Hermione still hadn't fallen asleep when the sun rose on Christmas Day. Instead of slumbering with visions of sugar plums dancing in her head, she had worn the carpet in her room thin with her continuous pacing over the last few hours, reviewing the night repeatedly. Her brain, simply put, was in overdrive, a setting usually reserved for dark wizards and saving Harry Potter's life. No matter how many times she revisited it, she could not work out how last night had played out as it did. And, more importantly, why. Why would someone give Draco Malfoy a love potion? Who dosed Draco? Was it their aim for her to be the target of his affections or a potion gone awry? Past the potion, Draco Malfoy also posed another mystery that Hermione was eager to crack. He all but admitted he was involved in something nefarious, and Hermione intended to find out what. Unlike Harry's suspicions from earlier in the term, Hermione didn't think Draco was a major player. Instead, she wanted to save the friend she made last night from whatever gave him the panic attack - if that friend was truly lurking under the cold exterior of Malfoy.
At random intervals the memory of their kiss would overwhelm her careful analysis. She actively tried to block it from her mind, but it wormed its way back in with alarming persistence. Thoughts of previous kisses never stuck in her brain like gum that wouldn't dislodge from your shoe. Hermione had kissed three boys prior to last night.
Her first kiss was with her neighbor, Colin Jones. They had been best friends throughout primary school and he was devastated that she'd be leaving to go to a faraway boarding school. The day before she boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, they'd sat in a tree in the park down the lane from their homes, talking until the sunset. Just before they left, the chubby boy grabbed her shoulders without warning and reached up to kiss the taller girl quickly. While just a chaste peck, it had left 11 year old Hermione reeling for weeks. In a new school with no friends, Hermione thought back to the moment often in the first few months at Hogwarts, when she was at her loneliest. He moved away before she returned, but the memory of her first kiss would crop up every one in awhile, making her smile with fond nostalgia for that innocent time.
Her next kiss didn't come until fourth year when a romance with Viktor Krum had blossomed over a mutual love of literature. The famous quidditch player stole his first kiss the night of the Yule Ball after walking her back to the portrait entrance to Gryffindor Tower. When she moved to hug him goodbye, Victor leaned in, brushing her lips with his. While almost as pure as her first kiss, it light a fire in her chest. For the next few months, he didn't have to steal any kisses from her; she readily gave them. They shared gentle kisses goodnight after study sessions together and more passionate kisses between reading next to the Great Lake. Though he couldn't pronounce her name and they were now just friends, Hermione held a special place in her heart for the respectful and gallant boy who gave her her real first kiss.
Then there had been Josh, the English muggle boy she met while her extended family went skiing in France last year before she returned to help Harry. Her much older cousins dragged her to a party in the lodge, where she and Josh started talking over red solo cups full of beer. Having a hard time hearing each other over the noise of their fellow party goers, Hermione suggested they take a walk around the ski lodge. Josh held her hand as they talked about muggle politics and dredged through the snow. When partygoers' fireworks sprung into the sky to welcome the new year, Josh grabbed her other hand and captured her with a hard kiss. She welcomed it, unsure of herself at first, before leaning further in. Once the fireworks subsided, she stepped back and thanked him before scurrying back to her parents' suite.
Last night's kiss was different than any kiss she had experienced before. Firstly, because she hated the kisser in question until just a few hours before the kiss. Or possibly still hated him, should the boy she enjoyed spending time with not really exist within Draco Malfoy. She had yet to determine that. But besides the person she kissed, the kiss itself was more intense than any she'd previously partook in. From soft to desperate in a span of a few minutes, she'd wanted to keep kissing him for hours. That desire made her more ashamed of her actions because he had been under the influence and not acting right. Even if he had instigated their kiss, he couldn't consent to it like that, not really. Each time she'd reach these thoughts, she'd groan and actively think of the mysteries at hand instead.
At 6AM Crookshanks' meowing forced her to break out of this cycle. "Merry Christmas Crooks," she whispered to him as she fed him breakfast. She surveyed the presents sitting on the trunk at the end of her bed, wondering if she should open them. While she felt her biggest Christmas gift was not having to worry about Lavender and Parvati prattling away about Ron in the room, ignoring her, she had several packages to open. None of course, were from her parents. Hermione thought of them for the first time today, wondering how they were celebrating in Australia. She imagined them on the beach, enjoying a summer Christmas instead of the winter wonderland she was currently buried in. Hermione's heart ached. She wished for one of her dad's bear hugs and for her mom's calm advice when she struggled with a problem. "Not that I'd tell Mum about last night," Hermione muttered to the empty room, her stomach twisting at the thought of the kiss again. The one pleasant aspect of last night's ordeal was that it had distracted Hermione completely from spending Christmas Eve alone in Gryffindor Tower, missing her parents and friends. "I suppose I should thank the mystery person who curated last night for that one grace," she said to Crookshanks as she sorted her presents into neat stacks.
Her hands rushed to the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes package, stocked with sugar quills, muggle Christmas candy she knew they packed in just for her, and a prototype for a homework planner she had suggested, which would remind the owner when they forgot an upcoming assignment, much to the twins' chagrin at the time. The note in the front informed her she'd received the only copy that would ever exist, prompting her to chuckle to herself. The rest of the gifts were unsurprising: a scarf and jumper from Mrs. Weasley, a blank floppy disk from an unknowing Mr. Weasley, a new quill from Neville, a Christmas edition of the Quibbler from Luna, and a book on advanced healing spells from Harry. Ron's gift surprised her, however. She'd saved it for last, surprised he'd bothered given their ongoing row. He had haphazardly wrapped a photo of herself, him, and Harry, taken last summer at The Burrow. The three of them smiled for the camera before dissolving into fits of laughter. Hermione smiled, her finger gently outlining the shapes of her best friends. The photo and the fact that Ron had decided to give it to her, put her mind the most at ease as it had been since before Malfoy showed up in the library last night.
She gently placed the frame on her nightstand, alongside the unmoving photo of her parents on their last holiday to Paris. Sighing, Hermione turned back to the heap of gifts and began to clean away the wrapping paper. Another gift rolled towards her, a small tube in bright red paper. She lifted it to inspect the card, which read, "You deserve this. Promise me you'll use it on Christmas - I know you won't be alone at Hogwarts. Don't let Ron be the only one who gets all the fun. Love, Gin." Hermione glared at the note suspiciously, wondering what kind of trouble her friend wrapped up for her.
Ripping the paper off, Hermione inspected the small tube. It was an enchanted lipstick, made with powdered Veela hair, that promised both undivided attention to your lips by any surrounding men and a better quality of kisses. Hermione laughed at what clearly had to be a gag gift from Ginny. But under that laugh she felt a pang of loneliness. She missed Ginny. She missed everyone. Twisting the container in her hand, she thought of her parents, the empty common room, and Harry and the Weasleys at the Burrow. She couldn't deny the heavy feeling in her chest when she reflected on her yuletide isolation, nor could she ignore the temptation to escape it. For a moment she considered skipping breakfast and ignoring facing Draco Malfoy today, opting for a happy Christmas instead.
"I can't use this," Hermione decided, slipping the vial into her nightstand drawer and slamming it shut to punctuate her point. She sat back on her bed, thinking of who her friend had thought she might kiss and chewing her bottom lip. Again, the kiss from the previous night invaded her mind. Hermione knew she had to approach Draco to apologize for her actions, which she was dreading. But she also hoped he'd help her get to the bottom of what actually happened. She reached for the parchment she'd scribbled on all night. She took out a fresh sheet to organize her scattered thoughts and began writing:
Priorities Before Break Ends
Apologize to D Malfoy for behavior last night
Ask him about the potion
He mentioned he was drinking firewhiskey, which smelled like vanilla and parchment, likely the source
See if he knew where the firewhiskey came from and ask him to identify who possible suspects could be, whether it was a prank or something more serious
Possible suspects:
Pansy Parkinson - love potion somehow gone wrong?
Harry Potter/Ron Weasley - possibly a Weasley potion prank gone wrong, with no intention of involving me? They hate him, but still unlikely
Determine what kind of trouble he is in and why he panicked last night
Likely something Dark as he mentioned it was dangerous to tell the truth, Harry's suspicions may be accurate
Possibly includes his mother?
Try to help
She sighed as she reviewed the list. She found herself surprised that she couldn't bring herself to write "possible Death Eater" on her list, as Harry suspected. When she dropped the paper into her nightstand drawer, Ginny's lipstick stared back at her. She slammed the drawer forcefully before dragging herself out the door to talk to the blond at breakfast. But a few seconds later, she walked back in and grabbed the lipstick. "Let's just see if the attention part works. For knowledge's sake," she muttered to herself before applying the pink lipstick to her lips.