June 2010 - Present

Hermione was on her second glass of white wine for extra Dutch courage when the clock chimed seven that night. She took the deepest breath she could, calmed the nerves shooting through her like electric shocks and steeled herself for the reaction that was about to come.

Not that any of this was her fault.

But never-the-less, doing this with just the two of them needed to be done; it was a sensitive subject and having more people around them was just embarrassing.

So far, only Theo, Blaise and Luna were privy to their new situation… once everyone got wind of it, she was sure that all curious eyes would be on them at all times

She really did need to tear Theodore and Blaise new arseholes at some point.

She just hoped that Malfoy's reaction would not be as hideous as she was expecting.

Stepping into the grate, Hermione took some floo powder and recited the name of Malfoy's house.

She barely had time to recite the words'The Crooked Cottage, Bibury, The Cotswolds'before the air whooshed around her, lifting up the bottom of her coat and whipping her hair around her face as her feet left her living room floor for a few seconds.

And then she landed not moments later, her feet meeting cobbled stones in front of a small, wood burning fireplace with a wooden mantle that held nothing but a picture of a blonde haired, smiling couple with their arms wrapped lovingly around each other.

Malfoy never struck Hermione as the type to have pictures of his mother and Father on show for people to see.

She squinted, looking around the small but cosy room for a sign of the owner of the house. She was the only person currently in the room, with its low wooden ceiling beams and old-fashioned oak doors.

The room was dimly lit by a few candles placed here and there, only adding to the intimate feel of the room.

Hermione had been told about Malfoy's cottage.

Blaise had been more than a little in awe when he had first seen the building, apparently. A far cry from the comfortable luxury that the Malfoy family were used to.

There were no Maids, Butlers, House Elves or caterers under Malfoy's wing; just him on his own doing all his own furnishings and even decorating himself, too.

It was apparently his need to 'branch out' on his own and 'become his own man'. He moved out into a quiet, rural area of England where no one bothered him and seemingly lives a relatives peaceful life, choosing to come and go as he pleased.

'The Crooked Cottage', he had named the quaint little place. Hermione had yet to see anything other than the Living room, but she could only assume that the cottage would have a thatched roof and was probably made from sandstone.

He was very tidy.

Too tidy…

The OCD type of tidy.

Hermione was the absolute opposite. She could only assume that living with someone like Draco Malfoy would be a nightmare, especially when it came to keeping the place clean.

Hermione was shaken from her thoughts when she heard the large wooden door to her left click open. She knew it was Malfoy before she saw him; she felt him.

Those tingling sensations were now undeniable whenever she was within the same space as him. But still a far better feeling than the emptiness that ebbed its way through her system when he was nowhere near.

She feared that maybe that particular feeling would create some issues for her later on.

She just hoped she was wrong.

He was not currently helping the situation, though.

Malfoy was still in his work attire, minus his tie and waistcoat. His white collared shirt had the first three buttons undone and he looked like he had been running his hands through his hair.

He held a glass of brown liquid in his hand as he walked into the room, his eyes viewing her with a guarded look from his black framed glasses. The other hand was casually inside his pocket.

God, why was he so painfully tall?

He was certainly not making this any easier on her. She was now fully aware that she was probably covered in soot and her hair was all over the place and –

"Drink?" His voice did things to her.

Stupid bloody hormones and spells and potions and Theodore fucking Nott…

She nodded, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, and not meeting his gaze. What the fuck was wrong with her? Why was it impossible for her to look at him? Talk to him? She did both of these all the time with mostly no trouble. Now just the closeness of him was sending her bloody barmy.

A glass of white wine appeared on the oak coffee table just in front of her, two cubes of ice in the glass. Just how she liked it.

Hermione walked the few steps, stooped, and picked the glass up as delicately as she could.

"Now I've got the hospitality over and done with," Malfoy's voice was deep again and closer to her now as he stood just behind the back of his brown leather, chesterfield couch. "Would you care to tell me what the fuck is going on here?"

Hermione straightened her back, her shoulders going back, and she bit her lip slightly, wondering how best to approach the subject with him. He seemed in no mood for beating around the bush. But then, Draco Malfoy never seemed in the mood for pussyfooting around a subject.

Practicality.

Right.

That was how she needed to approach this mess.

When she finally had the courage to look him in the eye, she could not deny the feeling of weakness in her knees that she felt. God help her, she had never had that experience before when she looked at another human being. This whole situation was going to become insane rather quickly.

Malfoy shifted, his hand coming out of his trouser pocket and combing his fingers through his hair as he coughed, clearing his throat as his eyes studied her carefully.

Then his demeanour seemed to change a little, his edge giving way to something akin to struggle.

"Jesus Granger, what isthis?" His hand flexed between them, as if to explain what he meant.

And Hermione found herself suddenly unable to help the laugh that came from her.

It was nerves, she knew, but it still felt like a release of the pressure she now felt herself under to try and explain away a very strange situation that neither of them had gotten themselves in to.

"What does it feel like?" She asked him, trying not to grin at the frustrated look on his face.

"Like I'm swinging between the constant need to either strangle you or fu-" He stopped himself abruptly, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Just tell me there's a reason for this fucking madness because if not then I'm going senile and need to book myself a bed in St Mungo's."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "I'd take a padded cell in St Mungo's over any of this right now."

Malfoy gave her a look over his glasses. "Just hit me with it. I'm a big boy, I can take the damage."

She was wondering whether he actually could at that moment in time.

"It's a potion, apparently." Hermione folded her arms over her chest and gave him a look that told him that unfortunately, she was not lying. "I wanted to find some sort of antidote before you even found out," She gave a small sigh as he eyed her curiously now. "But I think this is older magic than I first thought."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and gave a small snort. "So, you slipped me some sort of love potion then?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Granger, if you wanted to jump my bones that badly, you only had to ask." And then that smirk was back on his lips. "I'd have turned you down graciously of course, but if you don't ask you don't get, am I right?"

She already wanted to throttle him.

See whether her fingers could fit around his neck.

He had a nice neck.

For a complete prick.

"The only liquid I would slip you is arsenic, Malfoy." She spat back, feeling her cheeks flaming. "And you wouldn't get the chance to turn me down, because I am pretty certain that I would never want to touch you with a ten-foot bloody barge pole."

How dare he be so … so … insufferable at a sensitive time like this. She thought the potion was supposed to make him feel as attracted to her as she was to him?Shit… did that mean that she was more attracted to him than he was to her?

He tutted at her, and she almost lost it.

"I'd only turn you down foryoursake Granger, not mine." He told her with a coy smile, cocking his head to one side and causing her to lose focus for a second. "You wouldn't know what a girl like you was getting yourself in to with someone like me."

She swallowed and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the way his eyes flitted from her eyes to her lips for a second. The way he spoke to her, the things he said. The way those words made her feel. It made controlling herself so much harder.

Shit… shit, shit, shit.

She had to tell him now.

Tell him or touch him before the sensations overtook him… overtook both of them and they did something very, very stupid.

Touch him…

Eugh… her currently unwanted libido was a little bitch.

"You don't mean any of this, Malfoy." She tried to tell him in a matter-of-fact tone as she shrugged off her coat and placed it over the arm of the Chesterfield. "The potion you took, – which I didnotslip you- activated once you turned thirty and were not married or in love -" She saw him give her a wide-eyed look.

"I beg your fucking pardon?" He asked her with a tone higher than usual.

Hermione continued, ignoring his plight. "- The potion manifests itself to create these fake feelings of…well-"

"Absolute sexual torment?" He asked on a breath.

"-Lust and sexualised, hormonal urges," She continued again, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach at his question. "They create the fake feelings for a type of bond to work properly, apparently. From what I've read, they only get stronger as this goes on."

"Are you telling me I've been dowsed with some sort of bonding-ritual potion?" he asked, sounding miffed.

"I suppose you could call it that, yes." She told him with a sigh. "I'm still looking into it."

He looked at her then, looking as if he was suddenly struggling with himself. She knew this was hard to take for him, but they were both being forced into this; it was hard for her to comprehend too and had not got any easier over the last few days either.

Malfoy took a large gulp of his drink, draining the glass from everything but the ice. "And can I find something to make these feelings stop?" He asked curiously. "Or at least dampen them down?"

Hermione could only shrug. "I'm already trying. I won't stop until I've found something."

Draco sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "Why would anyone want to do this tome-"

"You mean, why would anyone want to do this tous?" Her eyes looked into his and she watched him frown. He had obviously not realised that this went both ways.

His eyes widened upon realisation.

"You, too?" His hand went to his hair again and he took a step closer to her without realising.

"Fuck. I thought it was just me they'd poisoned, Granger…" And then his eyes gave her another curious look once over. "You don't even look affected."

She was the one to give a little snort this time.

"Then I am clearly a good actress." She told him with a small laugh, watching his eyes as he looked over her for any physical signs of the potions affects.

"Clearly." He was looking at her lips again.

"You're not giving anything away… I can't tell whether you're even remotely feeling any of this right now."

She was just glad he couldn't tell the way her heart was hammering inside of her chest at the thought of him wanting to know whether this was affecting her or not, like it somehow mattered to him.

And then the conversation shifted, like he remembered something.

"There's a way to physically control it at least though, yeah? You accidentally touched me earlier on this afternoon and-"

Hermione cleared her throat, ignoring the sensations that rippled through her at the look in his eyes and tugged at the sleeves of her navy shirt.

"Yes. Apparently touch can sate the sensations." She told him quickly. "I haven't quite figured out how long the contact needs to go on to stop the feelings… I'm still researching all of that, if I'm honest." She had a bad feeling that the longer this went on, the longer the touches would have to be, though…

"Oh, of course you are." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You're Hermione Granger, you probably get off over the idea of study time."

"Do you want my help, or do you want me to let you rot and fester away in your current hyper-sexual state?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow. Although truth be told, she loved nothing more than a good old bit of research.

Not that she would ever tell Malfoy that.

"Wouldn't exactly call itfestering, Granger."

That deep, dangerous voice was back. Another step closer to her. "Can't deny it doesn't feel nostalgic to have the hormonal imbalance of an eighteen-year-old again…" he sniggered slightly. "…although the raging erections at the drop of a hat have certainly not been missed."

Oh…God. She did not need to know that.

She really did not need to know that.

"Delightful." She screwed her nose up a little, trying her best to so distain.

He only chuckled at her.

The deep, rich sound of his laugh made her want to shiver.

"What's the matter Granger?" Yet another step closer. His aftershave hit her again and fuck, she suddenly felt helpless. "You not as in control of yourself as you think you are?"

"I am perfectly fine." She managed to grind out, gritting her teeth and meeting his eyes head on. "I would just like to find an antidote to this – thisthing, sooner rather than later, before-"

"Before what?" He asked, a curious edge to his tone now.

She took another deep breath, bracing herself for having to explain further.

"The potion we were both given is some sort of binding spell, used with old magic." Hermione watched his expression starting to change.

"There seems to be a sort of emptiness when we're apart…and a hormonal attraction of some kind when we are in close proximity, from what I can gather, anyway."

Malfoy was silent for a minute, rubbing his chin. "You've felt that emptiness in the pit of your stomach too, then?" She could tell he was thinking carefully. "It's like a stomach ache, only dulled? Like you're empty and missing something?"

Yes.

Yes, that was exactly what it was like.

"And the hormonal attraction-" She began as tentatively as she could. "- Is like everything is heightened and all you can feel is the other person."

"You feel me, Granger?" Low tone. Low, dangerous tone.

She ignored him, trying to go on. "I have the book." She let out a breath and revealed the book; having kept it concealed with a shrinking charm within the pocket of her pants. "I need to study it closely and find out whether anything can be rectified – we need to stop this before it gets worse."

"Worse?"

"Yes."

"Fuck…" he gave her a dark look. "Not possible."

Hermione shook her head.

"Afraid it is." She opened the book to the correct page and revealed the page she needed, stepping in a little closer as Malfoy came around to her side to view the pages she was looking at. "The longer this goes on, the stronger the – er…urges, get."

His shoulder was so close to hers. She could feel his breath tickling her, making her hair move. She took a steadying breath. It wasn't fair to feel all of these feelings at once for someone who infuriated you so fucking much.

"You geturges, Granger?" It was almost like a whisper in her ear. She shivered and she knew he saw it. "Anything you'd like to share?"

"No." She blurted out before she could stop herself, feeling her cheeks flame. "A lady never tells." She then added matter of factly.

"Pity." He breathed again, and she felt the need to cross her legs and hold her breath to control herself. "cause I'd love to know what the golden girl thinks about to turn herself on… besides a well organised Dewey Decimal System."

Oh…he was a fucking nightmare.

"Piss off, Malfoy." She answered back, shooting him a side-on glare. "And you wonder why we can never have a serious conversation when you're constantly winding me up."

She felt him shrug casually next to her.

"We converse just fine, I'd say." His fingers grazed the page in front of them that she had even forgot they were supposed to be looking at. "I bate you, you call me a massive bell- end, which causes me to bate you further…and then round and round we go until-"

"Until what?" She goaded, only no noticing how long and elegant his fingers were.

"Until one of us snaps."

And she winced slightly when Malfoy clicked those long, elegant fingers sharply at the word 'snaps', took the book from her and buried his nose inside the pages.

She fiddled with her hands, feeling herself getting more anxious by the second at Malfoy's silence next to her while he read started to make her feel slightly nauseous.

"Bollocks." She heard him mutter. There was a huff and a groan and he took a few steps back from her. "Absolute bollocks." She glanced over at him, seeing his eyebrows raised into his forehead as his eyes skimmed along the bottom of the page. "For fucks sake-" he looked up at her, eyes full of fear of the unknown. "Who the fuck would do something like this to us?"

Hermione only stared at him.

"Do you know anyone in particular who could fuck something up so badly without meaning to?"

She watched Malfoy's face become expressionless.

"TheodorefuckingNott."

Oh… dear.

"They just wanted to watch people get drunk, apparently." Why was she even defending them? They were still in her bad books, too.

Malfoy's eye twitched.

"BlaisefuckingZabini."

"End of eighth year party." Hermione told him in a quiet voice. "They used the potion in the book, not realising it was the wrong one."

"Absolute gobshites-" Malfoy muttered quietly under his breath, a fist clenching at his side.

"It was supposed to be Pansy and Neville, apparently." Hermione cut in.

"-Pair of arseholes-"

"Theodore's been quite neurotic over the whole thing for the last eleven years-" Hermione laughed lightly to herself, remembering the hysteria of him explaining himself to her. "-why do you think he's tried to set us up on so many awful dates?"

"-string them up by their bollocks-"

"Luna said something about thread." Hermione was trying to get through his angry haze. "She's been seeing it for a while on and off, apparently… always wondered what it was."

"Thread?" This seemed to bring him out of it.

Hermione nodded. "Something to do with the bond, I assume. Some sort of invisible thread that-" she could feel herself blushing. "Well, it seems to be attached to both of us and- well, Luna can see it."

She watched Malfoy's eyes widen in alarm.

"Luna Lovegood can see a fucking thread?" Both of his hands were in his hair now. "Fuck– Granger –is- did she say anything else?" why did he suddenly look so frantic?

She watched him hold up the potions book, scrutinizing the cover carefully. He looked back up at her.

"Did you get this from the Manor library?"

Well yes, she had… but what did that matter?

She had accioed it and swiped it before she had left on Friday night. She was positive that it would not be missed… after all, the Malfoy Manor library was extensive.

She gave a small nod and bit her lip.

Malfoy groaned and rubbed his head. "I need to see my father."

Now Hermione was the anxious one.

What had suddenly sobered him up and made his response be so urgent? And what did Lucius Malfoy have to do with this?

"What's wrong now?" She asked, trying to dig for information without sounding too obvious.

"If we're going to work this out, we need to be open about what we are researching and investigating."

Malfoy gave her a sudden serious look, and it stopped her in her tracks.

"This bit just needs leaving to me for now, Granger." And then his look softened slightly, like he did not want to offend her. "You just concentrate on finding out if there are any potions that we can take that will dull these –sensations– we're experiencing." The book was put safely un the crook underneath his arm. "Leave this side of things to me – and just hope that I'm not right about this, or we're fucked." His body language looked agitated and on edge.

"Malf-"

"Just let me check my fact first, Granger." His tone sounded final.

She wanted to argue with him and tell him to explain himself, but she knew that there was no getting through to him when he was like this. He was a bloody brick wall when it came to hiding things, he always had been.

Instead, she simply huffed and made a face

"Fine." She bit out.

"I am going to castrate those two dickheads-"

"-You keep your secrets." She huffed.

"Tell Theodore I'm owling the local Morgue in the morning to collect his body-"

"I'll try and find some sort of relaxant or anti-stimulant to stop the…" she doubted he was even listening to her now.

"-Be finding that nobhead's body parts all over the County of Gloucestershire for fucking months-"

"… feelings." She finished and then watched him raise an eyebrow at her at the last word she had used.

"Feelings?" He gave a small laugh and shook his head. "That's what you call these bloody polar episodes we appear to be having, then?"

She chose to ignore him.

"And if I am not able to find something to help us, then I am sure a few practical handshakes could help in the meantime."

Her heart suddenly jumped into her throat.

The look he gave her as he stood in front of her was one that she could no place. She did not think she had ever seen it before.

It was raw and hot and full of danger.

"It's going to take more than a fucking handshake to cure theseurgesI have, Granger." His eyes were fiery, and it made her mouth dry. "A lot fucking more."

And God fucking help her … she knew he was right.

Unfortunately, it was only once she had returned to her home and then made her way to bed not long after Malfoy had excused himself to look at the book in further detail, that Hermione realised that they had still not touched each other properly this evening.

Neither of them had even thought about it, especially after Malfoy's outburst of needing to see his father urgently.

So, as she tried to sleep with the mixture of emptiness and the tingle of arousal at the thought of those slate grey eyes looking at her so dangerously, she found that succumbing to dreams was rather impossible that night.

She just hoped that when tomorrow came, they would have more answers for each other.

Before Theo and Blaise ended up in a shallow grave with numerous body parts missing.