A/N: Mentions of drug abuse. Chapter edited 11/23/18.

He looked out the window again, unable to meet her eyes. Merlin forbid she see how angry he was.

Not that she didn't deserve it.

Glancing back around the room, he noted Potter still hadn't come back. He was likely out with Weasely again, trying to calm her parents that were anything but reasonable. At least they hadn't gotten into the infirmary; he could only imagine how much worse things would be then.

His eyes turned to Theo, still unconscious on the bed beside him. The strike to his head wouldn't kill the dolt, but he might wish it had when Draco got around to wringing his neck. How could he be so bloody stupid?

"Quit glaring at him," Hermione muttered, her voice just as grating as it was all the way back to the castle. "I'm the one that dragged him out there and you know it."

"And he had one bleeding job," he snapped in return, turning his eyes to her. "And somehow you still ended up getting hurt."

She scoffed, pushing down the bed covers again. She'd tried twice so far to escape the infirmary and thus far hadn't been successful. He kept dragging the blankets back to her chin, demanding she stay still a while longer. If he kept doing that he at least didn't have to argue with her.

"I'm not dying Draco," she reminded, brushing her hair away from her face again. "I'm not even really hurt. Madame Pompfrey made sure to take care of any pain. Really I'm fine."

He scowled, glancing down again at the blouse he repaired earlier. She blushed under his scrutiny, but didn't look away. Damn it, there were some things he just didn't think he could discuss with her without breaking something else in the room.

He'd already shattered a lamp, and Pompfrey would throw him out if he ruined anything else.

"Ron didn't hurt me," she continued, rolling her shoulders as though she could roll the tenseness in the room off too. "Not really anyway. No more than he already has."

He frowned and sat on the edge of her bed, the release papers still off near the nurse station. He doubted they would release her until things with the Weasley's cleared. She already ran off and did something stupid once today, no way would the staff and Ministry risk her taking off again.

Just another problem to add to the list.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asked, dragging his eyes to hers. "Running off, seriously? That's what he wanted you to do."

"You aren't wrong," she muttered, "but I did find out more about the drugs than we knew before. It's a huge profit right now and Death Eaters are spearheading it. I didn't know it was so involved."

He scowled, pressing the pads of his hands into his legs. "That's not the point. He was on you. If Theo wasn't around he could've dragged you off with that other attacker. They wouldn't have had a distraction at all. You wouldn't even be here to argue with right now if things happened even slightly differently."

"He won't kill me Draco," Hermione sighed, dropping her head. "I'm not useful to him dead. He wants me alive. The worst he can do is kidnap me."

"He can do a lot worse than that and you know it," he seethed, leaning closer to her. "And he will. The best thing that could've happened did; he bolted and now we don't know where he is. You can't just run off senselessly anymore."

"It's not senseless," she retorted, drawing up her knees. She nodded her head towards Theo, still asleep in the other bed. "You were concerned when you saw Theo down there. You practically lost your mind. Ron might do some bad things, but I still care about him. I don't want to see him spiral out of control."

"He's already out of control! You're in the infirmary because of him, and you would've been countless times before if you weren't so bloody stubborn." He looked away, forcing himself to remain calm. She was already defiant and on some hysteric binge to make sure Weasley didn't become a lost cause. Trying to drill his points into her head by force definitely wouldn't get the point across.

"There's still good in him," she remarked, holding up a hand when he tried to interrupt. "He's certainly not all good, and there are parts of him that I no longer recognize. But he's not the worst person in the world either Draco. Half his motives are compelled by his addiction, and the other half-"

She cut herself short, angrily looking at the wall across from him. He frowned, noting the wet gleam of her eyes as she glared hard at some invisible hole, and felt his muscles tighten. She couldn't say what she was thinking, not without crying.

Damn it, everything this bleeding idiot did turned around to hurt her tenfold. Didn't he even realize what his actions caused?

Stuffing down his anger a moment, he reached out to affectionately pat her knee. "Brown's got her talons in him Hermione, that's for sure. Don't feel bad about it. If he can act this way to someone who he's supposed to love, then you shouldn't want anything to do with him."

She scoffed, but he thought he could see the ghost of a smile on her features. It was short lived though, and she flattened her expression again, using her fingers to brush angrily at her cheeks. He watched her a moment, the room highlighting the angle of her cheeks, the faint bruise and the gleaming wet lines. She twisted in the light, and he scowled again.

His hand snapped out, fingers splaying across her cheek gently. There wasn't much there anymore, save for the remaining outline of Weasley's hand-print against her skin. It would disappear soon, the pain medicine Pompfrey gave her more than enough to fight off the bashing she took.

"Stop studying it," she muttered, dragging his fingers off of her face. He expected her to let go, but instead she cradled his hand in her lap with both of her own, eyes angled down as she rubbed his knuckles. He couldn't quite focus on what she was doing, never mind that it felt wonderful to have her fingers brushing across his skin. He kept seeing the imprint on her face, the red skin of her neck from Weasley pressing his fat bulk into her, and the torn shirt he'd repaired, buttons torn down to the bottom and her bra disheveled beneath. Recalling the faint red outlines he'd seen just before he managed to rip his gaze away he had to force himself to control his breathing. He couldn't quite think about that last bit too long, or he would keep seeing red.

Flipping his hand over he let her play with his palm, trying to wash the anger away with her touch. It shouldn't really comfort him as they never had any physical moments between them. Only one occurrence sprang up that didn't involve Weasley, and that was just last night when she stole into his room for a drink and they nearly ended up kissing.

At least then she was safe, and there was the far fetched possibility Weasley would just disappear into the damn night. But he knew better, and if the buffoon didn't fry every last working brain cell he had he'd go searching again to find his ex. His connection to her went deeper than just their relationship, and he wouldn't let go so easily.

"There's no reason to still be mad about it," she continued, taking his silence as something else. "The bruise will be gone in a few minutes with Pompfrey's healing, and I won't feel it anymore. She even gave me something to take the edge off the pain."

He scowled, not wanting to ask what hurt her more, her bruised face or her bruised ego. "Still, he's not going to stop."

"I realize he won't pity me anymore," she agreed, twirling her hands around. "There's a breaking point in Ron, in everyone, and he reached his." Her fingers moved up, softly creasing her shirt. "I can't fix him with placebos this time."

"It wasn't fixing him before."

"But I was getting closer to a solution," she sighed, glancing away from him. Her eyes fell on Theo, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, Draco's eyes watching her. He could see the gears in her head turning, something brewing beneath her gaze that she had yet to say. He was starting to worry about what it was. "It could've worked on anyone obsessed… Ron, Theo, you-"

He jerked back, throwing them into silence. Her head turned back towards his, deep brown eyes glowing in the light of the room. He couldn't believe she'd uttered something like that so carelessly into the silence. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you used to take Willow's Weep," she stressed, crossing her arms. "You, Blaise, probably others too. I don't know why, or why you could break away when Theo can't, but he said something while we were walking and it got me thinking."

Draco swore, glancing sideways at his friend. If the bloke woke up anytime soon he may be tempted to knock him flat again. What possessed him to say such things? "It's not what you think."

"I think you've been lecturing me about what a terrible person Ron is to succumbing to his addiction when you were exactly the same way," she snapped, sitting straighter in the bed. "You may not be attached to Willow's Weep anymore but I bet at one point you were just as hinged to the drug as he is now. So when was it? After the war, dealing with everything that happened or was it even earlier, like during sixth year when you literally ran from everything?" Her gaze was hard, angry, the kind of look you send someone you're furious with. "And you never thought to mention it?"

He stood from the bed, ignoring the way it tilted slightly when he forced his way off. There she went again, playing with his head and his thoughts when she had no right to be. "He had no right to tell you that."

"He didn't have to," she reasoned, throwing off the top cover. "His simple slip of tongue was enough."

"It's still not his secret," Draco snapped, running a hand through his fringe. Blast it, didn't the bloke realize this just complicated things? Defeated he sighed, taking a seat at the edge of the bed across from her, staring down at his toes.

"Well?"

"It was a long time ago," he replied, shaking his head. "And a very few times at that. I never much liked the drug. The hold it has on you is more than I can bear. I only took it while I was a Death Eater-"

"You mean this past summer?" she stressed, crossing her arms. He ignored her gaze, forcing himself to not get angry. She had a right to know at this point.

"Yes Hermione, this past fucking summer," he spat, angling his eyes towards the ceiling. "It was something a lot of the Death Eaters did. New initiates, such as myself and Theo, were pressured to take it, almost like a rite of passage into the group. I took it twice, and several other times I used a simple spell to remove the liquid and deposit it into a nearby plant or sink. Rarely did I ever want it."

Her glare continued to cut into his forehead, and he willed himself to meet her eyes again. She looked troubled now, fighting between her desire to remain mad at him for being a hypocrite and pity for his unwelcome introduction to the drug. "And… Blaise?"

"Blaise is a lot like me, he only took it when he couldn't avoid it. Theo fell into the drug though. His father's a heavy user, and when he couldn't cope with all the death around us he simply took another hit. It kept him sane." Draco looked away again, clenching his hands together at his knees. "After the war, just this last summer, we tried weening him off. It's nothing like you did; we didn't bother with placebos. He'd never said anything about the people using the drugs, but we always thought ex Death Eaters were involved, maybe even escapees who haven't yet been captured. It's hard to guess what Theo knows. After his father died he slipped somewhere we couldn't reach him."

"Ron took it because of his brother," she whispered.

"Theo's dad died in the war too. Voldemort wasn't happy with the lot of us one day and made an example out of him. He's never been quite the same."

Hermione cringed, an expression he couldn't miss even if he tried. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"There are too many testimonies to remember the details of every one," he said sadly, hopping off the bed. "Theo watched his father as he was tortured to death. We didn't push him to drop the Willow's Weep after that. We spent most of our summer at Blaise's beach house in Italy coming to terms with everything. Even out there he could get his hands on it. It's not a matter of how much distance you put between the person and their drugs, it's all decided on how much someone really wants to quit."

She grew silent then, and he glanced sideways to find her hopping from the bed to approach him. "I guess that was the problem with Ron."

"Get back into bed," he muttered. "You're not cleared yet and Pompfrey will have an absolute fit if she sees you up."

Ignoring him, she stopped just in front of his frame, her fingers dragging up to trace the hollow of his throat. "Ron really never wanted to quit. He wanted something to come to terms with Fred. Funny thing is, he's the only one that took it so hard. I know Molly and Arthur will never be the same, and George is a shadow of himself at best, but Ron is so far gone now… I wish I'd been able to stop it."

She wasn't paying a lot of attention now, her fingers traveling on their own from his neck to the jugular and up to the base of his head, sprawling her hand there. Her eyes focused on his collarbone instead of his face, but in the light of the room he could see the moisture gathering in her eyes. "Funny thing is, after all this time, I thought I'd be enough."

"You are enough."

Hermione laughed, but it was pained and choked by a sob. "Not for him. Not for anyone these days Draco. The drugs do better than I with comforting, and there isn't much else I can do for my friends."

He caught her chin, twining his other hand around her back. She was wavering and needed to sit down. Maybe the potions were working and they'd finally put her out a while. Merlin knew she needed the rest. "You don't need to be enough for him love. You're enough for me."

She gasped, a little breath that he nearly missed. The tears didn't come now, caught somewhere between the spilling out and crawling back into her eyes. He was contemplating whether or not to reach up and dab them away when she surprised him, leaning forward to gently press her lips into his.

His fingers tightened on her chin, his breath sucking in faster as his hand pressed into her lower back, both surprised and elated that she wanted to kiss him. He found himself kissing back, deepening the moment between them, his fingers traveling from her chin to the base of her neck to mimic her actions, so very pleased with the situation that he couldn't imaging ruining it.

Someone cleared their throat, and Hermione nearly fell over in an effort to scramble away from him.

Draco swore quietly, clenching his hands tight as he turned to see who dared to interrupt them. Damn it, he finally got a kiss from the girl and someone just had to intervene. Someone was crossing the length of the hospital wing now, red hair flying out behind her. She was most of the way across the room before Draco picked up on who it was.

Molly Weasley.

"Molly!" He heard Potter off in the direction of the door, but couldn't really focus on what Scarhead was saying as she stormed up to Hermione, his feet unknowingly carrying him to stand by her side. There was a fire in the older woman's eyes that caused his stomach to knot, and he didn't feel particularly good now that their kiss was interrupted. It just put him in a rather foul mood.

Hermione for her part seemed to know what was coming, and at the last moment ducked and stumbled into him as the woman moved to slap her, her hand sailing harmlessly past her face. Draco reacted instantly, reaching around her back to drag the brunette close, putting himself between her and Mother Weasel.

"How dare you!" Molly seethed, working to fight her way around Draco. It was rather hard to fend off the witch while also attempting to not trip on the end of the bed, what with her attempting to slap some sense into him too. "My Ron's gone less than a day and you're in here kissing him."

Draco scowled, used to people referring to him in such a displeased manner but completely unprepared for the pure hatred this red-haired bat seemed to exude. From behind her Potter finally appeared, successfully snatching the woman's wand away from her before she could even draw it. A much heavier ginger appeared behind him, and Draco could only assume this was Arthur, stopping alongside his daughter as the both watched Molly work.

"It's not as if he really tried to stick around," Draco replied, filling the silence when Hermione seemed unable to. "He hopped right on the drug express."

"Malfoy!" Potter snapped, managing to drag Molly back to sit on the other bed, Arthur immediately swooping in to take his wife's hand and rein her in. There were dirty tear tracks on her face, as though she'd been crying for quite a while. Draco couldn't help but crinkle his nose, wondering why every bleeding person wanted to cry for Weasley so much.

"Well it's true," he relented, watching at Hermione slipped out from behind him, shoving his arm away. The one time he can actually try to protect her and she shoves him off.

"It's really not what it looks like Molly," she began, holding up her hands but staying back. Behind the trio Weaselette nodded, as though encouraging her to continue. "This just… happened, just now in fact. Ron's running away had nothing to do with Draco."

"But I see it took no time for you to cast him aside!" the woman shrieked, jerking in the bed. She was obviously distressed, her meeting with the Headmistress scheduled only an hour prior. Learning so much at once obviously took its toll, but Draco couldn't help feeling short with her. Didn't she realize Hermione suffered at the hands of her addicted son?

"More like he cast her aside," Draco muttered, grunting when Hermione elbowed him. Maybe right now wasn't the time to throw in his two cents.

"I told you," Harry stressed, rubbing the woman's hand, "Hermione tried helping Ron, she really did. You haven't seen how stressed she's been these past weeks. I didn't notice it at first but now that I know the truth it's glaringly obvious."

Molly spun on him, jabbing a finger back towards her daughter. "What about the pain it's caused us all? Poor Ginny, she hasn't been the same-"

"We aren't talking about me right now mum," the ginger cut in, and Draco silently wondered what he was missing. "We're talking about Ron. We both told you, Hermione's allegations are true. McGonagall even told you he ran out of school-"

"And did anyone try to check on my baby?" Molly wailed, looking wildly around the room. Draco followed her gaze, noting the arrival of the headmistress and several others by the main doors, keeping their distance as the group talked. "No! No one cared, none of you! You just wanted to catch him and get him in trouble!"

"Ron is already in trouble dear," Arthur said, speaking for the first time. There were bags under his eyes as though he hadn't gotten a proper sleep in weeks. "I'm sure Hermione did try to help, like the children said. But he-"

"You can't be against him too!" Molly cried, shaking off the two men. She glared holes into Hermione's head, her cries echoing throughout the room. "No one took care of my Ron! No one stopped him. And now no one knows where he is! He could be dead! He could be gone, gone just like-"

She cut off, dissolving into a bout of hysterical sobs. Draco didn't need her to finish the sentence to know where it was going. Her wails were full of anguish and frustration that no one could fix. Arthur sat beside his wife, cradling her to him as she cried, trying to calm her fried nerves. He had a feeling nothing would do the trick, not until she realized all this was Weasley's doing by himself; not until she knew he was alive and well.

He flicked a glimpse towards the ginger behind her parents, her expression shattered and broken too. Something was said long before the Weasley's stormed their way into the infirmary, something that led to this moment right now. Molly may have nearly struck Hermione, but all her anger was spent. She didn't know who to blame anymore.

Still, it didn't ease his nerves. Every time he turned his back something was happening to her, and he wondered if that was part of the curse of being part of the Golden Trio. Glancing at Hermione, he noted she was crying to. She caught his gaze, scooting closer to his side so he could drape his arm around her. He found a bit of comfort in her being there, nuzzling against him and seeking comfort.

"Headmistress McGonagall informed us of what's been going on," Arthur said, breaking the silence as his wife cried. "It's shocking to say the least. We had no idea all this was happening with our son."

His comment was obviously directed at Hermione, and he felt a distinct sense to protect her from the Weasley's vicious words. Instead she straightened against him, raising her head higher than she had since they walked in.

"With everything else going on, I thought I'd ease your worries a bit." Her voice didn't break when she spoke, and he was instantly proud of how tall she held herself. "Ron asked me not to say anything. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do. When things didn't get better I should've spoken up and said something but I didn't. It may have made a difference."

"We won't know now," Arthur chirped, cutting her off. "With the drug cartel rising up as it is, even when Ron is found he will be dragged into interrogation instead of to St. Mungo's for immediate treatment before rehab. He's tangled too far in now."

"Everyone's involved now," Ginny spoke up, stepping closer to the group. "The Ministry's involved now, they are scouting Hogsmeade and shutting down outside travel off school grounds. We aren't even really supposed to go into the Forrest for now." She shifted her gaze, meeting Hermione's eyes. "They want personal statements from you and from Theo."

She nodded at his side, the action jerky and uneven. "I figured as much."

"And once the news of Death Eater's gets out people will be in a panic again," Harry seethed. "We know there are still many out there escaping sentences, but once citizens realize they've organized the drug cartel and have control over anyone addicted people will panic."

Draco let their words settle over him, unable to cut out Weasley's hostility towards Hermione. He'd love to give them a piece of his mind, and he'd really love to kick them out so he could see about kissing her again, but the moment was gone and there definitely wouldn't be a repeat now, not with her mood changing so fast. Glaring hard at Ginny, he hoped she got the message.

"Well, sitting in here won't change things," she snapped, her eyes briefly meeting his. She may act weird some days, but at least she could take a hint. "We need to finish speaking with the investigators so we can rest, and get you two home-"

"I-I don't need rest," Molly snapped, her voice overwhelmed by her tears. "I need my son!"

"And we won't be able to do anything more about it in here," Harry prompted, rising as well. People were starting to enter into the room, and the last thing they needed were reporters and investigators listening to this. Arthur helped his wife to her feet, ignoring anyone else as he strode towards the door, keeping his head held high. While his tone may have been chipped and short he didn't seem to hold any anger, even in his eyes, as he practically dragged his wife from the room before she could burst into tears again.

Draco could nearly respect that. Arthur was strong for his wife. With any luck the rest of his children at least inherited the trait.

Weasley and Potter didn't leave nearly as fast, something that Draco both expected and loathed. They turned towards Hermione and forced her to sit back on the bed again, hugging her tight. He supposed it wasn't so unexpected, seeing as they hadn't really gotten to talk to her since Weasley jumped her on the road back from Hogsmeade.

Stepping back he glanced towards Theo, who throughout the ordeal hadn't once stirred. He flexed his fingers, thinking of Weasley again and all the distress he caused. He certainly owed the git something the next time they crossed paths, though he wasn't so sure Hermione would approve if he beat him bloody.

He lifted his gaze, staring out the window. If only so many bloody people weren't involved, extracting revenge on Weasley would be a whole lot easier.


By the time they made it back to their rooms it was past dinner. The Ministry wanted reports from everyone, Draco included. Talking about it apparently stirred up something inside Hermione that she didn't want to discuss, and he lost track of her before everyone parted ways. The Weasley's were gone by now, along with their harsh words and their frayed feelings. He hadn't bothered to ask Weaselette how she was faring; Potter took more than enough care of her.

She beat him back to the common room by a good forty minutes. They probably could've arrived together, but he got held up by Blaise and Pansy. Theo would stay overnight for treatment, something that Pompfrey didn't think was needed for Hermione. Draco was almost certain it had to do with the fact that he had a taste for Willow's Weep and she didn't.

After escaping his friends and promising a better talk in the morning, Draco finally crossed through the threshold of the common room. No sooner had the door clicked closed than did the sound of glass shattering break the silence, and he jerked his head towards Hermione's room.

What else could possibly go wrong today?

He bolted towards her room, his wand out long before he reached the handle, every worst case scenario playing out in his head. The door opened without resistance and he froze in the threshold, staring into the space.

Apparently, she was in no danger at all. She sat upon her bed, tossing up one vial after another and using her wand to break them apart into nothing. There were no tear tracks on her cheeks this time, just a fierce anger as she reached for another vial, threw it in the air and shattered it before it could begin to descend.

"I wondered when you'd come back," she began, her voice much stronger than he expected. Dropping his guard he pocketed his wand, stepping further into the room to sit at the chair at her desk. "You've been gone a while."

"Blaise caught me," he admitted, watching her expression. Her lips were pressed tight together, and he wondered what exactly she was forcing down. "I owe him an explanation, and my rushed one didn't cut it. He only let me go because I promised to explain more to him in the morning."

She nodded, breaking another vial. "I see. I've been up here hiding. Harry and Ginny caught me in the halls for a few, but I didn't really want to talk to them tonight." She shrugged, her fingers pausing across the next vial. "I didn't want to hear their apologies for Molly."

Draco nodded in return, unable to justify the Weasley's reactions with words. Some of it seemed justified and some of it seemed so misplaced he simply couldn't agree. "Why are you breaking those?"

"There's no reason to keep them," she said with a shrug, fisting the next one. "Ron isn't here to need a placebo anymore, so why keep them? They just show how much time I wasted."

He let her throw up the next one, not bothering to stop her. "It isn't wasted. I told you there's no solution to this addiction right now, mostly just the will power to walk away, and a lot of people using it just don't have that. It would be a waste to throw out all your hard work just because Weasley is too dense to accept it."

Hermione smiled for a moment, the expression ghosting over her features. Then she seemed to catch herself doing it and she stopped, snatching up the next vial and breaking it to pieces. "The Ministry wouldn't listen to what I have to say on the matter. I may be bright Draco but I'm also a muggleborn, and there are still plenty of bigots running the government who don't want to listen to a thing I say."

"Actions speak much louder than words," he reasoned, getting up off the chair. He caught her wrist as she reached for another, sitting down in front of her on the bed. "Give them something to notice."

She scoffed, pulling out of his grip. "There's no guarantee I could do it. All my attempts haven't worked so far."

"They worked for Weasley."

"Only as a temporary fix. He wanted too much and the placebos didn't cut it. He noticed how weak they were and sought out more. That's not a fix."

"It's an improvement."

"Not by much," she sighed, letting go of the vial. He smoothed his fingers over her wrist, loosening his hold. "And it's no good unless it makes a real difference."

"I'm sure you could think of something," Draco replied, smirking. "You're pretty good with potions."

"It's the only class I've never been able to best you in," she muttered, smiling shyly up at him. "The Ministry's going to be preoccupied for a bit searching for Ron and the others, they won't think to keep an eye on us. Maybe together we could make progress with it."

He smirked wider, loving that she included him in her ideas. If she saw him helping her, then she wanted him to stay around. He moved his hand from her wrist, resting it again on her chin, his finger lightly playing with her lip. She inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut.

"I didn't get to finish earlier," he breathed, leaning a little closer. "Someone had to come in and interrupt."

"Such a shame," she whispered, keeping her eyes closed. Her lips pulled into a grin, and his body immediately reacted to her next words. "I was rather enjoying myself."

He moved in immediately, covering her lips with his own. Her hands moved to their own accord and wound around his neck, his other arm finding its way again to the small of her back, deepening the kiss. Their lips clashed together, one kiss falling into another as time slipped away.

Draco had no sense of how much time passed before she pulled away, cheeks and chest flushed and she gasped for air. Her eyes were hooded and glazed, blinking several times before she focused on him again. A smile graced her features, and he couldn't help but return the gesture.

"I was right," she murmured, reaching up to play with his hair, "I quite enjoyed that."

He smirked, offering her a hand to help her up from the bed. He wouldn't mind pushing her back down and kissing her some more, but they had other things to focus on and after the day she had he wasn't sure it would help.

Hermione let him help her up without complaint, smoothing down her clothes as she stood and accessed the room. Since the glass kept disappearing each time she shattered something the space was clean except for some boxes. He could see the gears turning in her head, already planning on what to do. He smirked, glad she could focus so hard on something not solely focused on Weasley.

"We'll need more room," she began, already pacing the space. "We can both work in here but I don't want my room a mess all the time."

"We can use part of my room?" he asked, his eyes following her every move. She looked absolutely delicious when she set her mind on something.

Hermione paused a moment, thinking it over. "Maybe, but that might be cumbersome to move things about like that. No, the common room may be better, though we don't necessarily want everyone seeing what we're doing."

He arched an eyebrow, leaning into the wall. "We don't?"

"Of course not!" she cried, wandering around the room again. "Just in case it doesn't work of course."

"Of course," he mimicked, playing along. She was already six steps ahead of where he was and he wasn't about to try and figure it out now.

Accessing the room one more time she turned and nodded to him with a smile, apparently pleased. "Well, we better get to work Draco. We have a lot to do."

A/N: After all the drama in the last chapter I thought we could end on a happier note this time. Let me know what you think! For anyone still confused about the drugs and what's going on, more will be explained in the coming chapters as they learn more.