A/N: I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter! Originally I wanted Hermione and Draco to eat some food in the Room of Requirement – chocolate-coated strawberries, oysters, that sort of thing – only to find out that the things they've eaten are aphrodisiacs. But apparently the Room of Requirement can't produce food, so I had to go with a slightly different idea.

Anyway, here's chapter three. Please read and review!

Chapter Three

Today was the day they were meant to begin their ruse, and Draco didn't have the faintest idea how he was meant to go about it.

Frustratedly, Draco realised he should've listened to Granger when she suggested some methods last night. She was sitting across him in the Great Hall, having breakfast with her fellow Gryffindors, but it wasn't as if there was anything Draco could do now. He could hardly march up to her and say, 'Hey, Granger. Nice tie. Fancy going out with me?' then snog her next to the fried eggs.

It didn't help that he was extremely tired and thus incapable of thinking about anything too complicated at that moment. It was no wonder – he'd been up until gone one in the morning discussing the plan with her. He ignored the conversations of the other Slytherins on the breakfast table, instead taking moody, thoughtful bites of his green apple.

Theodore Nott leaned into him suddenly.

"Bit tired after your late-night rendezvous, mate?" he said.

A stab of panic went through Draco's chest. Nott didn't know that he was planning the ruse with Granger, did he?

"What are you on about?" Draco replied casually, keeping his concentration on his apple.

Nott grinned. "Don't be coy. I heard you, sneaking out of the dormitory last night. Meeting another one of your birds for a shag, were you?"

Draco had to stop himself from giving an audible sigh of relief. Nott didn't know anything about Granger, then; he just thought Draco was sleeping with girls in the Room of Requirement like usual.

"A gentlemen never tells, Nott," he drawled, taking another bite of his apple.

"But you aren't a gentleman," Nott observed. "You're a tosser."

Draco shrugged. Couldn't argue with that.

The next he saw of Hermione Granger was in Potions. Draco had worked his arse off to get an 'Outstanding' in his Potions OWL so that Professor Snape would let him take it for his NEWT; then some old biddy called Professor Slughorn had replaced Snape as Potions Master and only required an 'Exceeds Expectations', so all his hard work had been for nothing. Draco didn't mind too much, though. He found Potions interesting and was actually quite good at it. His father had been pleased with his OWL grade, anyway.

Hermione was seated a few rows ahead of him, her ridiculous bushy hair easily distinguishing her from the other students. Draco brushed his long, elegant fingers thoughtfully along his quill, trying to come up with an excuse to get closer to her so they could get to work on the plan.

Professor Slughorn was showing them some potion in a cauldron.

"Now," he was saying, "can anyone tell me what this potion is?"

Immediately Granger's hand shot up. Draco had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Merlin, Granger was such an insufferable know-it-all.

"It's Amortentia, sir," she said. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world, recognisable by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen and the steam rising from it in characteristic spirals. It's rumoured to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. For example…"

Merlin, she couldn't have just said 'It's Amortentia, sir', could she? She had to give the full bloody Book of Potions encyclopaedia entry.

A gaggle of girls were edging closer to the cauldron, their eyes half-closed as if they were inhaling a particularly delicious aroma. Draco curled his lip in disgust. Merlin's beard, you had to be seriously tragic to rely on a love potion to get someone to fancy you. Draco had enough girls obsessed with him without one. In fact, it would be more worthwhile if someone could invent the opposite of a love potion – some handy elixir that would make clingy girls like Pansy Parkinson suddenly want to get as far away from him as possible. Unlike the seductive scents of Amortentia, he thought, it would smell like cheese, old socks and rotten that would be useful. He'd have to consult Professor Snape to see if something like that already existed.

"Now, Amortentia doesn't create actual love – that would be impossible," Slughorn explained. "However, what it does cause is powerful infatuation or obsession. For that reason, it is undoubtedly one of the most dangerous potions in existence – and also the potion we will be brewing in today's lesson."

He put the lid back on the cauldron. The girls who had been standing nearby gave a collective gasp, as if they'd just come to their senses.

"Complicated and time-consuming, Amortentia is terribly tricky to make, not least because of the intoxicating scents produced when brewing the potion," Slughorn said with a chuckle. "For this reason, I will be placing each of you in pairs for this lesson. Harry, why don't you go with – er – Wallenby over there? Miss Granger, excellent work in identifying the potion – you can go with McLaggen."

His eyes met Draco's.

"And you, my dear boy – what's your name?"

Draco put on the dazzling smile he usually reserved for people he thought could be useful to him.

"It's Malfoy, sir. Draco Malfoy."

Slughorn's eyes lit up. "Ah! You wouldn't happen to be the son of Lucius Malfoy, now, would you?"

"That's me, sir." After a brief moment's reflection, he added, "My father has always spoken very highly of you."

The name 'Slughorn' had never so much passed his father's lips.

Slughorn beamed widely. "Yes, I taught Lucius at Hogwarts many years ago. Very talented boy – as is his son, if your 'Outstanding' grade in your Potions OWL is anything to go by! Say, isn't your father on the Board of Governors here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, his work as Governor keeps him very busy – when he isn't tied up with all he does at the Ministry, of course," Draco added purposefully.

Slughorn looked very pleased at this information. "Well, I daresay I will be seeing a lot more of him!" he said. "Now, who shall I put you with? How about… Neville Longbottom?"

Draco glanced at Neville, who was hulking awkwardly near the back of the room, clutching a heap of ingredients presumably taken from Herbology, and felt a wave of disgust rise in his chest.

But suddenly an idea began to form in Draco's mind. All morning he had been wondering how to begin his ruse with Granger. Now, it seemed an opportunity had presented itself.

Before Slughorn could move on to the next name, Draco had raised his hand.

"Excuse me, sir," Draco interrupted, "but I was hoping you could put me with someone who's actually competent."

Angry murmurs rose from the Gryffindor students. Even Slughorn looked surprised at his nasty comment. Draco thought he could feel Granger's eyes on him, and the rules they had agreed upon – be nice – burned hot in his mind.

"It's just that your subject is important to me, sir," Draco went on. "I got an 'Outstanding' in my Potions OWL, and I'd quite like to get the same in my NEWT. So I was hoping that I could pair up with someone more… on my level, if you know what I mean."

Slughorn hesitated. He's going to say 'no', Draco realised in frustration.

Surreptitiously, Draco flicked his wind in Neville's direction. Confundo! he thought fiercely.

Neville gave a yelp and dropped the ingredients he was carrying. A jar fell and shattered against the ground, sending hundreds of eel eyes rolling across the floor. Some newts escaped from a wooden box that had slipped open and began scurrying across people's shoes. A Mandrake began to scream; Draco thought he saw Lavender Brown faint from the piercing sound. Immediately the room was filled with screaming, hopping students all scrambling to get away from Neville.

Slughorn, looking a little alarmed, waved his wand. The ingredients gathered themselves up off the floor and went back into their containers, which were rapidly piecing themselves back together.

"Oh, very well, then," he said unhappily. "I suppose I can make an exception just this once, since you had a particularly glowing reference from Professor Snape for your aptitude in Potions. If I recall, Granger also did very well in her Potions OWL last year. You may go with her."

Draco tried to stop himself from smirking at the ingeniousness of his plan. He settled his face into a scowl more appropriate for someone who would normally be revolted at being paired with Granger.

He expected Granger to be similarly pleased, and perhaps even impressed. But when she marched over to join him, there was an expression of anger on her face – and not because she was only pretending for the ruse.

"I thought we agreed, Malfoy," she hissed, "that you were to be nice to my friends as a condition of our plan!"

"Relax, Granger," he drawled in reply. "I only insulted Longbottom so Slughorn would pair us up. It was a necessary step."

"Yes, well, we could have found a way to begin our ruse without you humiliating poor Neville in front of the whole class!"

"I daresay he's used to it by now."

"That doesn't make it OK-"

"Granger-"

"Malfoy-"

Draco was fast losing patience. Grabbing Hermione's wrist, he bent until his lips were level with her ear.

"We won't have a ruse for much longer, Granger," he growled darkly, "if you keep shouting about it to the entire class."

Hermione cast a nervous glance around, afraid they'd been found out before they'd even begun. But to her relief, most of the class were still listening to Slughorn, who was arranging the remaining pairings for the lesson. Ron in particular was not paying any attention to her in the slightest. He'd been paired with Harry, yet somehow he seemed to have ended up with Lavender, who was swooning into his arms even though it had been a good five minutes since the Mandrake screamed. A fresh stab of jealousy reminded her of the necessity of the ruse.

"OK," Hermione said, feeling a sudden wave of motivation. "Let's get started, then."

Whether Hermione was talking about the ruse or the potion they'd been asked to make wasn't clear.

They turned to the relevant page in their potions books and worked for most of the lesson in silence. Hermione concentrated on bruising her peppermint flower heads with a mortar and pestle, sometimes imagining that the flower she was furiously pounding was Lavender Brown's head. Draco, meanwhile, was busy crushing moonstone into a fine powder, occasionally adding pinches of it to the cauldron.

For all of Draco's faults – and there were many – Hermione had to admit that Draco was surprisingly good at Potions. She couldn't help but admire the way his hands handled the ingredients with surprising dexterity, and the meticulousness with which he monitored the potion, frequently glancing at his book and then the bubbling water of the cauldron to check its progress. His hands were large and creamy white and slightly veiny, with long elegant fingers that for some reason made Hermione think he'd be good at undoing the buttons on a shirt. They really were the nicest hands Hermione had ever seen.

They were about halfway through the lesson and they still hadn't begun their ruse, however. Draco had barely spoken to her or even glanced her way, save an ungracious "Pass me the peppermint leaves" a bit earlier. Hermione found herself becoming increasingly anxious that time was running out. She suspected that Draco had a plan in his head, but if he did he hadn't shared it with her; and the thought that he might just be playing things by ear offended every ultra-organised bone in her body.

She decided to make the first move.

Giving a loud, lovestruck sigh, she brought her hand up to brush Malfoy's elbow.

Draco instantly whipped round and caught her wrist.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Granger?" His voice was hard.

Hermione blinked, taken aback at the hostility in his tone. "I'm just – playing my part – for the ruse, I mean-"

"Is this what you call a ruse?" he hissed darkly. "You are being more obvious than a Hungarian Horntail in a fleet of Thestrals. Do you want everyone to know about our plan?"

"No," Hermione said, sounding a little affronted.

"Then stop behaving like an idiotic Gryffindor and start thinking more like a Slytherin. If you want people to believe we're actually falling in love, we have to take things slowly." Raising his voice, Draco added loudly, "Watch where you're putting your hands, you clumsy gargoyle."

Hermione blinked and went back to the potion, feeling somewhat stung. She knew that Malfoy had only acted as he did because he didn't want to spoil the plan, and that she wouldn't care for Malfoy's affections in any case; but being rejected so savagely still hurt. It reminded her, not for the first time that week, that she was the sort of plain, swotty girl boys wouldn't touch with a ten-feet long wand. She could never do what Lavender did: she could never pretend to swoon and yet not be afraid to fall, knowing that some boy would be there to catch her.

The realisation made tears prick her eyes. Hermione quickly blinked them away and pretended some dust from the powdered moonstone had got into her eyes.

Very little happened for the remainder of the lesson. At one point Draco's hand brushed hers when they both went to reach for an ingredient, and a strange jolt went up Hermione's arm; but then she realised it was just Draco subtly playing his part, and she pushed the feeling away.

By the end of the lesson their potion didn't look anything like the Amortentia Slughorn had showed them at the start. Hermione was surprised – they'd both followed the instructions perfectly – until she glanced at her Potions book and saw there were still a few more steps.

"Sir," she said, raising her hand, "it says here that we have to stir the potion by moonlight over the next seven days."

"Right you are, Miss Granger," Slughorn said cheerfully. "Indeed, your homework is to work on the potion for the next week and document the changes with your partner."

A collective groan rippled through the class. Hermione thought she heard Seamus mutter, "Thanks for reminding him, Granger" under his breath.

Far from being dismayed, however, both Hermione and Draco felt relieved at the assignment. It would give them an excuse to spend time together – at least for the next week.

Hermione addressed Malfoy as she packed up her books, trying to keep her voice light and inconspicuous.

"Shall we meet for our assignment at ten o'clock tonight, then?" she asked casually.

Draco's eyes betrayed nothing as he met her gaze.

"If we must, Granger," he replied. "I'll meet you outside the classroom so we can collect our cauldron."

Hermione nodded and tried to look unbothered, but inside her heart was racing. Up until now, she'd just planned for her and Malfoy to undergo a ruse. Now that it was actually happening, and the prospect of spending time with him every day for the next week loomed ahead, the gravity of what she was doing finally hit her. There was no backing out of things now; detention with Professor Slughorn would await her if she did. She could not stop her hands from trembling slightly as she packed the last of her things into her bag.

Draco ignored her and instead turned back to their cauldron. The recipe required them to cover the cauldron with a silk cloth and keep it in a dark place between stirrings to brew. Rolling up the sleeves of his robes, Draco heaved the cauldron up and carried it to the storage cupboard at the back of the classroom.

As he brought it near his face, the faintest scent rose from the shimmering depths of the cauldron's nascent contents and kissed his nose. It smelt like green apples and old oak-panelled rooms, and a strange aroma that Draco was sure he had encountered before yet didn't quite recognise, but which reminded him of fresh parchment and fiery golden eyes.