Pure at Heart

She was always deemed exceptional, intelligent, and courageous. No matter how flattering these bestowed entitlements were to her, she was never particularly, entirely content. Deep within her, there was always something absent – a piece severed and stolen from inside her very soul. Don’t be deceived though, because she was quite pleased with herself personally. Her future was clear and like clockwork; she took pride in this fact. Eventually, though, she became immune the praise and glory of being an overachiever; such things didn’t bequeath quite the same effect as they did earlier in her career at Hogwarts. As human nature usually insists, she needed something more, something she’s never had.

“Hermione,” a voice called.

Her eyelashes fluttered her back to reality as her head lifted from the cradle of her palm. She turned her attention to the source of the voice – Ronald Weasley. Ron was positioned across the library from the table Hermione daydreamed at, paging through a book he had acquired from the large shelf before him. He glanced up in her direction to see her staring curiously at him and summoned her with a wave of his hand. Hermione pushed off from the table and grabbed her belongings before accompanying her friend.

“Should I bother reading this?” Ron asked as he closed the book to expose the cover – Brogans’ Big Chase.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied simply.

“Well, you ought to know. You’ve always got your nose in one of these…,” Ron paused as a look of disgust erupted on his face, as if he were about to spew, “books.”

“Not always,” she animated with a roll of her eyes.

“Gosh, Hermione, I even made a face at the word ‘books’, and you didn’t even rush to defense,” Ron humored. “Is there something wrong?”

“Fine,” she spat, “it looks foolish.”

“More the reason to get it,” Ron said through a pleased smile as he tucked it in his armpit.

Disgusted, Hermione shook her head, parted ways from Ron and found herself wondering along the bookshelves, using her index finger to read each books’ spine. She was uncertain of what exactly her intent was, but when she came across it, she was positive she would know. Slowly, she began drifting into sections of the library she would never dare to venture into; she only ever used the sections required for her schoolwork. Finally, her finger came across and intriguing title: Affectus Amor. Hermione knew her etymology well enough to know that this meant: The Emotion of Love. Her slender fingers wrapped around the binding of the book, however, when she coxed it out halfway, she hesitated.

“Why would I waste my time on such an impractical book?” she mumbled to herself as she pursed her lips.

“Hey, Hermione,” a voice spoke directly in her ear.

She jumped as she suppressed a scream into a mere squeal. Swiftly, she shoved the book completely into its slot and gave her attention to Ron once more. After shooting her a suspicious glance, he shook her strangeness off and continued,

“How about this one?” he showed her a cover bearing a cliché image of a green witch stirring her cauldron. “Gurty’s Magical Cauldron.”

“Remind me, how old are you?” she smirked.

“Why can’t this reading assignment just be enjoyable?” Ron whined as he shoved the book into a random empty slot.

“Because it’s schoolwork,” Hermione responded modestly, “and I, myself, quite enjoy reading assignments.”

Ron mumbled curses as carried on with his search for a book, leaving Hermione alone once more. She inspected both ends of the aisle for any other students before reaching for the same book again. This time she completely yanked it out of its spot. She then blew on the cover to rid a blanket of dust, which uncovered artwork of everything pertaining to love – hearts, doves, roses.

“Well, it couldn’t hurt just to read it,” she mumbled to the air.
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Evening fell upon Hogwarts, which meant, after enjoying a filling meal in the Great Hall, the students nestled into their dormitories. Hermione was especially eager to occupy the Gryffindor dormitory. In fact, she immediately zipped up the steps to her bed and tore a pillow from her neatly situated covers to reveal the book she had early placed her hands upon. With the book in tow, she hopped onto her bed, crossed her legs, and flipped open the cover.

Her reading continued through the late night, however until her roommates extinguished all lighting existing in the room. Hermione shot them glares through the fresh darkness of the room. Her hand then explored the nightstand beside her where her fingers wrapped around her thin wand.

“Lumos,” she whispered as she pointed the wand toward the aging pages of the book.

The wand lit up with the florescent orb at its tip – making the pages visible to her once more. She reached halfway through the book when she realized beyond her window a light brim the distant mountains. Her heart sputtered as she realized that morning was now replacing the once night-ridden vicinity. Around her, she heard her roommates yawn and rise from their beds. It was officially morning at Hogwarts and Hermione failed to catch even the slightest bit of sleep… how was she supposed to focus during lessons today with a nonexistent amount of slumber?

“Hermione, have you been reading all night?” Parvati Patil questioned groggily.

“No,” Hermione responded all too hastily. “I simply got an early start and decided to read.”

“You’ve absolutely been reading all night,” Lavender Brown chirped in. “You’ve got the darkest bags under your eyes that I have ever seen.”

When Hermione grew quiet, the pair continued their nagging.

“What are you reading anyways?” Lavender questioned as her feet made contact with the cold, wood floor. “It must be a good read if you can’t possibly handle putting it down.”

Hermione shut the book and shoved it back under her pillow as Lavender grew closer to her bed. As Lavender reached towards Hermione’s pillow, she instinctively placed a hand on top to prevent Lavender from yanking the book back out.

“Come on, Hermione, what’s there to hide?” Parvati mocked as she too grew nearer.

Hermione was surrounded and edgy.

“It’s not any of your business,” she spat as she guarded the pillow that hid the book.

However, despite her attempts to keep the book uncovered and secured, Lavender’s greedy fingers somehow slipped past Hermione’s defense. Lavender’s eyes lit up and her lips curled into a vile smirk as she took in the cover. Parvati sauntered over to Lavender’s side to only bear the exact expression as Lavender.

“Affectious Amor?” Lavender stated in a questioning tone.

“Affectus,” Hermione corrected as she felt her cheeks turn hot.
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Later that day, in Potion class, Hermione had drifted off into a reverie. Her mind tossed about – throwing words and ideas around that she had gained from her endless night of reading. The book had started, “Love – the most powerful magic”. This fact has intrigued Hermione effortlessly and she hungered to gain more knowledge on such a power.

“This potion does create powerful infatuation or obsession,” stated Professor Slughorn as he introduced the unknown substance.

Hermione snapped out of her daze and raised her hand abruptly – a few Slytherin groaned to express their displeasure. Her sudden movement attracted Professor Slughorn’s attention.

“Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“A love potion,” Hermione stated confidentally.

“Correct,” Slughorn nodded. “The most powerful love potion specifically being –”

“Amortentia,” Hermione blurted.

Professor Slughorn shot a glance at Hermione before continuing,

“Which is what we’ll be making today in class. First, I want every one of you to take a good whiff of the Amortentia brewing in this very cauldron,” he spoke to the class as he lay his hand above rising, pink cloud from the brewing concoction.

Hermione keenly pushed her way to the front of the group crowded around the cauldron.

“I smell freshly dampened soil and leather,” announced a girl, giddily.

“Well, I smell polished wood and freshly cleaned linen,” another exclaimed.

Hermione continued to push her way through the thickening crowd until the cauldron was completely in her view. She took the chance when it was unoccupied to take a whiff herself. She felt her stomach flutter like butterflies as the scent of the potion work its way through her entire nasal cavity. Instantly, she felt pleasant and completely happy – she was weightless and ready to fly.

“I smell freshly mowed grass, new parchment, and something else,” she spoke breathlessly as she thought about the third scent. “The third scent is something familiar, like a shampoo or soap… but not the flowery kind.”

She failed to take notice that the other students pushed her aside as they hungrily fought to smell the potion’s fumes. Hermione was all too busy deciphering the scent, however, just as fast as the three scents hit her senses, they had left her feeling empty and not completely whole once more. Though, she was determined to grasp at what the third scent could be. She had read in the book the scents could unfold the things she finds most attractive – even the person she secretly finds most appealing. Once more, she fought for a spot at the cauldron and took in the aroma again.

The scent was vaguely familiar and made her head spin in delight. The scent most comforted her and it was a scent she most longed for. The scent happened to be no other than – no, it couldn’t be…

“Ron Weasley’s hair,” she whispered to herself.