was wet from the recent storms, but there was not a single grey cloud in sight. Also, no Malfoy. None of his Slytherin friends either. Taylor took this as a win and continued her lap around the courtyard. There were butterflies that changed from yellow to blue to purple. They chased each other around, landing on the flowers every so often.

She hears Seamus Finnegan calling, "He's been spotted!"

"Who?" Another Gryffindor girl asked. "Sirius Black!"

That had been enough for Taylor to turn and walk, rather quickly, to her common room. When she entered, Cedric Diggory sat on the couch, doing homework. When he sees her, he tells her that someone had dropped off a Draught of Peace for her. She rolls her eyes, hoping it wasn't the perfect one Malfoy had made. But she desperately needed some peace. Thinking about Sirius Black, free from Azkaban, roaming around. It made her shudder. She gives Cedric a smile and thanks to him, opening the potion to drink it. She takes one sip and almost immediately falls to the ground. Cedric sprung up and hurried over to her. The potion dropped from her hand. The glass vial shattered and the blue liquid was spilled over the floor. It was blue, not turquoise. 

Cedric picked her up and rushed to the hospital wing, passing Malfoy and his friends. Pansy snickered. "What's so funny Parkinson?" Blaise questioned her. "I guess her potion really was a failure, pity." 

Draco seemed furious. "You didn't seriously give it to her." 

"Yep. And the Mudblood was dumb enough to drink it." Her grin was evil. "Why do you care about her?"

"I don't," Draco hissed, "I care about us not getting in trouble. If anyone finds out that was you- You'll lose Slytherin a hundred points." Pansy ignored him.

-

Taylor woke in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey by her side. No sign of her friends, there weren't even any other students in the wing. She was lucky, Madam Pomfrey told her. She was only asleep for six or seven hours. It could have been far worse. She asked Taylor if she knew who gave her the potion. Not wanting to create more trouble for herself, she shook her head.

As she left the hospital wing, still feeling overwhelmingly tired, Draco's face appeared when she turned the corner. He had been waiting for her to wake up. Taylor scoffed, "I didn't tell on you if that's what you're here for." She walked right past him, and he followed.

"For your information, Tiny, I'm here to apologize. I didn't know Pansy was going to give you a botched potion." He sounded far too agitated for something that was supposed to be an apology.

Parkinson. Of fucking course. "Why do you care? I'm just a worthless Mudblood, right?" She was extremely exhausted and just wanted to be back in her common room. Draco had stopped in his tracks, suspiciously, she thought. His words were quiet, "I never said you were worthless."

Her mind was hung up on the name. Tiny. What was that supposed to mean? He probably means it in a rude way, because Taylor was only 152 centimeters, which was short regardless, but especially for her age. Her waist was small and her legs were thin. She rolled her eyes and continued walking. Draco didn't follow her.

-

Draco

Her words surprised him. Why do people keep asking if he cares? He doesn't. Obviously. He only felt bad for what Pansy did, what was wrong with that? But now he felt bad for another reason. His meaningless words seemed to hurt Taylor. She said he thought she was worthless. But if he never said that, then it means she thinks it about herself, right? He stood motionless in the corridor, watching her walk away. He stood there until after she was out of sight. In the pockets of his robes was his potion, brewed perfectly. He wanted to give it to her but didn't have the chance to.

He feels stupid for calling her Tiny. Super goddamn original, he thought. But he's gotta stick to it now. Why did he feel so drawn to Taylor Bristol? He shouldn't. He's a Slytherin, she's a Hufflepuff. If he wanted to talk to her or even be in her presence, he can't be nice. He has friends and a reputation. He doesn't have her. He didn't dare risk what he had for a chance at what he doesn't. That didn't mean he couldn't think about her. Her long, brown hair. Her bright blue eyes. Her flawless skin. The way she did things so exact, and how she chose her words so carefully. 

That day was on his mind for the rest of the week. He knew she would be upset if her potion bottles and cauldron weren't in the right spot. He knew it would annoy her if she couldn't find the ingredients. He knew she would be frustrated if she couldn't get the right measurements, and therefore a botched potion. He knew she would be embarrassed by Snape, and hate the sight of his praise. But if he knew this, why did he do it?

To anyone else, the answer would be "because he's a dick, a Slytherin, and a Malfoy."

He couldn't figure out the truth. Yes, he had a reputation to uphold. Did he really hate Mudbloods that much? Sorry, muggle-borns? No. Some days he couldn't care less about blood status. But it was all his father cared about. He didn't necessarily like that he came from a rich, powerful line of witches and wizards. It had its advantages, definitely. But when it came down to it, Draco just wanted peace. If that was possible.

-

sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the last. I'm excited to get deeper into this story but be patient with me, school is starting soon so I'm not sure how much time ill have. I'm going to try and write as much as I can before then. ily