June 2010 – Present Day

At roughly 10.15pm that same night, Draco appeared with a whoosh in the extravagant dining room fireplace of his childhood home.

The lamps were lit, the fire was roaring, and the faint sounds of his father's favourite muggle Opera singer echoed around the walls of the room in a wail of emotion.

Draco knew exactly where he would be.

He always sat in the same place until he went to bed. Lucius Malfoy was a creature of habit lately, everything done exactly to his own timekeeping. Including the anti-clockwise stir of the sweet tea he was currently sipping at the top chair of the long dining room table.

His father did not even bother to look up at him as he approached, opting instead to scower the pages of 'The Prophet'casually instead.

"Says here that Millie Dowdridge from International relations is marrying that Muggle from Tintagel." Draco heard him mumble as he approached the top of the table purposefully, watching as his father blew into the quaint tea cup of hot liquid before taking another small sip. "Lovely couple. I've met him twice, you know." He pushed his half-moon spectacles further up his nose – he had always secretly been jealous of the pair that old Dumbledore had – as he viewed the moving picture of the happy couple. "Has a rather strange fixation with bird-watching, though."

Draco stopped, finally reaching his father at the top of the table.

"The feathery kind?" he raised an eyebrow. "Or the kind that gives you nothing but grief?"

Lucius gave a small snort and turned over his newspaper.

"He's not you, Draco. Not every man has the ability to repel women as well as you clearly do." His eyes never leaving the pages, his eyes lit up. "Oh look, another of your Slytherin Alumni have announced they are having children-"

Draco sighed heavily and pulled out a heavy stained oak chair, shaking his head as he sat himself down. "Does every conversation we have, have to centre around Marriage and sex?"

Lucius tutted, glancing up from The Prophet to his son for a second over the top of his glasses. "There you go again, thinking with nothing but your nether regions." He sniffed indignantly and took another sip of tea. "I was merely pointing out facts-"

"Ohyes," Draco scoffed. "Because The Prophet isfullof those."

"You are a thirty-year-old man, Draco." His father pointed out, like it was not the most obvious thing in the world. "If you don't start getting a move on and finally settle yourself down, your swimmers will need Zimmer frames to help them along." Draco hated that Lucius was so matter of fact. Not that he was not used to it.

This was now a painfully normal topic of conversation for him. He had gotten used to it from both his mother and father over the past few years. He was just thankful that this time he had not managed to mention –

"How's Miss Granger?"

Draco groaned, knowing that this had been coming. It always did, in one way or another. Whether his father was just asking about her wellbeing, or whether he was trying to meddle and matchmake, praising the girl to high heaven.

Draco had realised over the course of the last few years that Lucius Malfoy loved to meddle. Meddling actually seemed to be something that he exceeded at, much to Draco's dismay.

Luckily though, this particular visitdidinvolve Granger. Unluckily for his father, he had a fair bit of explaining to do.

Draco fixed Lucius with an interrogative look and un-shrunkthebook in question that had caused so much bother, putting it onto the table right in front of his old man. "Why don'tyoutellmehow she is."

It was only for a fraction of a second, but Draco watched Lucius falter. And then the walls went back up as his eyes went from the book and back to his Newspaper as he cleared his throat.

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean, Draco."

"Father…"

Another sniff and casual turn of his newspaper. "Whatever you are insinuating, I can assure you-"

"Father…" More pressing this time, pushing the book right under his nose.

"- Cannot fathom what you could possibly think I would have to do with any-"

Draco shook his head and opened the page of the book that was most important. "If you refuse to co-operate, then I'll go straight to our family healer in the morning and explain why I would like to put myself forward for an early vescetom-"

Lucius finally looked up, giving his son a sharp glance. "You would notdare-"

"Oh, Idodare. Tell me how this particular book -" Lucius went to cut in, but Draco knew exactly what his father was about to say and pointed a warning finger at him. "- and I know it is a book fromourlibrary, because Grandmother Druella mentioned it once or twice in passing as I sat in our study –" Lucius closed his mouth with a huff. "- got into the hands of two of my idiot friendswhilstthey were in Hogwarts."

There was a few moments of silence as both men looked at each other. Draco could see the cogs working in his father's head, trying to think of a way out of the situation. But he knew that there was none because Draco had already guessed exactlyhowthe whole situation had come about in the first place.

There was a heavy sigh from Lucius, before he sat back in his chair, fiddling with his thumbs on the table in front of him.

"It was harmless." He shrugged casually. "You popped over with them for your birthday one weekend that year and they mentioned they wanted to find a potion to – er –lightenthe mood for the end of year party." Lucius held up his tea cup and adverted his eyes. "I may have lead them to a book I was familiar with in Hogwarts library."

"And how didthisbook end up in Hogwart's library?" Draco pushed the book further into Lucius' eyesight. "Because as far as I was aware, there was only one copy of it."

Lucius still refused to give eye contact, looking anywhere but at Draco. "There are ways of making copies Draco, surely you must know that? What did they teach you at that School?"

Draco took a deep, steadying breath.

God, give me fucking strength…

"Father-"

"Fine." Another huff in resignation. "I copied the book and got Mr Zabini to slip it in amongst the restricted section in the library." Another sniff at being interrogated. "It was harmless-"

Draco shook his head, pointing his finger again. "Oh, no you don't," Draco prodded him in the arm to get the truth. "You knew that the pages of this book changed – you knew there was a chance that those two fuckwits might end up brewing up an entirely different kind of potion."

Lucius gave his son the most seemingly innocent expression he could muster. "Why Draco, I am offended-"

"You knew they might end up making that bloody bonding spell." Draco saw the light dance in his father's eyes for a second. "I caught Grandmother Druella taking the book from Aunt Bella one day, telling her the spell was potentially dangerous-"

"I have no idea-"

"If the threads cannot be seen, then attraction there has never been." Draco recited, remembering the warning that his grandmother had given.

Draco was not used to his Grandmother being so forceful. Bella had thrown a strop but had given the book back to Druella and it was never mentioned again.

Draco watched his father lean forwards, taking his first few glances at the page that his son had put out for him. "Oh, would you look at that –" His tone sounded casual. "An old bonding spell that causes feelings of attraction that could result in Marriage-" He gave Draco another innocent glance. "Well,fancythat."

Draco glared at the older Malfoy. "You were fully aware that the pages of this book change. You were fully aware that those two dipshit friends of mine would either end up making an alcoholic brew or a sacred bonding potion that could potentially bond two people together for life."

Lucius eyed his son carefully. "And which one did they end up making?" He asked casually.

Draco gave him a look. "Would I be here this late at night just to complain about a fucking hangover that I had eleven years ago by two complete bell ends?"

Suddenly, Lucius' whole demeanour changed. He looked positively gleeful, grabbing the book and pouring over the text whilst rubbing his hands together.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Draco ground out, not being able to hide his annoyance. "You knew there was a chance that those two tits would make the wrong potion and potentially give it to me – you set this whole thing up to make sure-"

"-that the Malfoy line continued?" Lucius eyed him again, giving him a pointed look. "I was fully aware that you had made your way through half of the female population of the school by the time you were leaving, Draco."

The older man shook his head. "I was worried you would get a taste for the Batchelor lifestyle and never want to carry on the Malfoy name."

"I was dating Parkinson on and off for years." Draco told him matter of factly. "We were almost engaged, if you recall."

"Pish-tosh." His father wafted the air as if the information offended him. "That was child's play. You needed someone to keep you grounded, son." Lucius eyed him with suspicion. "You still do. Who's the lucky lady, then?"

Oh,shit…

There was no getting away from this. The old man was going to find out sooner or later. Draco just hoped he didn't keel over and die of excitement when he was given the news.

Draco closed his eyes for a second to control himself.

Since Granger had left him earlier, he had realised that there had been no physical contact between them, and it was starting to show.

He had wondered whether they had made it worse by touching in the first place, as that first calming hit had shot through his nervous system and brought about sensations that he did not think he had ever experienced before … and he wanted to experience it again.

Just being in her presence earlier had set off a chemical reaction in his brain to want to get closer to her. He wanted to feel her and look at her and be near her.

The smell of her perfume intoxicated the space between them, and even in the dim light of his Living room he could see the colours dancing in her eyes. It was getting stronger by the day – he did not know what he would actually do if it got any worse.

Stepping behind her in her office this afternoon had been bad enough. The sensations filled his senses. Touch, taste,take, feel… just beclose.

As he had gotten closer to her, he could feel himself dying to reach out and touch her. Be as close to her as possible. It almost drove him to distraction when he looked down and saw her wearing that pencil skirt.

The one that showed off her toned legs and her pert arse. Seeing her in that skirt gave him visions of throwing her down onto her desk and –fuck.

This was Granger. It was him and it was Granger and they needed to fight this, for both of their sanities.

This was absurd – neither of them hadthiskind of attraction to each other before this all began, surely? He knew he had the tell tale signs of a crush, but that was all this was… a silly little crush that would go away in time.

And yet, when she had appeared by floo network and slowly explained the situation to him, it was like he knew it made sense.

That things they were feeling and experiencing were just… right, even though he knew they were very, very wrong. Like they were both heading towards something; being pulled in the same direction together. Draco was not stupid. He was fully aware that those feelings were the work of the potion… but it felt right to follow them.

"Well?" His father sounded eager.

Too eager.

Draco shifted in his seat, now seemingly the one that appeared uncomfortable.

"Who do you think?" He answered, his eyes anywhere but on his father.

"Well, it won't be the Parkinson girl because she's withRonald–" Draco knew by the tone of Lucius' voice that he had made a face. "- tell that big-mouthed menace that I'm sure that hug he gave your mother verges on assault, by the way-" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Little Millicent Bulstrode got engaged six months ago, so it won't be her-"

Draco raised an eyebrow and finally looked up. "LittleMillicent Bulstrode? She'd knock out half of the Holyhead Harpies with one punch."

"I was being polite, Draco." Lucius tutted. "Might do you well to try it some time. You never know, it might make your future wife detest you less."

"She can't detest me more than she already does." He mumbled to himself without thinking.

Lucius observed his son for a second. "Oh fantastic, so she's already aware of yourstellar,winningpersonality, then?" He said in a deadpan tone. He rolled his eyes. "This will be a doddle then, quite obviously."

"She is more than aware that I am a sarcastic, ignorant, painfully stubborn and at times, complete arsehole, yes father." Draco replied with a sigh, sitting back in the chair now with his arms folded across his chest. "And I am sure that just the thought of ever having to Marry me just to sate this bond will send chills of terror running down her spine."

"She must know you very well, then." And he eyed his son cautiously, itching his chin with his fingers. "Do I know her?"

At this, Draco gave himthelook. It wasthelook that said it all. It was the look that told the old man next to him everything he needed to know.

And the shit-eating grin that erupted on his features was all Draco needed to know that his father had finally clicked on.

"Absolutely bloody marvellous!" He sang out, sitting right back in his chair and laughing out loud. "Fan-bloody-tastic!" Another small giggle to himself. "Oh, the genetic traits my Grandchildren will inherit-"

"Father…"

"Blonde curls, Draco –" He whispered almost excitedly, tittering to himself. "Blonde curls! We'll be the envy of every other Pureblood family for miles!"

"Calm down –" Draco told him, exasperated with the reaction from the older man. "Me and Granger aren't – we're not-"

"And she's Muggle born –" Lucius appeared to be getting carried away with himself. "- they like to breed- good genetics for big families –"

"Oh my days –" Draco groaned.

"Twins!" His father bellowed, rubbing his hands together as Draco heard the Dining room door creak open.

"Mother, save him from himself, please." Draco put his head in his hands and shook his head. "He's gone mental."

"He wentdo-lallyyears ago Draco, this is not news to me." Narcissa swept into the room in her feather collared and cuffed night gown to pat her Husband earnestly on the shoulder.

"What on Earth did you say to him to make him like this?"

Draco shrugged. "Oh, you know, nothing much. Just the small matter of Nott and Zabini using theNexum Semperpotion back in Eighth year to bond myself and Granger together if neither of us were married or in love before we were thirty."

Narcissa eyed her son. "Oh, is that all?" And she gave her son the smallest grin. "He started talking about Grandchildren, didn't he?"

Draco nodded and sighed.

"-bouncing on my knee-" Lucius cut in, laughing again.

"You're off your rocker, father."

"-I've got large thighs… could fit at least three at a time-"

"Yes, yes, dear…" Narcissa shook her head with another small grin. "Whatever you say."

"Don't suppose this is the sort of bond that can be undone by any chance?" Draco asked hopelessly. He already knew the answer, but it helped to at least try. "Maybe if we loathe each other enough, there's no point in being matched together?"

Narcissa gave him a knowing look.

"Has the thread been seen by anyone?" She asked. "What I know of the potions spell,Seers– or potential ones – are able to see the thread before the potion has even taken effect by the time the drinkers of the potion are even turned thirty."

Draco closed his eyes and gave another massive sigh. "Luna Lovegood. She's seen it, apparently."

"Then you know my answer, Draco." His mother sounded slightly saddened for him. "If there was no connection there in the first place, then there would be not thread to be seen. Your Grandmother was always the best one to ask about these things."

"Old bat had her uses." Lucius mumbled, earning a small smack around the back of his head from his Wife.

"And I take it the attraction will only get worse until we – er-" Ah,shit. This was not something he needed to talk about in front of his parents. "Give in?"

Both his mother and father were giving him very coy smiles.

It unsettled him greatly.

"The ultimate goal of this type of bond is Marriage and then in time children, Draco." He could tell that his mother was choosing her words carefully. "I think you'll find that the sensations of attraction may die away slightly if you become legally wed."

"But we're in a new age, Draco." Lucius added in. "Children often come before Marriage these-"

"For the love of God, I am not having children with Granger." Draco groaned. "It's not what she wants and it's not what I want and half the time we can barely manage to be in the same room together without her wanting to throttle me and me wanting to strangle her."

"Well, you did want to see her dead a decade ago, so I would consider strangulation a vast improvement." His father sounded far too upbeat for his liking.

"Just take into consideration that the longer this goes on, the harder it will be to ignore, Draco." And his mother's tone sounded far more serious now as she looked at him. "There are diaries and other books accounting for the fact that couples who where bonded together in the past and refused to marry or become intimate in any way often ended up being driven insane –" Draco swallowed, listening to his mothers words. "A few accounts detailed those people eventually being unable to cope with the sensations that the bond had caused and they –"

"Shit." Draco whispered.

"Shit, indeed." His father agreed.

"Talk to Hermione properly, Draco. Explain exactly what you know to her and see what you can both agree to." His mother came round to him now, patting him on the shoulder. "She is a clever Witch-"

"-great genetics-"

Draco and Narcissa both rolled their eyes, ignoring the man at the top of the table.

"-she is a clever Witch with a practical mind." A squeeze of his shoulder as he sat in his seat. "I have every faith in you both making the right decisions."

"Don't bugger this up, Draco." His father told him from behind his mother. "I'll never forgive you if our family gene pool is not blessed with unruly manes."

"Oh, for fucks sake-"

"Perms just will not suffice, I am afraid." Lucius gave him a grin. "I already tried that look in the 80's – gave David Bowie a run for his money."

"I quite liked theGoblin Kinglook." Draco watched Narcissa give his father a hot look.

"Don't." He moaned, throwing back his chair and quickly making his way to the fireplace before his parents went any further. "I don't need the mental imagery of any of this, thank you."

"Think you still have those lycra pants in one of the cupboards-"

"Disgusting. Good night!" Draco shouted as loudly as he could to block out the sounds of the kissing noises that he had started to hear as he threw the floo powder down at the ground so fast that the network literally catapulted him back to his own home.

Draco felt like he had brain fog the next morning.

He had taken the day off just to set his head straight, but what he had not banked on was that empty feeling settling like lead within the pit of his stomach. It swirled around, making him feel like he was sea sick.

It obvious stood true to reason that if the feelings of insatiability would increase when himself and Granger were together, then the feelings of emptiness and almost nausea would also increase when they were apart.

Draco did not know which was worse.

But by Dinnertime, he was starting to think that he would take any amount of sexual distraction over the feeling of her stomach being turned upside down just by not seeing Granger for just over twelve hours. And it was supposed to getworsethan this?

Obviously, the idea of the bond was to make the couple Marry and then ultimately produce offspring to keep the pureblood line going – this was a bond made for two people whoknewthat they were betrothed, and just needed a little help with their sexual attraction along the way.

Draco could only assume that if the thread was never seen, then that was the only way that any sort of spell could be rectified.

But therewasa thread.

Lovegood had seen it already. So… did that mean… what the fuck did that mean, exactly? That there was a mutual attraction? Well… yes.

There had to be something there, didn't there?

Draco managed to get out of his bed and made his way downstairs, not being able to face eating any food. He could not last the day like this, and he knew it. If he felt this bad, he could only wonder what Granger was –

The familiar sound of feet shuffling at the grate of the fire alerted Draco to the presence of someone in his house. More than one set of shoes. With keen ears, he thought he could hear at least two.

Carefully, he rounded the corner of the kitchen door, managing to see three cloaks as he peered into his living room.

They looked at him as he stood there halfway into his kitchen.

He looked at them. Or more to the point,her. He already knew she was here; the feeling in the pit of his stomach had already started to change as soon as she had put her feet onto his floor. Now all he felt was hot and bothered, like someone had been running their hands through his hair and leaving casual touches across his body.

"Alright, mate?"

The meek and small voice of Theodore Nott.

Draco fixed him with a glare.

"Before you get angry-" Blaise cut in bravely, making Draco's eyes burn in his direction instead. "-we had absolutely no idea that we had made the wrong potion –"

"Iswear-" Draco began, taking a step closer to them.

"-And it wasn't even meant for you –" Blaise continued.

"Oh, but it's okay formeto drink it?" Hermione's voice was shrill again.

"It wasn't meant for you either, to be fair –"

Theodore said rather pointedly, still hiding behind her back.

"I could fucking murder the pair of you –" Draco ground out. Another step closer.

"But you won't, because you're a sane

man and you're aware that a little stint in Azkaban won't do you or this situation any good –"

"Probably drive you insane, if I'm being honest –" Hermione hit Theo on the shoulder and hissed at him to stop talking.

"It would make me feel better right now, though." Draco breathed out, watching Blaise carefully.

"Can we just talk about this like normal, rational people instead of using threats that could lead to probable law suits?" Hermione asked stepping forwards so that she was no between Draco and Blaise.

The smell of her.Fuck. It evaporated the anger inside of him and only left…well- something that he did not want to admit to himself. And she was looking at him, biting her lip nervously because he knew he was looking at her strangely.

She probably hated the way he looked at her, but it was not something that he could help; it was an instinct.

Draco felt his shoulders sag. Something inside him felt like it was saying 'anything for you, Granger'.

At this change in his stance, she immediately took the turn to try and resolve the situation.

Hermione pointed at Blaise and Theo. "Yes, you two have been absolute pricks for both doing the potion, and for never telling us about it."

Blaise went to protest.

"Button it, Zabini." Hermione gave him a sharp look.

Draco snorted, but she shot flames at him too.

"You," Now she was pointing at him. "Did not care to tell me what you knew about that bloody book, but I am not leaving until you, have told me everything. I refuse to be left out of the loop."

Well, shit.

"You-" Theodore winced at her as she then rounded on him. "-are going to help me brew up a potion that will help sate these feelings of –" She glanced at Draco uncomfortably for a second. "Attraction."

Her finger then pointed at Blaise, who took a small step back from her. "Andyouand Theodore are both going to apologise profusely to both myself and Malfoyandbuy our dinners every day and drinks at the pub every Friday for the foreseeable future."

Draco stalled at that.

Free drinks for the foreseeable? Sounded fair.

Free drinks for the foreseeable for being magically bonded to a woman that was either going to kill him through stress or enjoy making him miserable for the rest of his life? What the fuck was his life?

"We've said it before, and we'll keep saying it until you both forgive us." Theo implored quite dramatically. "We're sorry, we didn't mean for it to happen and if we could take it back then we would."

"I wouldn't." Blaise said flatly.

Both Hermione and Draco looked at him with eyes ablaze. Theo moaned and asked him why he was being such a twat.

"Come again?" Draco asked him a challenging tone

And to everyone's surprise, Blaise gave Draco a smirk.

"Remember that bet we made in fifth year, mate?" Blaise raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at his friend, causing Draco to frown.

"What bet?"

"Blaise, now is not the time for nostalgic interludes –"

"Remember that little wager we made after downing that bottle of fire whisky between you, me and that tosser over there?" Blaise was searching Draco, trying to make him remember while he pointed towards Theodore who was loitering in the corner, trying to ignore the conversation.

He remembered the day. He could remember the fire whisky vividly and the little cupboard that they all sat in just to the side of the Slytherin common room's opening. But the bet –

It hit him like a tonne of bricks.

Shit… that wager. He swallowed and looked down at the ground, rubbing his forehead and trying not to make eye contact. He had forgotten all about that little bet.

"I don't see what that has to do with –" Draco started.

"You won." Blaise told him with a sure smirk. "You've won the bet."

Draco felt his heartbeat pick up. No. No, he hadn't won the bet, had he? No. Well, not yet anyway. Not that he ever thought he would actually still be in with a chance. At the time, he was more than certain thatanyoneother than him would ever be in with a chance.

Damn Blaise and his ability to turn a situation around to wriggle himself out of a hole that he had dug for himself.

"What bet?" Granger asked, stamping her foot. "More secrets that I am being kept in the dark about, I assume?"

Draco threw her a small smile. "You won't want to know this one, believe me." And he threw a pointed look in Blaise's direction. "You're still a cunt."

"Noted." Blaise said with a nod. "But you don't want to castrate me anymore?"

Draco thought on it for a second. "Depends. Do you plan on revealing anymore secret Marriage bonding spell's that you've been keeping for over a decade?"

"No." Blaise told him flatly.

"Then no."

"What about me?" Theo asked from the corner, biting his thumbnail again.

"I always want to castrate you." Draco told him in a deadpan tone, before flopping onto the couch behind him. "Today is no different."

"Prick." Theo goaded back in a huff. "Always forgive Zabini and I'm left to sweat it out for days on end –"

"You're personally buying me my drinks every weekend for at least a year, mate." Draco told him with a small grin. "And I now drink doubles."

"Massive prick." Theo cursed under his breath.

"So, are you boy's friends now, then?" Hermione asked him sarcastically. "Kissed and made up? We can get on with this business without throwing our rattles out of our prams?"

She glanced down at Draco. "We need to talk and these two need to go back to work from their dinner break and cover for us –" She gave both men a sharp look. "It is the least that they can both do."

Draco swallowed.

Being alone in a room with Hermione Granger right now was not something that he thought he would be able to handle very well at all. But she looked like she meant business, and he knew that this was a completely unavoidable conversation.

"Yes, I did a little research and found that out for myself, too." She was pacing, trying to think of something to do with herself to stop herself from looking at him. "This is old magic that goes back centuries; very popular amongst the pureblood communities to make sure that the lines are continued, if I'm not wrong." She felt anxious and hot and itchy. She felt on edge as the tension in the roomed seemed to mount as soon as they were left alone.

Malfoy was still sat on the couch, arm over his face.

"Yeah, something like that." He droned quietly, his body twitching every now and again like he was fighting something. "My Mother told me that once the thread had been seen, there was no undoing what had been done."

"Yes, I read that too." She stopped to tap her foot for a second.

"That's very annoying." Malfoy's other hand gestured towards the floor at her feet.

"I know."

"Then stop it." His voice was dark.

Hermione gave a small smirk to herself.

"No." She never liked to be told what to do.

So far, she seemed like the only one that was on edge now that they were alone. She was fidgeting far too much and anxious andGod, did she just want to reach out and touch any part of his body that she could.

Her fingertips were practically tingling in anticipation, like they knew that he was the cure to the heat that she was feeling.

It did not help that he was splayed out the way he was, the length of his body on full view. The shape of his thighs as his grey jogging bottoms clung to his legs. The way that T-Shirt clung to his torso and his upper arms. How mussed his hair was from running his hands through them previously.

But no, she would just continue to ignore it, because there was no way that she was going to ask Draco Malfoy if she could put her hands on his body. It was a mortifying thought.

"So, this is it then?" He said with a frustrated sigh and his body went slightly more rigid. "We have to resign ourselves to the fact that we've been tied into a centuries old Marriage act against our will?"

"We'll fight it as long as we can." She told him as she swallowed, wanting to sound more confident than she actually felt. There had to be something to reverse it, there just had to be. "Fight the feelings."

"How's that going for you so far?" His voice was low but sarcastic as he spoke and he shifted on the couch a little moving his hips slightly.

"Just fine." She lied, trying to find that stiff upper lip that she often used.

"Yeah… course you are." He gave a little snort.

"And how did you get on with finding some sort of sedative?" He asked her, still sitting casually on the couch, not looking at her with his arm draped over to hide his face.

Hermione brightened at this. "Oh, I did find something actually!" At this, she saw Malfoy shift a little, starting to lower his arm. "It takes a week to brew, but it gives the effect of a relaxant – which I think should help to block out some of the er- strongerfeelings."

Malfoy groaned. "Strongerfeelings." He mumbled into his arm. "A fucking week more ofstrongerfeelings."

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently again.

"Stop doing that." He ordered.

"Take your arm away from your face and I will." She told him bluntly, looking down at his overly large, broad frame hanging off the couch.

"Some people find it rude to speak without eye contact, did you know that?"

"Granger…" his tone was a warning.

She huffed, ignoring him. "Well, it is. I find it rude when someone doesn't give me eye contact when I'm speaking to them."

And then it happened in a whirl of movement.

Draco moved himself from the couch and moved quickly towards her, only giving her time to back herself up to the mantle above the little fireplace, her shoulder blades meeting the hard wood.

His eyes were on fire when they looked on her, between her own eyes and her mouth. Every part of her face that he could trace with those dark, gunmetal orbs.

His frame was inches from hers, both hands settling on either side of her upper arms as he grasped hold of the mantle behind her. His head was bent, his forehead almost touching hers. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, and when he finally spoke, it was in a gravelly whisper.

"I don't know about you, but I find it hard to give eye contact to someone when I'm trying my best not to imagine what it would be like to –" He closed his eyes for a second and she saw the muscles in his arms flex on either side of her. Watched his jaw twitch, before his eyes were back on her lips again. "I don't have much control left. Don't make me try to do things that will make me lose the little that I do still have. "

Hermione drew in a breath, her chest moving out to feel it brush against the cotton of the white T-shirt he was wearing as a pyjama top. She often wondered how muscular he would be without a shirt, considering how broad he was and how thick his shoulders looked. He smelledso fucking good.

He was stooped a little lower, his height causing him to lean down to view her. She could feel the heat of him through her clothes. She knew he was just as on fire as she felt. She itched to reach out and touch him … just one touch … something –

"Granger," His voice was almost a whisper, swiping past her earlobe as his lips made their way to almost brush themselves past her jaw and to her sensitive lobe. "I have never touched a woman without permission, and I am not about to start now." His words ghosted along her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt. "But I need something –anything-"

She knew the feeling well. She felt it too. It was clawing at her to get out, to make a move. Something – anything. "-It almost fuckinghurts." And then his eyes looked right into hers, and she saw the painful pleasure hidden there. "Do you feel that, too?"

She made no sound. She just looked into his eyes, before deciding what she needed to do. For him. For both of them.

Slowly, closing her eyes and leaning forwards, her forehead connected with his.

There was a sigh and an intake of breath, she was not sure which of them made what sound. But the rush of calm washed over her instantly, like a cool shower on a hot day.

Foreheads still connected together, and eyes still closed; she felt a hand on her hip. It was tentative and light, like he was silently asking permission to hold her tighter. She gave no sound, just a small nod against his forehead in acknowledgement of what he was asking.

And then a large, warm hand was gripping her hip bone with slender fingers, bringing her body just that little bit closer to his. Their bodies were skimming together, the only sound between them was the that of their harsh breathing as they enjoyed the calming effect of each other's touch on their skin… on their emotions.

Hermione was not sure how long they stood like that; two, maybe three minutes. Just feeling each other moving slightly and enjoying the peace. Knowing that his nose and his lips were just mere centimetres away. This was not something that she should be thinking about. She should not care about this. She should not care about what he feels like against her or how soft his lips might be if she pressed herself against them.

"How are we supposed to last a week doing this?" His voice was a whispered breath against her as they stood stock still against each other, the weight of his warm, large hand against her lip. His thumb gently stroking her through her shirt every now and again in a calming gesture. "Will the potion work, Granger?"

"I don't know." Was her honest reply, her quiet tone matching his.

And she knew as well as he did that she was telling the truth.

She just hoped for both of their sakes that it would, or things were about to get messy.

Very messy, indeed.