Hermione stood frozen in front of the portrait as she tried to think of a good enough lie that could explain where she'd been for the last twelve hours. The Fat Lady looked her up and down with scrutiny. "Been out all night have you?" she asked with a knowing gleam in her eye.

"Abstinence," she replied ignoring the Fat Lady. The word stuck in her mouth.

As she walked into the common room she braced herself for the consequences of her actions. Part of her hoped no one would be there and she could sneak off to have a proper shower. She'd cast a cleaning charm on herself but could swear she still smelled of sex and Draco. No such luck, she thought as she heard shouts and yells. Upon walking in she found the place a ruckus, the boys were all there crowding around Harry and Ron playing a chess game. Neville was the only one who seemed to realize her sudden appearance.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "Come quick, Seamus' has put 10 galleons on Harry beating Ron."

Harry and Ron looked up just then. "It's about time!" Harry grinned at her. "Look here, I think I might win."

Ron threw Hermione a quick glance growing red.

"Ron's about to lose his crown!" laughed Seamus with glee.

"This isn't a spectator sport y'know," Ron grumbled. "Everyone just back up so I can think."

The boys chuckled as they left the table, hovering nearby. She blinked dumbfounded.

"Where's Ginny then?" asked Dean suddenly.

Hermione's eyes met his. "Ginny?" she repeated.

His eyebrows creased in suspicion. "Weren't you with her all this time? ...Studying?"

"Oh, yes," she said as it dawned on her why no one had noticed her. "Ginny has more work to do, so…"

Dean's face relaxed. She'd been so preoccupied with being angry with Ginny that she hadn't noticed how badly things were going with her and Dean. By the look he'd given her, Dean probably suspected she was avoiding him or lying to him about her whereabouts.

Hermione stuck around long enough for Ron to call checkmate, grinning with triumph. Amid the uproar of cheers and booing, she snuck off to the showers and spent a good half hour delighting in the feeling of warm water. She decided she'd go to the library and find her friend to apologize. But she didn't need to because when she walked into her room to get her books, Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bed alone.

"Hey," she sniffed.

"Gin—"

"I just broke up with Dean."

Hermione turned and closed the door quietly. She walked to her bed and sat opposite Ginny trying to think of something to say.

"Is it because of what I said?" she asked instead. "I was upset Gin. I didn't mean—"

"You did."

She bowed her head feeling awful.

"But you were right," said Ginny quietly.

"I didn't want to be."

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve she asked, "Where were you?"

Hermione looked at her bed. The sheets were ruffled and a pillow to the side. Hadn't she left her bed made with the curtains draped yesterday morning?

"I tried to make it look slept in," said Ginny suddenly. "Said you'd already left to get some extra studying done."

She pursed her lips. Right.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Don't," she said with a shake of her head. "Don't thank me for lying to Harry and Ron."

An awkward silence followed.

"You were with him, weren't you?"

Hermione raised her eyes. "Yes, I was with Draco."

Ginny cringed. "It's weird to hear you say his name like that."

"It took me a while to get used to calling him by his first name, too," she said fidgeting with the sheets.

"No," sighed Ginny. "I mean, the way you say it, all soft and affectionate."

Hermione stood and began making her bed just to give her hands something to do.

"You were with him all night," she said. "Where are you meeting him?"

"I can't tell you," said Hermione softly flattening the creases of the covering.

"We used to tell each other everything."

Hermione turned, grasping a pillow tightly in her hands. "I slept with him," she blurted.

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "Hermione—I—how was it?"

She swallowed. "Painful… and frightening and… I feel guilty every time I'm with him but I can't think straight. My head is filled with him."

"Don't be angry with me for suggesting it but, is it possible that he, well, I was just thinking, the bracelet he gave you—"

"Don't bother," she huffed turning around to put the pillow away.

Ginny sighed in exasperation. "Hermione, it could be a spell, it could be manipulating you, your feelings—"

"It's not," she said crossing her arms. "I know it's not because I already checked."

"You—what?"

Blushing scarlet, she looked to the floor. "The first time we kissed he…he did something. Something bad that felt good."

"What did he do?" asked Ginny concerned.

"He…" Hermione covered her face with her hands. "I can't, I can't say it out loud, but I liked it and I was so ashamed of wanting him to do it again I-I checked the bracelet and it's a beautiful bracelet but that's all it is. A stupid, beautiful bracelet.

"It's me, Gin," she said fighting back tears. "It's all me."

Ginny stood and hugged Hermione tightly.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I should've been more understanding, especially, with me snogging Blaise Zabini and all... yuck."

Hermione gave a teary laugh and released Ginny. With a little sniff, she asked, "So you and Zabini, are you—"

"No," she clipped.

"Do you hate him again then?"

Ginny gave a sad smile. "Not as much as I'd like to."

Hermione chewed on her lip as something hit her. "Do you have feelings for Blaise?"

"No," she sighed. "I think it was just an attraction… lust. I care about him though. Is that possibly what you're feeling with Malfoy—lust, not love?"

Sitting down, Hermione gave the question some serious thought. What did she know about love? She was young and inexperienced, and he was her first real relationship. Hadn't she believed she loved Ron? Didn't she still love Ron, didn't she love Harry and Gin, and her parents? Weren't there so many different kinds of love? After some time she looked at her friend.

"I don't know what to call it, I just know that if one day I woke up and he wasn't there anymore, it'd feel like… like..." she paused, trying to pick the right words to translate the feeling.

"Like dying… He would be gone, and I would be too."

While waiting to see her had been difficult before, it was excruciatingly painful now. The last four days had gone by so slowly. He found himself unable to concentrate, constantly checking the time, taking several showers a day, either to extinguish the burning in his groins with cold water or to succumb to it. His mind would replay every minute detail; how he'd trapped her underneath him, how his fingers had dug into her skin and repressed the memory of losing her in the woods, how their tongues brushed against each other in an open mouth kiss and how when he'd finally thrust into her, he'd forgotten the nightmare entirely, filled to the brim, held to her between her trembling soft thighs.

He'd controlled himself until then, wanting very much to wait, the way he was meant to, till he was married. When they were physically intimate he would shut it out, hide it in a deep recess of his mind. But when she'd told him he couldn't touch her, he was overwhelmed by a violent urge to bury himself inside of her proving to her that he could and he would.

And in the instant before penetrating her, Draco learned something.

When you've spent years longing for someone you didn't even dare hope to touch and they're laid out in front of you the way she was, your entire being begins to shake, your heart demands to be released of its cage, your pupils dilate, your mouth salivates and your pulse falls to your fingertips, teaching you that it's a miracle that till now you've been so patient.

He was practicing that same patience now. The water was warm, the bath's surface covered in large peaks of white foam, steam rising up from it. She was drenched and her legs straddled him.

"This was such a good idea," she smiled.

He wore a look of smug satisfaction. "All my ideas are good ideas."

"Actually, I think you may have the worst," laughed Hermione as her hands wrapped tighter around his shoulders. She rubbed her nose against his teasingly.

"Name one," he pouted.

"Besides the obvious," she began. "What about the time you stood on Goyle's shoulders and pretended to be a Dementor?"

Draco grabbed a mountain of foam and rubbed it over her face. She burst into a fit of giggles as she wiped the soapy bubbles away.

"Got detention for it too," he frowned sullenly.

"Well it was a wicked thing to do," she admonished in a playful tone.

He smirked. "I have you in a bath, naked and straddling me. Maybe bullying you was a good idea after all."

She sighed her fingers drawing absent swirls along his right shoulder blade. He let his head rest against the edge of the bath. This was close to bliss.

"I've been wanting to ask you something," she mumbled.

Of course, she does, he sighed.

Without answering he raised his head from where it was resting waiting for her to continue.

In one quick breath, she asked, "Why do some purebloods hate Muggle-borns?"

The question caught Draco off guard and his smile slipped. It hadn't been anything he was expecting. He didn't like this topic at all.

"Because," he began with hesitation. "They don't see how someone born to two Muggle parents can somehow become a witch or wizard. They believe it's from stolen magic."

Hermione gave an unladylike snort and burst into laughter. "That's absurd!" she smiled. "Don't you think?"

Draco pursed his lips and found himself unable to look at her. Her laughter ebbed till the last of it bounced against the stone walls and faded into echo. "Don't you?" she asked a little more sharply.

It was a question he didn't want to answer, or at least honestly and yet he found himself doing just that.

"I-I don't know what to believe," he whispered, daring to meet her almond eyes. They were wide and looking at him incredulously. She slipped through his hands away from him.

"You think I've stolen someone's magic—?"

"It's not as clear cut as that," he argued.

"It's a yes or no question Draco."

Huffing at her simplification of it he answered, "then yes."

"So you're still prejudiced against Muggle-borns," she responded with an acidic tone.

Hermione's collar bones caved in and she crossed her arms over her chest as if she'd just realized how exposed she was. He could see if he didn't try to explain he'd lose her.

"No—I just—have you ever considered—ever thought that maybe… maybe the magic isn't yours, but it sought you instead, thought you more deserving of it? But maybe the wizard who was meant to have your magic is better off without it, or maybe the world is. Take wands, for instance, they choose us, so why not magic as well? It just doesn't make sense to me how there are squibs while Muggle children—"

"Why are you with me then?" she demanded bitterly, her chest rising and falling. "Aren't you worried I'll steal your magic too?"

The truth slipped past his lips without hesitation. "You can take whatever you want. I don't really care."

She scoffed. "Okay then," she said in a calculating tone. Reaching behind him she took his wand which lay on the edge of the bath behind his head. He didn't ask her what she was doing but merely watched.

Stroking the wood, she challenged. "You don't care if I snap your wand in half?"

Draco stared at his wand held in her fists. He remembered how he'd felt holding it for the first time. But the rush he felt that day at Ollivanders couldn't compare to any of his firsts with her. He remembered with clarity the first time he'd held her, the first time he'd kissed her and felt the warmth of her lips…. the smell of her, the sound, the taste, the feeling… always that feeling.

"I imagine," he said softly. "It'd feel like losing a limb."

"Exactly," she countered. "So don't pretend you don't care to lose it."

Draco released a heavy sigh. Pointedly he said, "You can learn to live without a limb Hermione…there are much worse things to lose."

A blush crept up her chest and burned brightly on her cheeks as her eyes danced over his face. He found it strange that after everything they'd done he still had the ability to do so.

Her voice breaking, she asked, "You'd really choose me over magic?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He was having a difficult time putting into words how he felt beyond a declaration of love.

"Don't get me wrong, I love being a wizard, I can't imagine losing my magic. I wouldn't even know how to live as a Muggle, I think it'd be difficult and I'd hate it at first… maybe even hate you a little for it… but eventually…when I'm with you I feel… complete. It's… a different kind of magic."

Hermione wrapped her arms around him tightly and rested her head on his chest. "I still think you're wrong," she said, her words muffled. "About Muggle-borns."

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. "Maybe," he conceded, resting his head back again. They held each other until the water grew cold. His eyelids were heavy.

"Come on," she said rousing him gently. "Let's get to bed before we catch a chill."

As she was getting out of the water he saw that at least he'd been right about one thing. Her wet hair almost reached the dimples on her lower back. Stepping out he grabbed his towel, shivering as he wrapped it around himself. Hermione smiled as she took another and began drying his hair.

"I swear, you're like a child sometimes," she giggled.

"Very rarely," he protested with a pout. They changed and left the Prefect's bathroom. For a moment he thought he saw Filch's cat running along the corridor but it ended up just being a shadow. She chastised him when they were inside.

"You have to come up with an alternative to nightshade. The long-term effects can be serious, it makes you loopy, hallucinate even," she said pointedly. "Not to mention the memory lapses."

Draco didn't want them to fight anymore, they didn't have time to fight. Climbing into bed he replied in a placating tone. "I've already asked Nix to bring me something, okay? I'm sorry, I should've told you."

She let out a heavy sigh, seeming to deflate. Getting into bed she said, "I have to tell you something. I didn't want to but..."

Shifting his head slightly he looked at her questioningly. Her expression grew pale as she began, stammering and stuttering. He could barely register what she was saying.

"…he cornered me. He… he was saying awful things—I tried to leave and then he… you don't understand—"

When he asked her to repeat everything verbatim she couldn't seem to without whispering the words. Speaking them seemed difficult for her. As he listened the further away he felt. He tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. All he could manage to ask was why she hadn't told him earlier when it had happened.

"I'm sorry," she said with a pained expression. "I was afraid of how it would hurt you and…y-you believe me right?"

He gave her a single nod and wrapped his arms around her.

I believe you.

She'd made the right choice by telling him. It was important that he know these things so he could react accordingly. Everyone was an obstacle; Voldemort, his parents, their friends, and every Death Eater he knew would delight in hearing that a Malfoy was in love with a Mudblood.

He heard Hermione wince and held her a little tighter.

Nothing will come between us, I won't let them.

"Draco…"

He buried his nose in her neck and breathed in deeply.

Nothing.

"Draco, I can't breathe."

He loosened his grip on her. "I didn't realize," he said apologetically.

She bit her lip staring at him intently as if by doing so she could read his thoughts.

"Promise me," she swallowed nervously. "You won't raise your wand to him."

Draco placed his hand over his heart and tilted his head to look at her. "I promise."

"Or your fists," she added quickly.

"Never," he mumbled. "That would be quite uncivilized."

Hermione seemed to release a breath and gave him a sad smile.

Encircling her in his arms again, his expression sobered. A heavy weight rested on him as he thought of his friend's betrayal.

"Talk to me," whispered Hermione, her fingers softening the creased lines along his forehead. "You can tell me anything."

"Before we came to Hogwarts, Theo wanted us to run away. He said we didn't need to go to school, that we were smart enough to learn magic on our own. He sulked for weeks after I refused to go… that summer Blaise, Pansy and I, we did everything to make him want to stay…they're the only real friends I have."

Hermione reached out and stroked his cheek, her thumb brushed against his skin.

Draco touched his face and felt wet on his fingers. He'd been careless and let a tear slip; he always was with her. His feelings exhausted him and he closed his eyes.

"You're tired," she whispered just then, as if she could, in fact, read his mind. "You should rest."

"I don't want to rest," he mumbled.

She let out a soft laugh and he could hear it expand in her chest. "But you're falling asleep on me."

Just a few minutes, he thought. Just a moment.

Her hands wove in his hair, gently running her fingers through.

No one could get to them in here.

They were safe.

Safe...

and sound...

A few moments later Draco's eyes opened slowly to pitch black. For a split second, he panicked jolting awake until he remembered falling asleep earlier. Hermione was on her side, breathing so quietly, he could barely hear her. His heart was racing and he waited patiently, taking slow deep breaths willing himself to go back to sleep. But he couldn't. He was painfully awake now and the longer he stared into the dark, the more he imagined the protruding cheekbones of Voldemort's face, the red snakelike eyes, the chalk-white skin which was so thin it appeared to be stretched across his skeleton, his bony fingers moving closer to wrap around his neck like tendrils. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, turning on his side to reach for Hermione. He pulled her close and she gave the smallest sigh of approval. Her body was warm and reassuring but its presence alone didn't make him feel safe.

He couldn't help but place his palm on her chest to feel the shallow rise and fall of her breaths.

"Hermione," he whispered nuzzling her ear. "Wake up."

She barely stirred so he gave her arm a little shake.

Groaning in protest she snuggled closer to him. "Is it time?" she mumbled still half-asleep.

"No," he breathed, his lips brushing hers. Then he kissed her softly and she sighed into his mouth.

It felt as if he was sleepwalking.

Moving his hand, he cradled her head and kissed her again. Their mouths were moving at an excruciatingly languid pace, and he felt her leg wrap around his. He deepened the kiss, his hand stroked her thigh, and then over her knickers drawing them down. Without a moment's pause, he began to remove her clothes; a slow undressing of each other, which was left to their sense of touch to accomplish. His chest pressed down on her breasts as he dipped down to kiss her. His lips began trailing kisses down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, and finally her breasts. He took her nipple in his mouth, much more gently than he had before. His fingers trailed down to her entrance, taking his time. Hermione gasped as his thumb pressed against her clit. He caught her mouth, his tongue massaging hers. His fingers slid into her with ease.

She was soaking; always wet for him.

He traveled down her body toward her sex, unhurried caresses touching her gently along the way, relishing in the feel of her, in every inch of soft creamy skin. He took so long that when he finally licked her there she let out such an agonized cry, it was as if he'd hurt her. Her hand fisted his hair, her pelvis following the movement of his mouth.

Little sighs fell from her lips.

Hermione pulled him up to her, her hand on his shoulder. He felt her part her legs a little as if inviting him in. And he realized then, that the first time she hadn't. The first time she'd merely looked at him as if their consummation was inevitable and to stop it from happening would be hopeless. Rather than resigning to it, she summoned him now with a whisper of his name.

He answered with hers, pushing in. Her wet walls enveloped him in a way it hadn't their first time, so much so that he shuddered with desire. Hermione raised her legs a little and he clenched his jaw as the movement drew him in deeper. She moaned and he felt her palms running over his chest. After a few moments, he felt he could breathe again and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. Draco knew he'd been selfish when he took her virginity but that was the way he was, even more so around her. If he could, he would've asked her to leave with him but he knew short of kidnapping her, she'd never leave her friends when they needed her. No matter how much she loved him, she'd never be that selfish.

He drew out a little and pressed into her again.

She gasped and clutched to him.

He thrust into her again, slow and deep. She was perfect and he wanted to hear those perfect little sounds she made when she climaxed. His fingers sought her clit and touched it gently. He kissed her trying to capture her moans, trying to find a rhythm, a rhythm to make her sing. Her body writhed beneath his, and he felt her fever. His cock was practically crying to go faster and it pained him to ignore the urge to pound her into the mattress, to satiate himself and forget her. She moaned into his ear and it was beautiful because deep down inside it drove him wild knowing only he could do this to her, only he could make her writhe and beg while taking her to pieces.

He bit her neck, suckling on it gently as his fingers touched her over and over again; he thrust into her and he smiled as she began raising her hips to meet his, panting, squirming. She was close but it was difficult to do it this way. Drawing himself up and sitting back, he wrapped her legs around him. Draco found it much easier for his hand to torment her clit and drive into her in this position. It was better than anything he'd felt before and the urge to go faster and harder was eating away at him with every stroke.

"God, Draco, please."

Merlin, he loved when she started praying.

He could hold out, he could do this, just a little longer.

Hermione's thighs clenched around him, her pelvis undulating and desperate.

Perfect, she was so fucking perfect.

And then he couldn't resist it anymore.

His fingers dug into her hips, the rhythm slipping as he moved faster. She let out a whimper of frustration and he found it again but he was struggling to keep it. A single drop of sweat ran down his forehead as he hung on with sheer willpower and then mercifully, she cried out, her muscles contracting around him. He'd never felt her orgasm around his cock before and it broke him. Driving into her with sheer abandon, she continued to moan until his own body trembled violently and he came inside of her.

Spent, he fell forward and felt her shiver, her muscles still pulsing, alive. They both gasped as he pulled out and moved to lie on his back. His body exhausted and worn, he was tired all over again.

"That was…" she said breathlessly. "Fuck."

He hummed in agreement, too dazed to form words.

She cursed again and he smiled to himself thinking it was probably the most he'd ever heard her swear. With that thought, he draped his leg over her and went back to sleep.

While the weather was still cold, a few rays of sunshine were peeking from behind fluffy clouds and a light wind fluttered Pansy's hair as they walked along the shops in Hogsmeade. She was wearing the earrings he'd bought her and she couldn't stop smiling. It was her birthday so they'd gone to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, an establishment he'd only patron on such a special day.

"Oh, could we go to Zonko's next and then maybe Honeydukes?"

"Your wish is my command," he said with a theatrical gesture. "Although I expect recompense on my own birthday."

She smiled with devilish glee. "Who says we have to wait for your birthday?" she winked.

Blaise laughed as they walked into Zonko's. It surprised him how easy it was to make Pansy happy. Draco had always made it look like such a task but maybe it was difficult to please someone when you were obsessed with another girl. He was in the middle of the thought when Pansy exclaimed, "A love potion!"

She took it from the shelf and opened it. "Is this even legal?"

"Apparently," he shrugged. "Those two Weasley twins have their own shop and I heard they sell it too."

Rolling her eyes, she put it back on the shelf. "Can't believe they have their own store! The Weasley's in business. That's the real joke!"

He exhaled, turning Pansy around to look at him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she huffed.

"You only get mean when you're upset."

She huffed folding her arms. "I want this," she said looking around her.

He frowned. "A joke shop?"

"No, a future! I… I have no idea what I'm supposed to do after I leave Hogwarts."

Blaise smiled at her. "You can do whatever you want when you put your mind to it."

"I want to raise unicorns," she said firmly.

"Okay," he said with a tilt of his head. "Can you still see unicorns?"

"Of course I can!" she hissed.

"Even after we—"

"Yes!" she said blushing. "Where would you get an absurd idea like that?"

He grinned. "I don't know… what were we even talking about?"

She slapped him on the chest playfully.

"Right, okay you want to raise unicorns. I'm loving that idea."

"Really?" she said wide-eyed.

He nodded glancing around at the other bits and bobs on the shelf.

"Sure, I'd have to look into it but I'm fairly certain we could make it work."

"Really?" she repeated. "You'd help me?"

"Well we should probably travel for a little after we're married but settling down afterward seems like a good idea."

Blaise picked up a round sphere of some sort trying to figure out what it did. When he shook it, it began to snow over him, tiny little snowflake's falling on his face as he tilted his head back and laughed. "Pans, it's a snow globe!"

When she didn't reply he turned around. She was standing a few feet away looking at him a little like the time she'd seen Nearly Headless Nick take his head off.

"Pans, what is it?"

"Married?" she whispered. "We're getting married."

Blaise frowned. "Well, yes," he scoffed. "We're both purebloods, we're both from rich families, we've known each other our entire lives and you love me, right? I say that settles it, wouldn't you?"

Her mouth fell open and he wondered if he'd been too presumptuous.

"I'll buy you a ring," he said quickly. "Whichever one you want."

She pursed her lips. "Whichever?"

"Of course, anything."

Her lips parted breaking into a grin. "Could we have a big wedding?"

He nodded. "The grandest."

She was beaming and he felt at ease again. They wandered around the shop a little while longer looking at things while they spoke of their lives together after school. After they'd left the store and were walking to Honeydukes she stopped as if she'd just remembered something.

Looking at him with a sober expression she said, "Blaise, we have to have a property in Italy."

"Italy?" he asked taken aback by the random request. "Why there, how about—"

"Blaise!" she snapped. "Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Of course," he said in a soothing voice. "Whatever you want."

Her face relaxed and she was smiling again.

There. Making Pansy happy. It'd be easy.

The afternoon went by quickly and they returned to Hogwarts hand-in-hand. Blaise heard Theo laughing as they stepped inside the Slytherin common room. He and Draco were spread out on the couch.

"There you two are!" said Draco. "We were just about to have a drink. Care to join?"

Theo was holding his stomach, trying to catch his breath.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "It's my birthday you know," she huffed. "Not that you care or anything."

They both gave her a sly smile. "Our gifts," said Theo. "Along with Tracey and Daphne, are waiting in your room. They have gifts too."

Blaise braced himself as she squealed in delight and ran down to the girl's dormitory quickly.

"Look at her go," chuckled Theo.

Draco stood and went to pour Blaise a drink.

"I'm good," he said.

"Just one," his friend insisted. "A toast."

Why not, he thought. It's only mead.

He took the glass and raised it.

"To us," said Blaise with a cheeky grin.

Draco looked at them. "To my best friends."

"Cheers!"

Blaise took a gulp. The mead was quite fancy and it went down the throat a lot smoother than any firewhiskey he'd ever had.

"Brilliant stuff," he commented.

Draco smiled. "From my father's private collection."

Just as Blaise was about to take another sip Theo began coughing.

He laughed into his goblet. "Looks like his went down the wrong pipe," scoffed Blaise.

Draco beat his back to help. "Alright there, mate?"

Then suddenly he collapsed coughing even more violently, his hands around his throat as if he couldn't breathe. Blaise dropped his goblet the mead spilling everywhere. "Theo!" he said falling to his knees.

"Oh my," said Draco. "That's going to stain if we don't clean it."

He looked up. "Merlin! What should we do?"

Draco tutted. "You should really get him to Snape, he'll need a Bezoar."

Blaise felt the blood leave his face. Without thinking twice, he scooped Theo up into his arms and ran to Professor Snape's office.

"Professor! Professor!"

The door to Snape's office swept open. "Stop that infernal yelling—" His face fell upon seeing Theo's sickly pallor. "What's happened?"

"I… I think he's been poisoned."

"Quickly," said Snape. "Quickly."

He set Theo on his desk as the professor pulled open a drawer and retrieved a Bezoar. He opened Theo's jaw and placed it deep into his mouth, shutting it again. A few excruciating seconds passed before Theo's complexion began returning to normal; his eyes half-lidded and in a daze.

"The bastard," he wheezed. "Actually… tried… to kill me." Theo coughed a few more times and then fell unconscious.

Snape looked at Blaise. His beady black eyes locked on his, he asked slowly. "Who, pray tell, is Mister Nott speaking of?"

Blaise gulped. "I don't know sir."

"Very well then," he said evenly. "I will take Mister Nott to Madam Pomfrey."

As he left, he was trembling at what had just transpired in the last few minutes. He had the slightest inclination that the professor already knew it had been Draco and was only looking for confirmation. Blaise should've known. Draco hadn't touched a drink since he'd started Quidditch practices again. He should've known something was off. And the arrogance of it, to poison him in public with such an air of nonchalance. He stormed back into the common room and almost startled to see Draco lounging on the couch, Pansy and the other girls gathered on the rug as she showed everyone the presents she'd received for her birthday.

"Blaise!" she exclaimed. "Is Theo ok?"

Daphne chuckled. "He should really learn to hold his liquor."

"He's fine," clipped Blaise. "Draco—a word?"

"Now?" he asked. "But Pansy's showing me the robes you got her."

His eyes narrowed on the blonde and without asking a second time he slowly drew his wand.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "If you insist."

He walked behind him to their dormitory and locked the door.

"Did you just poison Theo in front of me?"

He hummed. "Maybe a little."

Blaise flinched. "Merlin Draco! He could've died!"

"Don't be dramatic," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I diluted it enough just so he'd become violently ill. The dose couldn't even kill him."

"Have you gone mad?"

His friend sighed as if this was all just a misunderstanding. "Look it wasn't my first choice but I had to work around certain… restrictions. Besides, he forced my hand. Leave it alone, Blaise. This doesn't concern you."

"All because he kissed her?"

Draco's eyes narrowed on him. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I suggest you stay out of it, it's between me and Nott."

"And apparently Granger—don't look at me like I don't know what I'm talking about. I know enough. Besides, you did just poison your oldest friend for kissing her."

"He didn't just kiss her," hissed Draco, his eyes sharp and alive, looking completely unhinged. "Theo's been playing matchmaker. I spoke to Tracey the other day and she told me that he was the one who'd encouraged her to date me. He filled her head with lies about how I'd always thought she was attractive and smart!

"And do you know what he said to Hermione, do you, Blaise? It's disgusting the things he said! He's been playing us like little pieces on his bloody chessboard, trying to turn her against me!"

Suddenly he took a deep breath and straightened, drawing taller. He ran a hand through his hair and became calm once again. "Shall we send him a fruit basket?"

Blaise stared wide-eyed. Theo had been right. Things had spiraled out of control.

"You know Draco, I always thought if you ever got together with a witch-like that—I don't know—it would humble you, maybe make you a better bloke but…" Blaise hesitated.

"Go on," he sneered. "Don't be shy."

"It's just made you afraid."

"Come again?" he scoffed in disbelief. "You think I'm scared of Nott?"

Blaise sighed bracing himself to deliver the ugly truth.

"After all these years of loving her from afar, quietly watching, pretending, lying to yourself, to her, everyone—it's driven you bloody mad because all you can seem to think about is how terrified you are of losing her now that you finally have her—but you will lose her Draco."

"I won't!"

"YOU WILL!" he thundered. "I don't know how the hell you got Granger to be with you, but you will lose her. Either her loyalty to Potter will end it—and I hope that's the case, because if she chooses you over him—and this isn't some fucked up scheme where you've imperiused the poor girl, and she actually loves you back—then I feel sorry for you mate, I feel sorry for the both of you... You're a Death Eater and a Malfoy. Flip a coin on which one gets her killed."

He looked to the floor, unable to stomach the expression on Draco's face. And then he made to leave because he had nothing left to say.

Except... Oh, wait.

He swiveled at the door, his wand raised and sent a powerful stunning spell toward Draco. Draco managed to bring up a shield and another second later he'd returned the favor sending Blaise against the door. He held his stomach feeling winded. When he looked up the blonde was standing above him, his hand held out offering to help him up.

"So about that fruit basket…"