New story! As a note to self, I should probably not write whole stories in the middle of the night. They turn out weird.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Although I wish I did. Particularly Draco's -

August 31st

At the top of the stairs, it was silent.

And yet, Draco stood there, staring blankly at the wall in front of him, clutching at a hot mug of coffee, and wondering why he felt so uneasy in an empty Manor. Really, he didn't even know why he stopped, he hadn't heard a noise or seen any suspicious shadows... His forehead scrunched up as he brought the cup to his lips, sipping quietly and trying to steady his breaths.

"...my imagination," he muttered, just as a hand grabbed at his neck.

The mug clattered to the floor, cracking and spilling the coffee over Draco's bare feet. He screeched, jumping back and nearly falling down the stairs, before a strong hand grasped at his arm and pushed him against the wall roughly. Draco kicked out, but his face was smashed into the stone mercilessly.

Fear blossomed in Draco's chest. He struggled for a moment, and, breaking free with a renewed energy, turned swiftly around and punched the figure square in the nose.

"You fucker!"

Draco stepped in the puddle of hot coffee, peering with wide eyes at the man on the ground. "Blaise?" he snapped, heart still beating rapidly in his chest. "Bloody hell."

Blaise Zabini scrambled to his feet, clutching at his nose and looking livid. However, his scowl lightened considerably as he took a good look at Draco's face. "You're crying," he said, looking highly entertained now, his fury at being hit apparently completely forgotten. "You're actually tearing up!"

"I am - not," Draco hissed, blinking quickly and turning around quickly, heading to his bedroom. "What are you doing in my house?"

"I needed to ask you something." Blaise followed him, stepping over the shards of ceramic. "And this was just too fun. I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"Fun?" Draco repeated, eyeing his room before he remembered he had left his wand downstairs on the kitchen counter. Shit. I could've been dead right now. I should probably keep that with me... "Have fun with someone else!" Without another word, he sped past Blaise. "Ouch!"

"Watch out," Blaise said conversationally from behind Draco, "there's a broken mug on the ground. You know, from when you screamed in terror and dropped it."

Draco ignored him, instead padding down the marble steps and nearly running into the kitchen, grabbing at his wand and holding it out to the doorway. Blaise walked in a second later, looking slightly surprised as he stared at the point of Draco's wand. "Seriously?" he said, holding up his hands. "Draco, my God."

Draco's heartbeat was still racing. "How do I know it's you?" he demanded, hands shaking slightly. He stiffened his resolve and sternly pointed the wand at Blaise's heart. Blaise smirked.

"After you finally asked out Hermione Granger, you ran into the bathroom and threw up."

Draco lowered his hand. "That was completely unnecessary."

"And almost killing me wasn't?" Blaise shot back.

"Calm down, it was a light punch."

"I meant right now!"

"Yeah, well," Draco snapped, sitting down roughly on a stool. He sullenly picked up a muffin that happened to be lying in an untouched pile a foot away. "Want one," he asked flatly, and Blaise smiled genuinely.

"Sure. Apology accepted." He took a seat beside Draco, taking the apology muffin and looking closely at the blond. "Hey..."

Draco shook his head. He didn't want Blaise to apologize himself (though technically Draco hadn't), but the other boy pressed on. "Sorry. That wasn't cool... I mean, so close to everything. And your parents were just sent to Azka-"

"I know," Draco interrupted, "I was there."

Blaise fell silent, picking at his muffin with long fingers. He seemed to struggle with himself for a minute, and Draco cleared his throat. "Is there a reason why you made a house call at three in the morning?"

Brushing off his hands and putting one piece of muffin in his mouth, Blaise sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Draco. I made you cry."

"Aren't we done with that topic?"

Somberly, Blaise grabbed Draco's left hand. Draco pulled away. "Stop being a freak and tell me why you're here."

"Let's do something."

Draco slitted his eyes. "Like what?" Blaise had asked an innocent question, and yet those dark brown eyes were alight with some sort of new passion...

"Let's do something illegal."

"Hell no."

"Since when are you such a stickler for rules? You've attempted murder, I'm pretty sure that's frowned upon."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Do you want a repeat of what just happened upstairs?"

Blaise smirked. "Yes please. I do indeed want to see you scream and cry out for your momma."

"I did not-"

"Kidding, kidding." Blaise pulled out a piece of parchment from his front pocket. "Here. Look at this."

Draco glared at Blaise for one long moment more before leaning forward on his elbows, looking at the paper with one raised eyebrow. Almost immediately, he reared back, grabbing a muffin for himself and cramming it in his mouth. "I'm in."

"I knew it. You can't help but be bad."

Draco's lips twitched as he stood up again. "Stop it."

"I've hit a nerve, I see." Blaise winked as he bounded to the doorway, looking over his shoulder and beginning to prance up the stairs. "Draco likes being a bad, bad boy."

"That's disgusting, and you need to stop."

From halfway up the stairs, Blaise turned fully around, letting his hands fall on either side of him on the railings. He leaned forward suggestively. "Does Granger like it when you're bad?"

"I think I might vomit if you say one more thing. And what are you doing?"

"I'm sleeping over," Blaise shrugged, as if he were saying the time of day. "School starts tomorrow, yes? I have my trunk all packed, it's by the front doors."

Draco paused, one foot raised above the other as he started to climb the stairs. "How come I didn't hear you come in?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow, waving his wand and vanishing the broken mug and tepid coffee. "I don't know. You're a bad Death Eater." There was a long pause, and Draco watched in silence as Blaise peeked at him. He struggled to keep his face neutral, but a flicker of uneasiness must have passed through because Blaise immediately bit his lip.

"I'm going too far."

"You went too far when you broke into my house."

"The door was unlocked."

"No it wasn't."

"Okay, it wasn't. But your window was."

Draco couldn't help but allow the small smile to emerge, and Blaise looked instantly relieved. They stopped outside one of the spare bedrooms, the one Blaise seemed to prefer over all the rest. He slept in there the most, at least, when visiting.

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Get bent," Draco murmured, turning away and smiling again as he heard the light laughter.

As soon as he entered his own bedroom, Draco shut the door and leaned against it, swallowing. His eyes pricked with tears, and he couldn't help but let them fall. They slid down his cheeks, hot and wet, and Draco, for the life of him, had no idea why he was crying.

He was fine. He was. His parents were gone, he had a friend that would always be there for him, and he even had Granger. He smirked weakly for a moment, thinking that he should be forever thankful that Granger had come to a sudden realization that actually, Draco Malfoy wasn't that bad, and yes, he tried to kill their headmaster, but really, he was kind of attractive.

A sob escaped Draco's chest, and he fell forward onto his large bed, the one he'd had since his childhood. The door suddenly banged open, and Blaise walked into the room, jumping on Draco's bed and snuggling up to one of the pillows without a word.

"Sorry," he said delicately, tactfully ignoring Draco's sporadic breaths. "That room was too hot."

"It's August," Draco half-mumbled through the comforter. He didn't dare raise his head, fearing that if he did, a wet mark would cover half the blanket.

"Fine. It was too cold."

"It's August."

"What do you want me to say, then?" Blaise demanded, and the bed moved a touch as he shifted into a more comfortable spot.

Draco let out a chuckle that was muffled by the bed. "Something honest."

"I doubt you want to hear that."

"I do." He waited, listening to Blaise's easygoing inhales and exhales. Eventually-

"I heard you crying."

Draco shrugged, finally lifting up his face and blinking groggily at the blurred figure laying next to him. "No crack about it now?"

"Nope."

Draco wiggled up in the bed, before letting his head fall back down. "Turn off the lights," he mumbled sleepily. Blaise snorted.

"Really? We're going to sleep together?"

"Well, even if you were in a different room it'd still be together, because we'd be together in the house, together in the town, even, or together in general as being spiritually-"

The light clicked off.

Draco yawned. It was quiet, and though it should have felt awkward and embarrassing, Draco felt nothing but a serenity. He soundlessly thanked Blaise for the unspoken thought that was hanging over both of their heads - why Blaise coincidentally swung by the day before classes started, before 'eighth' year started, in the middle of the night.

Draco just didn't want to be alone.

Seven months later

"McGonagall knows," Draco hissed, slipping a finger under his sweaty, unbuttoned collar. "She knows, she looked at me oddly!"

"Maybe because you look like you sprinted around the grounds for three hours," Blaise muttered, casually pulling out parchment and ink. "Why are you so sweaty?"

"I'm going to throw up," Draco mumbled, clenching his fists as his stomach rolled violently. Blaise frowned.

"I really don't understand why you throw up every time you get nervous," he breathed quietly, watching peripherally as McGonagall glided by their desks.

"I don't know, either."

"Technically, it's not illegal."

"Yes it is, what are you talking about?"

Blaise's mouth twisted unpleasantly as he tried to looked interested in the front of the room. "Parts are illegal, but technically, the entire thing together isn't."

"Technically," Draco gritted his teeth, "it doesn't matter." McGonagall looked right at him, and he flattened his grimace into a blank expression. She turned back to the board.

"Bring peppermint essence," Blaise said under his breath, as Draco shakily drew in one of his own.

"What?"

"Peppermint essence," Blaise repeated, eyebrows up, dark eyes wide. Draco stared him down, breaking down first. He caught a pair of curious honeyed eyes from a few seats away; he glanced down.

"Fine."

Draco swallowed as those same brown eyes gazed speculatively at him. His hands wound around a small waist, and he cocked his head to the left, biting his lip.

"What are you doing tonight?" Hermione Granger asked, with an incredible balance of accusation and nonchalance.

Draco shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. "Stuff with Blaise," he muttered. "I have to go." He released her, backing away and running a hand through his hair. "I'll... I'll see you later, okay?"

His stomach spun as her eyes grew sad with distrust. "Okay," she whispered, quietly. He could see that she was fighting tears, and he could not figure out why. He ached to stay, but a tiny voice in his head that sounded uncannily like Blaise whispered, Peppermint essence. He turned to go, feeling like an ass, before something clunked into place and his face whitened.

"I promise," he said, wheeling around and wrapping his arms around her tightly, "that I'm not planning anything. Anything dangerous," he added, because actually, that first one had been a lie. Thin arms tightened around his own waist.

"Promise?"

It was that one word, filled with vulnerability and dolefulness, that left Draco reeling. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the soft smell of vanilla.

"I promise," he whispered, clenching his eyes tight together. "I promise," he repeated, more to convince himself than anything.

He turned once again to go; a hand caught his wrist. "Stay for a while," she whispered in his ear.

Draco's breath caught as her hand slipped down his chest to rest at his belt buckle. A ghost of a smirk rested on his lips. "Someone's feeling... restless," he breathed, and he could practically feel the heat from her cheeks.

"Oh, shut it," she grumbled, and Draco chuckled, forgetting Blaise completely as he gently pushed her back, into the wall. Her body was tiny against his, and he pulled back just enough to snicker at her. "Stop laughing at me," she pouted. "You always do that when - whenever-"

"I don't," he smiled, leering at her. She glared fiercely at him.

"Yes you do!"

He shook his head. "Sorry, I won't anymore." His lips traveled down to rest at her pulse, and Hermione's breath quickened.

"Good." Her voice was impressively stable. I'll just have to change that, Draco thought smugly. His finger snuck into the loop of her jeans, tugging it down an inch. With his other hand, he pressed against the top clasp. It popped open.

She kissed him, left hand coiling around his neck securely as her right quickly undid his belt. She grasped the front of his shirt, stumbling backward until she fell against her bed, Draco's arms catching himself so he wouldn't fall on her.

"Lock..." he exhaled, between kisses, "the... door."

Hermione waved her wand, then threw it across the room. Draco's fingers pinned back her wrists; he attacked her neck until dark marks blossomed across her pale neck.

"Mm," she murmured, "Let my hands go."

"No."

"I need to take off your pants, though," she replied, a teasing note in her tone. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I can do that with one hand."

"Yeah, but this time I'm going to do it." And she ripped her hands away, bringing them down to his hips. Her fingers reached below the waistband, and Draco's breath dipped. He could feel her lips curve up against his neck.

"Now who's making fun of who," he grouched, not really caring, but he needed something to say. Because otherwise, a rather embarrassing moan would escape him, and that would just be too much. Then she'd really make fun of him, and then he'd really care.

"You don't like making noise," Hermione commented, yanking down Draco's pants as Draco swiftly pulled off his shirt. "I've noticed."

He flushed as he tugged at hers. "What?"

She shrugged. "You don't like being loud."

"Because," he snapped, "it's embarrassing."

"Come on," she said delightedly, "scream for me."

"Oh, shut up."

"I won't stop until you do."

"Really, Granger, that's not exactly a punishment."

Hermione stopped her fingers immediately, loosening her grip. He almost moaned at the loss of contact. She smirked broadly. "Just once."

"I don't even know why you're asking, you know I won't," he hissed.

"Nobody will hear you, if that's what you're worried about."

"You're making me lose my horniness, one word at a time."

She bit on his neck, resuming her tight hold. "We can't have that."

"No," Draco mumbled, "we can't. So shut up and let's fuck."

He could feel her shake her head underneath him as he kissed her forehead. "You're so crude. But that's why I..."

He froze.

She did too.

"... I do it," she finished. "It turns me on." His eyes found hers, her lips parted slightly. He licked his own, lowering his head to press his lips against her cheek, softly. He nudged her legs apart, feeling her tender heat, and slipped in.

"Come on," he said softly, chuckling. "Make me scream."

"This, er, can't be dangerous in any way, right?" Draco murmured, watching as Blaise smiled benignly at their project.

"Dangerous?" Blaise frowned. "Actually, um... yes."

Draco rubbed his eyes with his left hand.

"Do you believe in luck?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, turning the ladle around the pot quick. One stir counterclockwise, two stirs clockwise, one second pause, four stirs counterclockwise, one stir clockwise... "Blaise, what do you think we're making?"

"It's fabricated," Blaise argued, measuring out a healthy dose of peppermint essence. He studied the tiny bottle. "I mean, we're making fake luck. It's not real. It's a goddamn potion."

Carefully, Draco set down the ladle and blasted the flames to high, squinting at the line of directions. "Well, I don't believe in luck. Real luck, I mean, not fabricated," he rolled his eyes, voice rich in cynicism. "Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not," Blaise grumbled back in reply, now corking the bottle. "Where's the holly berry?"

"This potion is filled with such pleasant things," noted Draco, smirking a little as he pulled his finger down the line of instructions. "Holly berries, peppermint essence, pear oil, happiness..."

There was a slightly strained pause. Draco gaped at the sixty-fifth line of instructions and Blaise sat stock-still.

"Did you say happiness?" Blaise snapped icily. Draco shoved the parchment under Blaise's nose.

"Look. 'Stir the potion for two minutes and thirty seconds with joy'." He snorted. "That's fucking ridiculous."

"You're making that up! Give me that." Reaching out, Blaise grasped at the paper and glowered down. "You need to be happy making this? Well, that explains why Snape never bothered to create it."

"I'm never happy," Draco complained. "You're going to have to do it."

"Er, no. You're happier than me."

"No. Your mother just remarried! You get to plan another wedding."

"Is that supposed to make me happy? Your parents just went to jail!"

"Is that?"

Breathing heavily, Draco picked the ladle back up and continued the strenuous stirring. "We'll just use a cheering charm."

"When do we do it?"

"Now," Draco pointed his wand directly at Blaise's forehead. "Gaudium."

"... so I couldn't possibly have those ghastly rafflesias decorating the post-party, now could I? Mother hates the camellia, though, I can't possibly understand why, but I must convince her to reconsider... Ginny thinks the rose is the best. Common, subtle, but fragrant and altogether just gorgeous. I do agree, the light pink mixed with the white and red would certainly set off her wedding dress nicely, what with the–"

"Blaise?" Draco cut in, glancing at his watch. "It's been half an hour since you started gushing about your mother's wedding. Stop being a prissy bitch and help me, okay?" He wondered idly if the fact that the joy they'd created was fake would affect the potion, though Draco supposed, the luck was fake too so maybe it didn't matter. He gnawed at his lip in worry.

Blaise shot him a dirty look. "Give me your tailor's name, please? I need my dress robes altered, and I think I might add on another set of buttons down the front. Purely decorative, of course."

"I think Lucius killed him," Draco said, after a moment of thoughtful consideration. "Yes, I'm positive of it."

"And you haven't gotten a new one yet?"

Absurd, Draco thought. Absolutely absurd, that he was calmly talking about his murdered tailor while stirring Felix Felicis. Soon he was going to be handing out advice for Blaise's color schemes of fucking roses.

"No," he replied, against his better judgement. "I had to make do."

Blaise clucked sympathetically. Suddenly, in one quick moment, his head dropped back and hit the side of the sink. Draco sat still for a moment, before prodding the darker boy's arm with his own elbow.

"Did you just die?"

"No," muttered Blaise, leaning his forehead against the marble wall. "I think your charm wore off."

"Granger taught me how to excel at fabulously strong Cheering Charms," admitted Draco grudgingly. Blaise shot him a knowing glance as he started plucking off the petals of a violet, tossing them in one by one a moment later.

"And how is that going?" Blaise made a big show of reading over the ingredients. Draco mulled this in a stony silence.

"Superb. She stopped flinching at my Dark Mark and I stopped gagging every time she rubbed the scar on her neck."

"Improvement."

"Isn't it?"

"We have to let this sit for ten hours," Blaise said. "Overnight?"

"Seems like it. And it'll be done tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. Bright and early, Mister Malfoy, bright and early."

Draco smiled slightly to himself, extremely pleased at the finished progress of seven months.

"Can't wait."

Draco emitted a low gasp, iciness washing over his body like a stream of water. Similarly, Blaise was shuddering, teeth gritted in pain and goosebumps rising up on his arms.

"Damn," Blaise forced out, teeth chattering. "Too much peppermint essence, eh?"

"Unfortunately," Draco murmured. The coldness was fading away slowly, and he was left with the unfamiliar rush of... giddiness.

He was happy. And it was bizarre.

Straightening up, Draco bounced over to a cracked mirror, staring at the dingy bathroom around him. He attempted to force himself to frown. "I'm smiling too much."

"I didn't know your teeth were that white. They're blinding me!"

Finding this hilariously funny, Draco doubled over, clutching at his stomach as Blaise sunk to the floor next to him, shoulders shaking in a silent laughter. "Oh," Blaise moaned, "too much peppermint essence."

"You weren't paying attention when you added it!" Draco accused, feeling lightheaded. "The directions warned us that too much would leave us... wild."

"Wild?" Blaise shot up. "Let's do something," he whined.

Draco stood up, heaving a heavy breath and for one glorious moment, straightening his mouth to something that vaguely resembled a beam, but not quite. "That sentence landed us here in the first place."

"Oh, come on," Blaise sniffed, standing up. "We're lucky for a complete twenty-four hours, what are you going to do about it?"

Draco spun around, letting the grin just sweep right over his fake frown. "Anything and everything."

Draco had a mindset to avoid Hermione for the majority of the day.

Fortunately, thanks to a certain Felix Felicis, Potter gruffly informed Draco that Hermione was studying all day for one of her upcoming tests.

So. What to do?

Blaise had long since disappeared, probably to go try and sneak the exam answers from McGonagall's desk. And with some surprise, Draco realized he'd accomplish it.

Draco snagged the arm of Nott as the skinny boy walked by on his way to the Great Hall. "Nott," he said, flashing his teeth brightly and instantly toning it down as the boy flinched, "what would you do if you couldn't fail?"

Nott smirked. "Have sex with every single girl at in our class."

Draco frowned. "What if you had a girlfriend?"

"Bang her all day everyday, what guy accomplishes that?"

I do, Draco smirked to himself. "Anything else?"

Nott shrugged. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just wonderi-" he stopped short, suddenly realizing what he had to do. "Bye," he said flatly.

"See ya." Nott didn't even seem perturbed, Draco thought. That was luck- oh. But Draco didn't even have the strength to laugh as he sulkily headed up to his dormitory.

Sitting on his bed, feet planted on the floor, Draco tried to remember the exact time that they took the potion.

7:12, he thought immediately. Huh? Oh, lucky I remembered-

Draco fell back against his bed, bringing a pillow to his face and contemplating whether or not he should start screaming himself raw. Being lucky was fun. And seriously, utterly and completely annoying.

Goyle popped his head in the room, grunting to announce his presence. Draco sat up, the pillow clenched to his chest. "What?" he asked.

"Granger's at the portrait hole," Goyle said. Draco felt his heart seize up, before thinking, Why am I worrying?

"Tell her I'm busy," he murmured. "No - tell her I'm studying."

Normally she wouldn't believe it... but, well, Felix Felicis wouldn't let him down.

Goyle didn't come back in, so Draco assumed she had left.

"This is too weird," Draco moaned. "I don't like it." He squished the pillow between his hands, furrowing his brow. He still had a long time, and yet there was nothing he really wanted to do now.

Gazing out of the window, Draco saw the pointy hats of McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. He considered throwing something at them, knowing he wouldn't get caught, and found that he didn't even feel like it.

The door slammed open, and Draco jumped slightly. Blaise stood in the midst, frowning. "I think we made it wrong," he stated. Draco nodded and Blaise crossed the room, sitting next to Draco.

"I feel depressed," Draco muttered, and Blaise thoughtfully nodded.

"It definitely works," he said, bringing his knees up and resting his chin on them, "but the problem is I don't even feel like moving."

"I know what you mean," Draco sighed. "I mean, I have a couple of things to do before it wears off... but right now I just want to sit here."

They glanced at each other with some hesitance.

"Was it the pear oil?" Blaise asked as soon as Draco snarled, "Those damn holly berries!"

The sat in silence.

"What did you do already?" Draco asked.

Blaise shrugged. "I changed a couple exam grades."

Draco smiled slightly. "I made Granger go away."

Blaise barked out a laugh. "We spent seven months working on this thing, and we're sitting in your bed hugging pillows."

"I really think we made it wrong."

Blaise quirked a smile. "Wanna take a nap?"

"I'm dead tired."

And Draco flopped backward, still holding the pillow and moving around to stretch out his legs. "This is considerably more awkward in a twin bed."

"Yeah, but," Blaise yawned, "we're lucky, so neither of us will fall off-"

"-nobody will come barging in and take pictures-"

"-neither of us will get an unexpected boner-"

"-speak for yourself, maybe I want to get lucky."

"Ha, funny. Granger doesn't put out?"

"Shut up."

They were almost asleep when Draco piped up again, "You know she does," earning himself a sharp smack against the head.

"Go to sleep."

Draco woke up quickly, sitting up and nearly falling off the edge. What time is it? his mind screamed, and he glanced at his watch. They had been asleep for the rest of the day, and through the night, and currently it was five in the morning.

Blaise mumbled something and Draco hit his stomach. "Wake up." Dark eyes popped open, and Blaise sat up as well, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm hungry."

"It's five in the morning."

"So?"

Draco contemplated this. "I guess that doesn't matter."

They trooped to the kitchens, where they sat on the stone floors and stuffed cakes and ice cream into their mouths as the house-elves watched with delight from the other side of the room. Blaise belched, stealing an eclair off of the tray in front of Draco.

"So... we have an hour left of the luckiest day of our lives. We spent it sleeping."

Draco swallowed, snorting. "It was the fake happiness, I don't think it worked as well as we hoped. I think it had the opposite effect since we tried to cheat."

Blaise smiled peacefully. "What's your last run going to be?"

Draco didn't even have to think as he snagged the last mint chocolate chip cookie. "I'm going to Azkaban."

"Wow, that is lucky, I'm jealous, I've always wanted to go there."

"You're an ass," Draco laughed, "I meant I'm going to sneak off grounds and go there undetected. I'm seeing my parents."

"You're planning on talking to them lucky?"

"I'll have to... otherwise I probably won't be able to get back in. And... I need to do something else."

"True." Blaise frowned. "You know what? I think you'll be lucky if they're honest with you."

Draco, half-way standing up, froze. His eyes softened as he gazed down at his best friend, the one who was always there for him, and was always honest. Lucky or not.

"I guess so."

Draco kneeled on the concrete in front of their cell, peering into the dimness. "They allow you to have the same cell?" he asked, and his voice came out steady, no wobbles.

Lucius didn't even look at him. "They allowed it, for some reason."

Narcissa grasped at the bars. "How's Hermione?"

Draco almost fell backward. "I beg your pardon?" he spluttered, and Narcissa smiled sadly.

"She's a good girl for you, Draco. She'll put you on the right path, God knows we completely failed you."

"Stop," Draco said uncomfortably. "Dad?" he asked quietly, and Lucius whipped his head around. Draco knew he had never before called his father that, and Lucius seemed to be struggling with the concept of it.

"Miss Granger..." he seemed to lose track of what he was saying for a moment. "Will treat you better than we ever had," Lucius finally whispered. Draco stared down at the ground.

"You're telling me what I want to hear," he mumbled, realizing it. Lucius scoffed.

"Since when have we ever done that?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco smiled. "Never."

"Draco," Narcissa said flatly, "why are you here?" She blinked. "I mean, you hate us."

"I don't."

Two pairs of light eyes looked at Draco through the heavy bars; eventually he felt uncomfortable. "I have to go," he murmured.

"Will you come back?" Narcissa asked. She seemed weak, too weak to reach out and hold onto his hand. Draco stepped back.

"...No."

They both nodded. Draco felt a pressure behind his eyes, a burning in his throat. Turning, he fled down the hallway, to the door where a solid rectangle of light shone through.

It was echoey, though, and faintly, Draco could hear Lucius say one more thing.

"That's my son."

"I'm... sorry. I just don't feel the same way."

Hermione stared up at indecipherable silver eyes. Resisting the urge to smile, she sighed and took his hand, gently. Friend-like.

"I've been wondering about this for a long time now, actually. That we've been getting too serious. I'm... I just don't think we should take this next step."

Revenge is lovely, Hermione sighed to herself. That's for making me sick with worry about your 'plans', Draco Malfoy.

But maybe she'd taken it too far. His once light silver eyes were slowly darkening to a slate gray, and Hermione was almost alarmed at the change. She bit her lip uncertainly, wondering for a moment if he'd hit her. Almost immediately, she chastised herself for thinking such thoughts. Still, he was pale and stock-still, eyes like steel. Cold and hard. His jaw was tight, and the expression on his face was one that he almost would have used back in the past, in their years of hatred.

I'm sorry! Hermione thought desperately, eyes wide and frightened. It was a joke! A stupid joke that I don't know why I did! I'm sorry!

His expression broke.

A burning, furious flush rose up to settle on his alabaster cheeks, and his eyes started to appear glossy. Draco Malfoy was embarrassed. And Hermione felt guilty, now.

"You're stupid," she murmured, bringing her lips to touch his once, gently. "I recognize Felix Felicis, you know. I've taken it before.

"And," she continued, before his mouth could fully open to retort back, "we've been together for so long now, and yet you'll believe me when I say I don't like you." Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco stared at her.

"I didn't say I like you," he sneered suddenly. Hermione raised an eyebrow, before promptly bursting into laughter.

"Okay," she smiled. "I love you too. I love you so much, Draco Malfoy." She tilted her head. "Better?"

"Much," he admitted grudgingly. "And I didn't take a lucky potion to tell you that I love you, by the way. I had other uses as well."

"Oh?" Hermione laughed. "And what would those be?"

Draco reached up a hand and tilted her head to the right. "See that there? My work."

Hermione blinked, watching as Professor McGonagall, fifty feet away, adjusted a large portrait of... Draco Malfoy. Portrait-Draco caught her eye and blew a kiss. Hermione felt her mouth fall open.

"I use a lucky potion to save my life, and you use it to decorate Hogwarts with pictures of you," she said accusingly. Draco smiled. "Typical."

"Very," he agreed. "Oh! My Felix Felicis seems to have faded away."

"Just now?"

"Oh, no," he grinned at her, firelight reflecting off his teeth. "About thirty minutes ago, Miss Granger. I wasn't about to let some potion tell me how you feel." He smirked arrogantly. "When you say you love me, I want it to be all you, so I know how important I am."

Hermione felt the beginnings of a smile tug up the corners of her mouth. "You're such a prat."

"And despite that, you love me."

"I always have, since day one. And, just as long as you don't take your lucky potion to get lucky," Hermione teased. Draco kissed her.

"I don't need Felix's help for that, now do I?"

"I suppose," Hermione said, winding her arms around his neck, "no, you really don't."

DONE, and I shall go to bed now.

Oh, Draco and Hermione and Blaise. My three favorite characters. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it.
To be honest here, I had a bunch of random storylines and rolled them into one story, I hope it worked out okay! Ha.

Cheers,
Glalue773