The Facilitation of Felix

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything associated with the Harry Potter franchise, other than Giddy Juice.

- Hermione Granger, being fed up with Ron and Lavender's relationship, resorts to the use of Felix Felicis to terminate it. But with the meddling of one Draco Malfoy Pandemonium ensues -

T H E

F A N T A S T I C

F A C I L I T A T I O N

O F

F E L I X

F E L I C I S

--

Written by Ivana Review

© February 2008

Based on the Novel by J.K. Rowling

--

"Alohomora."

The faint sound of the Gryffindor Sixth Year Boys' Dorm lock clickingopen divulged to Hermione Granger that she had successfully broken into her best friend's and ex-best friend's dorm.

Yes, goody-goody Granger, resident bookworm of the Gryffindor House, and the brightest witch of her age was indeed breaking and entering.

What was Miss Granger's objective you might ask? Well, there are several answers to that question.

A solution.

Something that was rightfully hers.

Luck.

The trio does seem a bit outlandish to coincide with one another – particularly the last two – but indeed they do. In blatant terms Hermione Granger was looking for a little potion by the name of Felix Felicis.

The dormitory was notably messy, as the Gryffindor expected. She didn't know how boys could live like this, she wouldn't be able to find anything in this tumult, more specifically a tiny golden vial that the erroneous owner would've hidden quite vigilantly. The only bright side to this disarray was that she could ransack the room to her heart's content and it probably would look undisturbed.

"Accio Felix Felicis!"

When nothing happened the Muggle born witch almost laughed. A bottle containing one entire day worth of luck would not simply fly into the hands of anyone that summoned it, but it was worth the try. No, she would have to look for it the old fashion way.

The non-magical way.

Before beginning her rampage, Hermione checked the common room to make sure it was empty.

Not a soul to be seen – thank Merlin.

It was, after all, breakfast time in the Great Hall; almost every student would be there, eating for the day ahead, every student minus Hermione anyway. Looking all around the room, in every crevice that was possible for a human to reach, the Gryffindor found nothing.

But then a flash of light flickered out of the corner of her eye. Spinning abruptly, the brilliant Gryffindor saw that the sparkle was merely the sunlight catching the golden letters on a trunk, but not just any letters. HP.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed jovially. Scampering over the sealed trunk at the foot of the Boy-Who-Lived's bed; she flung it open.

Unfortunately, Harry did not keep his trunk the way he kept the rest of the room. It was fastidiously arranged, with his gold and maroon ties stacked in the corner and his shirts pressed and piled orderly, next to his black slacks. A dismayed sigh tumbled out the bushy haired brunette's parted lips. Disturbing this precision would make detection almost definite.

Straightening her shoulders, Hermione decided to take the chance. Trying to memorize the placement of the garments, to make replacing them easier, she took a moment to study the trunk. With a deep breath, she extracted the shirts, then the ties, shaking both piles genteelly, seeing if Harry had stashed the golden vial in there. When no such object tumbled out of the accouterments, the Gryffindor placed them off to the side and continued her pursuit.

Three pairs of black trousers, two sets black robes, and five pairs of assorted coloured boxers (which Hermione levitated off to the side, her cheeks burning in embarrassment) soon joined the stash. This left the receptacle nearly empty, with the exception of an ornate cloak – obviously Harry's invisibility cloak – a bare piece of parchment – the infamous Marauder's Map – and various books, broken quills with empty jars of ink and several pairs of worn out socks.

Her brown eyes bored into the blank and bewitched piece of parchment, as her Prefect instincts automatically kicked in, imploring her to turn in the prohibited artifact.

Alas, doing just that would result in an irate Harry. His inquires would result in opening a can of worms that Hermione prayed remained sealed.

Withdrawing the cloak from the equation, giving it a shake and seeing nothing drop out; she tossed it to the extraneous area with all the others.

Leafing through every book, the Gryffindor brunette found no secret compartment, along with the bottles. That left the socks. Almost a dozen duos of socks blanketed the bottom of the wooden container, all looking as flat as galleons. A tiny, round phial would stick out like a sore thumb, would it not?

Nevertheless, Hermione dislodged every sock from its rightful place and felt for the tiny jar. One by one the bottom of the trunk became more and more evident until there was only one pair left. She had spotted this specific couple from the beginning, but decided to search it last because, frankly, it reeked of a smell similar to Polyjuice potion, which of course she would know. Grabbing a random sock with one hand – for the other was too busy pinching Hermione's nose – and shaking it heartily: empty. That left one more possibility, if the Felix Felicis wasn't there then the entire venture was all for naught.

Tentatively, the brightest witch of her age lifted up the sock, it didn't feel any heavier then its predecessors, but nonetheless Hermione closed her eyes and held out her hand. Nothing happened for a second, two seconds, three seconds… but then –

Plop.

Hermione's hand felt a bit heavier. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and staring back at her was a little golden decanter, the same unopened bottle that Harry held in his hands after the Slytherin/Gryffindor Quidditch match. Her eyes shinning in both delight and incredulity, she stowed the potion safely in her robes.

Removing another phial from a separate pocket in her robe, Hermione replaced the luck elixir with a concoction of Butterbeer and a hint of Giddy Juice, a creation of the Weasley Twins that she had bought from them that day in their Joke Shop. It was a liquid pick-me-up according to Fred (or was it George?) that would relieve your stress and make you cheerful depending on how much you drank.

Well the bright side was that if Harry ever did unearth her treachery he would be in a good mood.

Hopefully, he never would, being the good, morale and upstanding Gryffindor that she was (well not at the moment) Hermione intended to brew some Felix Felicis herself and replace what she had taken from Harry. One could argue, however, why Miss Granger did not just do that in the first place.

That explanation corresponds to the answers about why Hermione would seek out this potion. She needed luck now and she needed a solution now.

Studying how to make the incredibly difficult potion would take time, and that is one thing Hermione did not have.

Now, to answer the question: What was the problem that Hermione needed a solution for?

Mister Ronald Weasley.

The brightest witch of her age deduced that if she had a day where all her goals would be accomplished she could be able to break up the repulsive couple and rectify whatever she had done to offend Ron.

It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. Especially now with Felix on her side.

Making sure that the potion was safely tucked away, Hermione began to replace Harry's things.

Slowly but surely everything was returned to its original occupancy, looking just as immaculate as before.

A weight that was parallel to a Mountain Troll was finally lifted off her shoulders as she headed towards the door, but before she reached her destination something else caught her eye. In Ron's open trunk she spotted his trousers in pile. The word "payback" popped into Hermione's head as the cunning Gryffindor decided to send the red-head on a little scavenger hunt of his own.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

Five pairs of pants automatically sprung into the air as Hermione guided them to the canopy over Ron's bed.

Fortunately the extra weight atop of the fabric didn't show.

"Have fun with that tomorrow, Ronald," Hermione sneered in a very Slytherin like manner. Spinning on her heel, and sauntered down to breakfast with a smile.

She felt luckier already.

--

Hermione made it down to the Great Hall about five minutes later and right before she stepped through the giant doors she uncorked the tiny glass and took a small draught, deducing that it would only take a little less than an hour to accomplish her goal. There was still more than three-quarters of the potion remaining. As Hermione stowed the bottle in her pocket she walked through the open doors that led to the Great Hall.

Making her way over the Gryffindor table with a bit more bounce in her step, Hermione settled herself next to Harry who was talking with Seamus, Ginny, Dean, Neville and Pavarti.

"Good morning," she greeted cheerfully.

"Hermione," Harry began skeptically, slightly confused by his best friend's good mood. "Where have you been?"

"I just overslept a little, and then decided to get started on my Defense against the Dark Art's assignment," she replied casually, whilst pouring herself a glass of Pumpkin juice. From where she was seated Hermione had a clear view of Ron in the midst of eating Lavender's face.

Her disgust morphed into a smile as she thought of her little Golden coloured friend.

Confidence palpable in her demeanor, Hermione tapped Ron on the shoulder. The youngest Weasley boy looked a bit flabbergasted to suddenly see Hermione sitting next to him, and for her to even acknowledge him at all.

He cleared his throat, "H-hello, Hermione."

"Good morning Ron, I was wondering if you would mind passing me the jam?"

The small dish of the jelly happened to be just out of Hermione's grasp.

"S-sure," the red head replied, while grabbing plate, and handing it to his fellow Gryffindor.

"Thank you, Ron."

"Hermione," the former Prefect said suddenly, "I was wondering if you could give me a hand with my Potions assignment, it's eighteen inches of parchment due on what makes–"

"– Say no more, Ronald," Hermione interjected, holding up her hand to silence him. "I'll help you."

"Hermione, you're an angel." Leaning forward, Ron gave Hermione a light peck on the cheek.

Feeling thoroughly pleased with herself Hermione began spread the raspberry jam over her biscuit, catching the shocked faces of her classmates in the corner of her eye, not expecting such amiable behavior to take place between the two. The Gryffindor did not need to look at Lavender to know that she was shooting daggers at her.

Hermione could definitely get used to drinking Felix Felicis.

--

It was during Potions that everything seemed to go a bit pear shaped. It had been a little over three and a half hours since breakfast, so Hermione was positive that the potion had worn off by now, but currently everything seemed to go from lucky to severely unlucky. For one, the Gryffindor Prefect could not concentrate in the least. She had tried with all her might to focus on Professor Slughorn's words, but she became drowsy within seconds, and her eyes were left to wander. That was her second predicament. Hermione's eyes kept landing on Draco Malfoy.

Trying to avoid all eye contact with the Slytherin, Hermione tried to keep her eyes anywhere but on him. She would close her eyes only to have them pop open right away. She would stare in the other direction, only to have it feel like an unknown force was turning her face back to the Slytherin.

Could this be some strange side effect of the potion? When you steal it from someone and the dose you consumed wears off you are stuck staring at your enemy? It was highly unlikely, but Hermione could not think rationally at the moment. She was too busy mulling over the potential consequences of constantly stealing glances at the boy that tormented her constantly.

In vain, Hermione tried to pass of her glances as glares of animosity, but unfortunately even she could tell her countenance was occupied with a look of fondness. At the moment the Slytherin was writing something, this puzzled her.

Malfoy never took notes during class, what prompted this behavior?

She wasn't even taking notes!

Suddenly, Malfoy took his eyes off the piece of parchment he was scribbling on and stared directly at her. A devious smirk creased his thin lips, as he looked back down at the document, then back at her. Without breaking eye contact, Draco folded the paper and slid it into his robe pocket, and then looked back at Professor Slughorn.

Following suit, the Gryffindor Prefect tried to focus a bit on potions.

Suddenly a brilliant idea struck Hermione.

The potion!

She would just take another sip of Felix Felicis and she would be able to get through her last class of the day. Then she would simply scamper off to the library to do her homework, skip dinner, and she would not see Malfoy for the rest of the day. Hopefully by then he would have no recollection of this entire fiasco. Merlin, she hoped she wouldn't.

Reaching into the pocket in her robe, Hermione groped around for the tiny phial.

The pocket was empty.

The bookworm checked the other pocket with the same negative result, her fingers pushing through a hole in her pocket. Cursing under her breath, Hermione felt herself get very warm.

She had lost the potion!

For the rest of Potions Hermione found it even harder – if that was possible – to concentrate. Thankfully her eyes remained fixated at her hands, and not on the particular white-blond haired pureblood.

The only words that did break through Hermione's trance were, "Class dismissed."

Languidly, the Gryffindor made it to her feet, and collected her books. Just as she took a step away from her chair and towards the door when she felt herself being held back.

"What the–" Looking back at her chair, Hermione saw a piece of the fabric of her robe lodged between the wood of the chair.

Muttering several more curses, the Gryffindor set her pile of textbooks on the desk, and attempted to extricate her robe from the vexing stool. After several tugs, each one more forceful than the previous, the material nearly flung out of the seat. The excess force applied by Hermione made her stumble backwards, and unfortunately, right into her school bag. The sack, jostled from its position on the table, spilled its poorly contained insides onto the stone floor, where the brittle contents shattered instantaneously.

Hermione brandished her wand and attempted to clean the mess her clumsiness produced.

With a half-hearted incantation of "Reparo" the glass beaker mended itself instantly, there was however, nothing that could be done for the liquid that was soaking into the grout.

After cleaning the puddle, the sixth year traipsed over to Professor Slughorn's office.

"Professor," Hermione began. "I seem to have – misplaced my last container of Armadillo's Bile, and I know that that is a key ingredient in the Wit Sharpening Potion that you assigned us to brew for homework, I was wondering–"

"– You needn't ask, Miss Granger. Just go into my supply closet and you will find it on the fifth shelf," the portly Professor explained, as he rose from his large mahogany desk.

"If you could be a dear… and lock up the room when you are finished… I would be most grateful… I have to run into Hogsmeade… for a few things… probably won't be back… until dinner…" Slughorn said over his shoulder as he collected his belongings, leaving the brightest witch of her age alone in his office.

The supply cupboard looked the same as always. Shelves upon shelves encompassed the tiny room, bottles of all types of shapes and sizes coated these counters, and an array of liquids filled these glasses. Stepping tentatively onto the wobbly ladder, Hermione climbed the first three steps until she could stretch her arm up to reach the object of her pursuit.

Just as her fingers grazed the cool glass of the phial a pair of hands gripped the Gryffindor on the hips, yanking her down from her place on the stool, and pulling her to their body.

Hermione felt her mouth open to release her scream of terror, but one of the hands that had pulled her down from her perch, muffled the sound.

Her attacker's pleas for her to be quiet gradually lulled the sixth year. His voice was deep and husky, and it caused her to feel a warm fluttering sensation in her stomach.

But having her back to her assailant did nothing to relax her, but suddenly that position was altered, as Miss Granger felt her body being spun around and thrust against the cupboards. This adjustment did make Hermione face this stranger, but she did not get a chance to catch a glimpse of this person's countenance before he crushed his mouth to hers. His lips were firm, thin and forceful, as they mashed themselves against her unsuspecting and slightly parted lips.

Her body was sandwiched between the rigid wood of the lofty cabinet and the solid body of this mystery man. He certainly took notice of her slightly opened mouth, as he thrust his tongue past her lips only a few seconds after instigating the kiss.

Normally the meek and demure Hermione would have pushed this person off immediately, scandalized by the prospect of snogging someone she didn't even know in the potion's closet. However, something was different about today, and prurient moan was evoked from the brunette as a result of this fellow's actions.

She matched his enthusiasm in response.

His long fingers raked themselves through her pulled back hair, skillfully releasing the bushy tresses from its elastic confinement, which sent the curls cascading past Hermione's shoulders. He pulled her even closer to him, his tongue dueling with her own, making her knees weak as she clutched his shoulders for support.

Having sensed this somehow, he grasped her hips once more, and lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, providing the Prefect with some balance.

Returning the previous gesture, Hermione delved into his own mouth, exploring it meticulously. He tasted exquisitely, like a mixture of Butterbeer, a hint of Firewhiskey and another flavor that she couldn't quite place, but it was familiar nonetheless. Tilting his head to gain more access, he groaned into her mouth and his hands deviating from her hair, lowering to take in the rest of her physique.

His hands drifted from the column of Hermione's neck to feel the smooth arch of her shoulders, wandering downward he caress the curve of her breasts, waist and hips. Meandering from his descending path, his hands withdrew her Oxford shirt from her pleated skirt, and his hands snaked up to feel the smooth skin of her stomach. The coarse texture of his skin on hers sent shivers down her spine. His hands continued upward until his fingertips connected with the bottom of Hermione's bra. Without hesitation he seized the twin mounds and kneaded them relentlessly through the fabric. She didn't know what was wrong with her, why was she enjoying this so much? Why was she letting this happen? Why was so nonchalant to the fact that this person was fondling her body? The only argument that her conscience could come up with was that it felt so right…

He devoured her mouth mercilessly with a ravenous hunger that seemed quenchless. Hermione was feeling light headed – she couldn't breathe! They had been going at it for several minutes and they hadn't parted once. She had tried breathing through her nose, but it was not providing the sufficient amount of oxygen that her lungs required. Reluctantly, the Muggle-born witch broke the kiss, her head turning to the side, gasping frantically. Her partner did not seem to notice it, for his lips wandered down her jaw line and falling to suck greedily on her neck. In the midst of Hermione's frantic inhaling and exhaling she let out a whimper, her body aflame with his stimulating ministrations.

He nipped down on tender flesh of her neck, causing her eyes to pop open in surprise. Immediately her chocolate brown eyes fell on this unknown man, and she caught a glimpse of his white-blond hair…

"Malfoy!" she screeched forthwith after this discovery.

The pureblood Slytherin pulled back to look the Muggle Gryffindor straight in the eyes.

"Surprised, Granger?" Draco inquired smugly, his voice throaty and masculine. His normally colorless lips were slightly swollen and pink and his pale cheek were dusted with a flushed, reddish hue, obviously from the lack of oxygen. "Didn't expect the infamous Draco Malfoy to be snogging you senseless in the Potion's supply closet at three thirty in the afternoon, did you…?"

Shaking her head as in agreement to his assessment, she couldn't find the words to rebut his statement, or in anyway to defend her reaction. It was one thing that he had come on to her, but another matter entirely for her to return his advances so ardently. She was too overcome with embarrassment, consternation and the most abhorrent and prominent of all, arousal, to form a coherent response.

"I bet you thought it was Weasley or possibly Potter, imagine your astonishment…"

Hermione couldn't deny that she had thought at first that Ron was the one that had cornered her in this dark room and kissed her.

He was the only one that she thought really had those kinds of feelings for her. But as their kissing continued, Hermione was positive that this was not Ron, for one key reason: she had seen him kiss Lavender Brown countless times over the past few weeks and his technique was not that refined…

When she had kissed Viktor he had been gentle and cautious, waiting for her to set the pace of their kissing. With Malfoy he was aggressive, almost overly so and selfish, as he was in all aspects of his life, taking what he wanted first and foremost.

At the moment he was still talking. Probably making numerous derogatory remarks about her parentage, her friends, and her appearance, she assumed. But then a thought struck her: he was the one that wanted her. He was the one that initiated the kiss, he was the one that kissing her passionately and enthusiastically, he was the one that fondled her. It was him – all him! But then a disgruntling thought struck her. After concluding all those facts she should have been outraged, scandalized and disgusted… but she was none of the three.

Suddenly, impulse seized her.

"You talk too much…" Hermione muttered and before Draco could react, the Gryffindor grabbed her archenemy by the back of his head and silenced him with her mouth colliding with his.

Her tongue plunged into his mouth immediately eliciting a groan of pleasure from the Slytherin Prince. Her arms encompassed his solid back, the firm muscles that coated it flexing under her touch.

Malfoy's hands lifted her off the wooden ledge and latched her legs around his lean waist. A gasp of carnality emanated from both sides, as Malfoy's need made contact with Hermione's inner thigh. Their furious snogging continued for minutes before Malfoy broke the kiss, resting Hermione back on the shelf, his forehead falling against hers. Both of them were panting due to fervor of their kissing.

"Who knew you were such a wantonness, Granger," Draco purred, his voice low and as soft a whisper. Hermione turned a brilliant scarlet at his blunt words and felt indignation wash over her body like a bucket of ice water.

Sliding down from the counter, avoiding Malfoy's eyes, the Prefect stepped towards the door.

"If my conduct offended you so why did you respond so enthusiastically?" she inquired malignantly, as she struggled to tuck in her uprooted shirt and get to the door at the same time.

His hand grasped hers with his quick Quidditch honed reflexes, effectively holding her in place.

"Oh contraire, Hermione," he drawled, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, noticing her shiver at his use of her given name. "I do not believe I objected in the least…"

Nudging her to face him, he pushed a tiny jar into the cradle of her palm. A piece of parchment was attached, Hermione surmised, due to light poking of one of the folded corners into her flesh.

Smirking down at her for a final time, Malfoy slowly side stepped her and strutted from the room, his arrogant stride appearing even more pompous than usual.

Still in disbelief at all the just occurred, Hermione looked down at the small parcel she clutched in her hand.

Removing the note from the container, Miss Granger unfolded it cautiously.

Granger,

That was a delightful little tryst in the Potions cupboard this afternoon.

Since you responded so fervently, I hope that you will be kind enough

to join me tonight, at eleven o'clock in the Room of Requirements

D.M

Hermione's eyes scanned this note extensively.

How on earth did he…?

He couldn't have just written that…

Did he know before…?

Hermione gazed down at the empty vial attached to this strange note. The phial looked somewhat familiar with its small cork and broken wax seal…

… And the tiny puddle of a golden elixir that resided at the bottom…

--

That night, Hermione Granger stealthily sneaked out of her comfortable Gryffindor dormitory, bound for the Room of Requirements to finish what her and Draco Malfoy had started hours earlier.

This time not a drop of Felix Felicis was necessary…

Fin

--

ENDNOTE:

Yay another piece posted. Just a fun, little Dramione to throw out there. I'll let you guys use your imaginations to decide what happens in the Room of Requirements…

I've been playing around with this idea for a while and I have really wanted to post it.

I'm not sure if you readers will find Draco a bit OOC or not, but if you do please think of this story as an unofficial sequel to DRACO'S OPINION. (If you read that then Draco's actions will seem a bit clearer) and if you have not read that please go to my profile and check it out.

I hope you all enjoyed this, and if you could please click on the pretty purple-ish button in the bottom left hand corner of your screen and review.Thank you again for taking the time to check out my little fic.

xo Ivana

ONE LAST NOTE: I am playing a prequel to Draco's Opinion. It takes place second year and it, of course, a Dramione. It is calledF I R S T K I S S, and it should be posted within the next week or so.

A brief summary: First kisses don't always occur in the most conventional way…

Keep an eye out for it!!