"I cannot believe that you've forced me to do this on a perfectly fine Saturday morning," Amelia rolled her eyes as she walked into lunch with Fred and George. The duo chuckled, clutching a small vial in each of their pockets. "I am warning you though. It will not work."

Fred glanced at her amused, "And why is that?"

Amelia sighed. When these two set out to do something, they will do it no matter the odds or consequences. She might as well try to have a conversation with a brick wall, "There is an age line around the bloody thing! Dumbledore drew it himself!"

"And…?" said George.

"And?! Bloody hell, guys! Dumbledore will not be fooled by something as dimwitted as an ageing potion. No matter who brewed it," Amelia shoved hair out of her face with quite a deal of frustration. She had to add the small pat on her shoulder in the end.

"That's why it is so brilliant-"

"- because it's so dimwitted," George finished Fred's sentence and they left her standing at the Great Hall's entrance. Amelia shook her head. Besting Dumbledore might as well count as winning from the get-go.

The twins did not take NO for an answer as far as the Triwizard Tournament went. They came up with a plan overnight. A stupid plan, but still a plan. She watched them sitting down at the Gryffindor table way too happy with themselves.

Amelia headed to the Slytherin table, her eyes widening when she spotted a rather cranky Daphne murdering already dead (and grilled) chicken.

"What has the food done to you?" she chuckled as she sat down opposite of her. Daphne's eyes snapped towards her and she might as well have dropped dead on the spot.

"Where were you?" she groaned, stabbing her fork into the already shredded piece of chicken. Amelie glanced at Blaise, who just shook his head. He sat suspiciously far away from her. Not that she blamed him, seeing the state of her.

"I will tell you if you put down all the potential weapons," Amelia raised a brow at her, "Why are you up anyway?"

Daphne took her sleep seriously, especially on the weekends. One usually only saw her at dinner, she tended to get out of bed only after lunch and everyone learnt fairly quickly not to mess with her.

"Malfoy," she hissed. It sounded more like an insult. More than usual anyway.

"Well, you surely are not the first mad at him…" Amelia shrugged as she leaned across the table for the bowl of mashed potatoes. Blaise motioned to her not to try to be funny, scrunching up his nose. He apparently already tried that route. The distance made even more sense now.

Daphne snatched her hand, "He was looking for you." She glared at her.

"Okay… And?" Amelia asked, not even bothering to hide her confusion anymore. "He heard rather clearly I planned on spending the morning with Fred and George…"

"You should go find him. "

Amelia scoffed, "Absolutely not." She shook her head and tried to grab the bowl of food again.

"No. Go now." Daphne demanded, stopping her hand again. Amelia groaned, rolling her eyes before looking at her. Daphne looked deadly serious, for some reason. She wondered if it was because she got woken up prematurely or if she wasn't telling her something.

"Why?"

"I don't know… I mean he looked quite desperate to find you if I'm honest," she shrugged. "Fuck, he will skin me… Don't tell him, I've said that."

Amelia giggled, "Okay… but save me those potatoes." She sighed as she got up.

Had she any idea where to even start looking for Malfoy? No.

Did she want to look for him? No.

She genuinely considered walking around the castle for fifteen or twenty minutes and then returning and claiming she couldn't find him.

This is ridiculous. If this is another of Daphne and Theo's meddling … I will shred them like that poor chicken, Amelia complained to herself as she jogged up the stairs leading from the Great Hall into the corridors.

"Lost something?" a deep voice sounded from one of the alcoves near the courtyard as she did the second lap of it. Amelia jumped up, clutching her chest.

"Pucey," she nodded. The boy joined her in the corridor, straightening his jacket.

"So… what are we looking for?"

Amelia gaped at him, Draco's words from the day prior circling in her head. He imagines bending you over the sofa's armrest in the common room. She gulped, "Nothing… I am looking for Draco, actually."

He smirked, "Sure."

His brow raised as she blushed.

Fully realizing how uncomfortable he was making her. Something about how he looked at her while he loomed over her made her stomach drop. And not in a good way.

"Fancy one?" he offered an open sweets box from Honeydukes to her. She quirked a brow at him. He's been chewing on it himself, what's the harm? Plus, it was her favourite Jelly Slugs.

"Oh, thank you," she pressed a smile as she pulled a bright orange slug out of the box.

"Anytime. If you are looking for Malfoy – I am pretty sure he headed somewhere in the direction of Potions class," he nodded towards the dungeons.

She looked in the general direction, "Brilliant! Thanks."

"I will go with you," he offered, adjusting the bag over his shoulder. Amelia was about to protest, "I am heading down there anyway, plus, we can share more slugs on our way."

Amelia hesitantly walked with him as his hand gently pushed against her back.

She had another 2 or 3 slugs before she started feeling oddly warm considering they were headed to the dungeon. This shouldn't be the case in late October. She jerked the zipper on her hoodie lower, hoping that some colder air will make her feel better. They walked by several other students, all heading towards the Great Hall, neither of them seemed to feel even remotely warm.

"Is it warm in here or am I tripping?" she asked as she stopped to eventually take the hoodie off completely, tying it around her waist. Pucey cocked a brow at her, shrugging and instead offered her another slug.

The corridor was deadly quiet. Amelia quickly realised there was no one down there, but them.

"I think I will head back to the Great Hall," she muttered, feeling pearls of cold sweat forming on the back of her neck. Her heart rate picked up for no apparent reason. She was about to turn on her heel and head back, when he grabbed her wrist, tugging her back.

His touch almost burnt on her skin. The warmth ran up her arm, into her chest and quickly spread through her whole body.

Oh no.

She knew something was wrong.

With her.

With him.

Something was wrong. She walked straight into it.

"I– I really have to go," she stuttered, trying to pry his hand off of her wrist. But the longer he had his hand on her and the more she touched him, the stronger the burn on her skin and spreading through her got. Her stomach was in a knot.

Her reason was telling her to run. But something cross-wired in her brain and something beckoned her to want to get closer to him. Her body wanted him to touch her.

His hand gripped her shoulder and she stumbled backwards, slamming her back against the cold stone wall. She gasped for air at the impact, eye wide. Pucey stepped towards her, a sly smile stretching over his face. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Her brain blank, all she felt was the odd warmth spreading through her. What felt like a small spark, none saying warmth turned into a wildfire in her veins.

Horrified at herself when she realized it's lust.

She wanted Pucey.

His hand slid to the nape of her neck. The touch made her breath get stuck halfway up her throat. She grabbed onto him, pulling him closer. Why she did that, Amelia did not know.

He crashed his lips against hers, sending another wave of warmth through her. She could just as well have molten lava instead of blood. Only his touch could turn the uncomfortable hot feeling into pleasure and relief. If he won't touch her, she will self-combust. It seemed fairly simple.

He forced a tongue past her lips as his hands ravished her, pressing bruises into her hips as he pulled her against him, yanking up her top, getting access to her breasts, squeezing them.

She had moments of self-awareness, consciousness if you will. Those were the moments, when she tried to push him off, hit him or just beg him to stop.

"No… Don't," she managed to get out, before his lips attached to her neck, leaving love bites down the side of her throat. These moments of clear-mindedness never lasted long, they went away as soon as he moved on to different action, body part or even changed the pressure he held her with.

A low moan escaped her lips as his hand brushed against her exposed abdomen, undoing the button on her jeans. Amelia squirmed away from his hand he tried to force down her pants.

"Get away from her!" a frantic voice yelled from the other end of the corridor. Draco rushed towards them, a murderous look on his face as he drew his wand. Pucey smirked, raising his hands in surrender as he theatrically took few steps back. As soon as the pressure of his body against her was gone, she collapsed to the floor.

The fire in her veins was back.

Draco glanced at Amelia. She seemed fine all things considered, he found her soon enough. Relief washed over him. His attention turned to sneering Pucey, pressing a wand to his throat.

"You are horrendous cockblock, Malfoy. You know that?" Pucey taunted him.

Amelia whimpered, trying to get as much contact with the floor in a desperate attempt to cool off. The burning was torturous. The stones felt cold but had no effect on her. She cried, writhing on the floor. An invisible cold hand squeezed his heart and lungs. He jerked a breath in, peeling his eyes off of the girl now in visible agony.

"What did you give her?" Draco narrowed his eyes back at Pucey. He just shrugged with a short laugh. Draco shoved him forcefully against a wall, thanking Merlin he was Chaser and not a Beater, "Don't test me. What did you give her?!"

"Mr Malfoy! 30 points from Slytherin. Don't make me punish my own house," Snape gritted out through his teeth as he floated from behind the corner.

"Professor! All due respect, but seriously?!" Draco barked at him, pointing at Amelia on the floor, squirming around in tears a couple of feet away from them. Snape just noticed her, and his eyes darted between the three of them, putting the puzzle together.

"Please, it burns…" she cried out, clawing at her exposed skin. Her nails against her skin created a distraction from the scorching pain everywhere. It made her brain ignore everything else for a split second as it tried to figure out what this new pain is.

Now with Pucey further away, her mind cleared, but the burning persisted. She would take Cruciatus over this any day. It cannot be any worse. At least the curse had an end in sight, this was still only getting worse.

Draco felt tempted to pull her top back down or throw his jacket over her, but there was no way he was letting go of Pucey. Snape knelt next to her, grabbing her wrist so she would stop scratching herself up.

She expected some relief when he touched her, zero damns given by her that it was Snape touching her… But it didn't come. Her theory ruined. It cannot be any touch, it had to be Pucey.

"Malfoy. Get Madame Pomfrey. If given the opportunity send the headmaster or Professor McGonagall this way," Snape said in his signature clipped cold voice. He sighed shortly, glancing at Amelia before his dark eyes found Pucey. His smirk was gone now.

"Hey, Draco!" Daphne called after him, she noticed him as she was leaving the Great Hall. "Hey! Did Amelia find you?"

He froze on spot, for a moment forgetting where he was heading, "What do you mean?" He snarled as she walked up to him.

"I told her to go find you since you were looking for her…" she hesitated as she noticed the rather ugly look on his face.

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Oh you dumb bitch… No, I've found her. The only thing she managed was to get drugged by Pucey," he growled, holding himself back as his hand tingled. The desire to slap that oblivious face was growing inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. Draco exhaled as he opened his eyes. He glanced into the Great Hall, "Be useful for once and send McGonagall towards potion class, Snape asked for her or Dumbledore." He barked at her as he took off again.

Daphne stood frozen on spot for a moment, watching Draco disappear in the corridors.

"What got his panties in a twist?" Blaise appeared behind her.

She shudders, "I fucked up…"

When he came back to the dungeon corridor with Mrs Pomfrey in tow, Pucey and Snape were gone. Professor McGonagall by Amelia's side.

Amelia was gripping her hand convulsively, shaking.

"Oh Poppy!" the Professor breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of incoming footsteps.

At first, Draco got relieved that Amelia was better, but having look at her again, it did not seem to be the case.

"Oh no! What happened, Minerva?" Madame Pomfrey fell to her knees by Amelia's side, pushing away the hair that stuck to her face away. She was pale as a sheet, clammy, covered in sweat.

He better be gone when I get back to the common room… I will shove a broom so far up his ass… Draco started painting scenarios of what he would do to Pucey if he got his hands on him again as he stumbled back, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Potion experiment went wrong–"

Draco couldn't help himself but scoff. The two older witches turned to him irritated.

"Anything to add, Mr Malfoy?"

"A lot, actually. Pucey drugged her. On purpose. Some upgrade of Amortentia if you ask me. Lust potion. I reported him brewing it a few days ago, though I thought it was just Amortentia. As you can see nothing was done. I warned her to stay away from him yesterday, ignored as well. Why do I bother, really?"

"How did you exactly find yourself here?" Professor McGonagall questioned him as Madame Pomfrey tended to Amelia. A sob ringed through the corridor and he realized some monster has put a muffling spell on her. Making her suffer in silence.

His stomach did a backflip.

"I was looking for her. His stash of whatever he was brewing was gone this morning," he shrugged, eyeing Amelia. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, signalling that he should continue, "To my knowledge, she spent the whole morning with the Weasley boys. At lunch, Greengrass, the simple soul, told her I was looking for her and made her go and look for me. And here we are…"

"Madame Pomfrey, glad you've made it," Snape quipped as he reappeared with a vial of dark blue potion, metallic particles swirled inside of it. "An antidote. Mr Pucey is thankfully not stupid enough to forget what he put in his concoction," he sneered as he handed the vial to Madame Pomfrey.

"Are you sure it will work?" she looked up at him with doubt in her eyes.

Snape narrowed her eyes on her, "It certainly won't hurt and at least take the edge off the more severe symptoms."

Take the edge off… He knew way too well that a normal love potion can last for a whole day. She wouldn't last the whole day.

"Severus, what was it?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Snape turned towards them, folding his arms across his chest, "A rather nasty brew. It can be hardly called a love potion. It was made to evoke a deep lust towards whoever's hair was dropped in it. Only their… touch, besides other things, would soothe the severe side-effects," he stated matter-of-factly. Draco raised a brow at besides other things. His mind took it and ran with it to rather dark places. "Reminded me of what Cruciatus would cause. Ms Wood complained of her blood being on fire in particular."

Professor McGonagall turned to Amelia; a hand clapped against her mouth. Draco almost fell sick to his stomach.

I will kill him, he decided as he made peace with it.

"Easy…" Madame Pomfrey steadied Amelia, who tried to sit up. Draco's stomach did another backflip and a huge stone got lifted off of his chest when his eyes landed on her again.

"Draco…" she breathed out his name. He squeezed himself between McGonagall and Snape, kneeling next to her as he grabbed her extended hand. She felt clammy and cold. She tried to squeeze his hand but barely conjured up enough strength for him to even notice it. "I am sorry…"

He shook his head, "Na-ah, he will be sorry."

Draco seethed as he knocked on Snape's office. He always thought that people who claim to see red were overly dramatic. They were not. He saw red and hoped it was Pucey's blood.

"Mr Malfoy. Something wrong?"

Draco took a deep breath, "Why is he still here? What does he need to do to be expelled?"

He nearly did Pucey's face in when he saw him at breakfast. Talking to other students as if nothing happened the day before. Amelia was still in the hospital wing and he sat there eating breakfast. Everyone was totally oblivious.

"Collect yourself," Snape responded calmly, "Expulsion would need to run through the Ministry, and it was decided that it would bring bad press to the Tournament."

The wind got knocked out of Draco's lungs as he stared blankly at the stoic Potion Master. Surely the red he was seeing now was a mixture of everyone's blood who thought this is the best solution.

"Does the Ministry need to be reminded what he did?" he groaned, barely moving his lips. He, once again, felt positively murderous. "He assaulted her and would have raped her!" his voice raised as he fumed. Snape's face twitched barely noticeably at his words.

"Come inside, Malfoy," he said just as calmly and stepped aside to let Draco in. "Do you need Draught of Peace to have this conversation?" Snape eyed him up as he closed the door behind them.

Draco glared at him. What he needed is to see Pucey turned into pulp. He shook his head, swallowing the words.

"Very well. Albert Pucey, Mr Pucey's father, happens to be a generous supporter of the Tournament. It was not as much a disciplinary decision but rather a political one. No need to be worried, there will still be a punishment. But it won't be what you imagine, probably."

Draco scoffed, kicking the step leading to the desk, "What? A month of worth detention?"

"It still has to be decided. Ms Wood is safe now," Snape said with such a tone that made more than clear that the conversation was over.

Draco glanced at him, "Madame Pomfrey better have a bed ready for him. I won't be stopping Potter if he decides to have a go at him. And that is inevitable, as soon as he finds out Pucey will be wanted more than Golden Snitch."

"Is that a threat, Mr Malfoy?" Snape raised a brow at him.

"Not at all. Just stating facts… Professor," he nodded as he left.

He felt on edge ever since yesterday. The tiniest inconvenience was about to push him over the edge. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut as he passed the spot, where he saw her pushed up a wall. It felt like someone punched him into a stomach, dull pain and nauseating feeling. He regretted not landing a punch. It might have made him feel a bit better. But he was way too concerned with her that handling Pucey only came as an afterthought to him.

"Oi! Malfoy!" a familiar voice screamed after him as he reappeared from the dungeon. He sighed loudly as he turned around. Potter rushing towards him. Normally this would ruin his Sunday and he would have a handful of comments all ready to fire, but for the first time ever they might be on the same page here.

"Potter…"

"I have not seen Amelia since yesterday when she left the lunch abruptly… Greengrass refused to tell me anything. So, I figured…" Potter fumbled, visibly hating the fact he has to talk to him.

"Amelia is at the hospital wing since yesterday if you need to know," Draco uttered.

Harry's eyes widened as he blinked rapidly, "She is where?"

"Hospital wing, Potter. Clean your ears sometimes, will you?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Why? What happened?" Harry asked ignoring his comment and the annoying smirk that once again spread across Draco's face.

Draco smirked slightly as he noticed Pucey on a bench not too far from them. This may work out better than he imagined, and it may not cost Slytherin a single point.

"I can tell you that perfectly– "

"How come?"

"I was there. Keep your mouth shut for longer than 5 seconds and I might tell you," he quirked a brow at him, Harry groaned but stayed quiet, "This one git brewed more evil sister of Amortentia and fed it to Amelia. Almost literally setting her blood on fire and tried to force himself on her… Hey! I said one git. I wouldn't refer to myself as a git," he quipped as he ducked from Harry's fist. "Channel your anger in the right direction at least! It was Pucey, for Merlin's sake…"

"What role did you play in it?" Harry asked fuming still contemplating punching him.

"Found them, got him off of her, fetched Madame Pomfrey – you name it…" he started listing things, but Harry did not hover to hear him out and stormed off into Pucey's direction, "You are welcome Potter!" he hollered after him.

"You really enjoy stirring the pot, don't you?" Theo chuckled behind him as they watched Potter launching himself at Pucey in the courtyard. Pucey did not see it coming one bit and the other students around him rather took a step back.

"He had it coming and it won't cost us a point."

Draco finally walked into the hospital ward.

Potter landed few solid punches, but McGonagall came to save Pucey's ass way too early for his liking. And didn't even take points as far as he noticed. Overall disappointing experience for him.

"Mr Malfoy!" Madame Pomfrey said with surprise when she saw him at the door, "Didn't expect you back so soon." She pressed him a smile and walked away with an empty water pitcher.

A burst of muffled laughter echoed towards him from the ward. He recognized Amelia's giggle amongst it, the one or two other voices left him guessing. He took a deep breath and continued inside.

"Oh, Draco!" Amelia looked at him as he appeared from behind the privacy curtain.

The Weasleys of course, he fought the urge of rolling his eyes as he saw Fred and George sitting on either side of her bed. How did they know she's here was a mystery to him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after he cleared his throat. Amelia glanced at the chair with its backrest pressed up against the bed. Draco smirked, squeezing himself past one of the twins and sat astride on his chair. Pomfrey allowed him to stay by her side as long as he wanted so naturally, he has spent the whole night here, holding her hand, sleeping in the chair hunched over. Naturally.

"Much better. Like a phoenix, really," she chuckled. Draco groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose at the lame joke. She clearly is feeling much better. "But you look tense…" she noted, narrowing her eyes at Draco.

"I just watched Potter jump his ass but McGonagall was nearby. So call me disappointed," he shook his head, tugging the corners of his mouth ever so slightly higher. Amelia raised her brow at him, "Fine, I told him, but he asked. Either way, I wanted to see the prat bleed and this way I wouldn't risk our house points." Draco shrugged. Amelia shook her head disapprovingly, but the twins chuckled.

Gaining sympathies of the wrong party.

"He will surely be expelled anyway…" Fred muttered, placing his hand on what Draco assumed to be her shin. His face involuntarily twitched at the word expelled.

"Draco? Is he?" Amelia asked noticing the tension creeping back onto his face.

He sighed as he shook his head, "No. His father sponsors the Tournament. The Ministry won't approve it."

"THE MINISTRY WHAT?"