(A/N: Well, I've only gotten two reviews since the last chapter. It's understandable, since I took a lengthy period of absence… but. Anywho. Right now, this fic is back on track, and I've got some reasonably good ideas flowing. However. I still need your input! So, PLEASE, R&R, and give me some ideas that I may incorporate into the chapters.  )

Chapter 7 Mondays Suck.

Hermione screamed and sat upright in her bed, clutching her chest and gasping for air. She had a nightmare about Ron. Draco pounded on her door, his voice, though muffled, sounding quite concerned. She wondered what on earth he could possibly want when she realized that they were on speaking terms and she had just screamed loud enough to wake the whole castle.

She groggily shuffled to the door and opened it, looking at Draco, who had a very disturbed look on his face.

"What time izzit…?" she asked as a lock of hair fell over her face.

"It's almost 3 am… are you ok? I heard you screaming… was it a bad dream?"

She nodded and looked at him desperately. "Draco…" she whispered as she fell into his arms.

He did not protest, but was slightly agitated. He wanted to know what was wrong after being woken up at three in the morning. "Hermione, please tell me what happened," he said, almost impatiently.

She walked over to a large, plush armchair and sank into its cushions. She spoke very quietly, and Draco leaned in to catch and hang on to every word. She finished telling her about her dreams and thoughts on the past week, and he listened to every complaint, every worry, and every hope. Hermione began to cry. No one else would have listened so carefully and patiently; no one else would have cared enough for her to sit through her mindless, girlish babbling.

Draco placed a conforting arm around her, secretly wanting to cart her off to his room and lay her down on his bed, just so he could get some damned sleep. Hermione almost threw her arms around his neck, but decided against it, shrinking further back into the armchair, appalled at the thoughts running through her head. Draco's so sweet and charming… I honestly think he's changed… I wonder what his lips taste like… oh god. I can't be thinking this… he's a Malfoy. MAL-FOY. It's just wrong… but he looks so so right…

Fearful at what she might do next, she jumped out of her seat and muttered, "There is no way in all the nine hells he would ever like me that way…"

Unfortunately, Draco heard every word and, instead of making a snide remark, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Now what would make you think a thing like that?" he asked. WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER! –No. This is something I should have done a long time ago…-

Hermione sobbed and took a few minutes to collect herself and calm down. "Draco, I know you're in a predicament, what with a weeping girl in your arms and all, but I don't see any reason to lie to me about something so stupid as a teenager's scrambled emotions."

"Hermione…" Draco started before Hermione shushed him and continued. "Don't 'Hermione' me. I always was, always, am, and always will be the bucktooth, scraggly hair, knobby knees, bookworm Granger you met in our first year. And, you, Draco Malfoy, never have, and never will like me."

"Hermione…" Draco started again.

"What?" she snapped, glaring at him as he got dangerously close to her face.

"Shut up," he said before he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

She quickly warmed to his touch and deepened the kiss, placing her trembling hands upon his cheeks and falling under his spell. After a moment of pure bliss, she abruptly pulled away and looked at him in horror. She had just succumbed to the Slytherin Sex God. Oh god… what have I done..?

……………………

Draco watched as she ran up to her room and slammed the door. He chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets, striding back to his bed and sliding under his silky green covers.

Sleep, at last…

……………………

Hermione lay awake in her bed for several minutes touching her lips and shuddering at the thought of Draco's passionate kisses. I suppose I might have feelings for him… but he always was, always is, and always will be a ferret… and I will always be the lowly mudblood, forever beneath him…

She cried and hugged herself, sobbing into her pillow and waiting for morning to come.

……………………

Mondays. Hermione usually loved Mondays. Somehow, this Monday was not as appreciated as it should have been. Gryffindors and Slytherins had potions first thing. Luckily, not many students passed their OWLS in Snape's class, so the class had been narrowed down to a little over a dozen. This made Hermione quite happy, but it wasn't enough to brighten her mood. Something happened the night before that shouldn't have. She touched her lips briefly in memory of the event. She shuddered as she fantasized about going further with the silver haired young man. As Snape entered the classroom, she quickly pushed the thought from her mind and opened her potions book to the designated page and took out a fresh roll of parchment.

…

Mondays. Draco hated Mondays. Somehow, this Monday seemed better than the rest. He had potions first thing in the morning with Hermione. What made him happier was that Potty and the Weasel hadn't managed to pass their potions OWLS, so he had almost no obstacle in his way for seducing the beautiful miss Granger. He recalled the previous night's events and smirked, longing for more. He saw her raise her hand to her mouth and knew that she was thinking the same thing. A door opened and professor Snape walked through it. He scrambled to open his shoulder bag and pull out his materials, beginning to take notes on their newest concoctions.

…

Mondays. Ronald loved Mondays. Hermione loved them, so naturally, he did too. However, the thought of her currently made him very ill. He hadn't the faintest clue as to why he felt as though he were being slugged in the gut when he thought of the lovely, hazel eyed beauty that captured his heart. (Though he had already experienced a gut full of slugs…) He wanted her so much. He needed her. Her presence was vital to his very being. I'll get her next time… I'll find a way to steal her away from Malfoy's protection. Once she's away from him, she may realize that I am the one that will truly make her happy. Once she's gone from him and the spell over her is broken, she can remember her undying love for me…

………

Hermione sat on the biggest couch in the head's quarters, finishing up her Arithmancy homework. She smiled as she ended her last paragraph with a swish of her quill and a signature dot of ink at the end of the page. There was a sudden knock at the portrait. She swept over to answer, prepared for the glistening smile of her silver haired boyfriend. Instead, an awkward redhead holding a slightly wilted bouquet of lillies stood on her doorstep. She sighed in disgust.

"Ron, what on earth do you bloody want?"

"You, Hermione. Just you," he said with a smile, handing her the bouquet.

"Ron, I refuse to take your bait. I'm tired of your advances. I don't want you. I don't like you. Please leave," she said with a scowl, then started to turn away, closing the portrait.

Ron stopped it from swinging shut with his foot. "Please, Hermione. At least smell the flowers and tell me you like them. I sprayed them with your favorite perfume…"

Hermione smelled them and recoiled in disgust. "Ugh! Ron, these smell horrid! Is this what you think I smell like?"

Ron shook his head in dismay. "You don't feel dizzy… or swoon-y… at all?"

"No, Ron, I feel like I'm going to be sick to my stomach! Please, just, get out. Go away, Ron. I don't want you here. You've done enough damage."

Ron's gloomy countenance left as he stormed off, the portrait swinging shut behind him. Hermione put up wards around the room, then staggered a bit. Her head was swimming and her limbs ached. Her body began to go numb, starting at her fingertips. The flowers hit the floor, and the sound echoed painfully in her ears as though magnified ten times over. She fell to her knees and held her head in her hands. There was something… something in the flowers… the smell… Hermione threw up then fell over, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't move, and she could barely breathe. Something inside her wanted to push her consciousness down and keep her subdued, but she fought valiantly. Her strength was waning and she knew she wasn't going to be able to keep the struggle up much longer. Slowly, her heavy eyelids fell, and the world swam in circles beyond them.

……………………

Draco Malfoy had been studying for his next potions exam in the library. A befuddled Harry sat down next to him, and Draco crinkled his nose at this action. After clearing his throat a few times and seeing that the dull wizard would not leave him, he sighed and looked up from his work.

"Potter. What on earth posessed you to, erm, 'grace' me with your presence? Can't you see that I'm working?"

"Look, Malfoy, if Hermione weren't my friend, I wouldn't be here talking to you right now."

"Oh? I see now… you're trying to make me break up with her, aren't you? She finally moves on to bigger and better things, and you can't stand the thought of losing her to a Malfoy." He smirked. "You're jealous of me."

Harry stared. "I don't think like that, Malfoy. I'm not the jealous type. Howev—"

Draco cut him off. "As much as I love to hear your babbling, I must take my leave. I have much work to do."

"Malfoy! Will you just listen to me for two seconds? Hermione's in danger!"

This made Draco stop dead in his tracks. Without turning around he snarled, "What do you mean, Potter?"

"I-I dunno what he's planning, but Ron's gone bonkers. I don't know what he might do… he's been going on about her all day and night. He can't stop thinking about her and muttering about how he's going to get her back… I'm a little scared for Hermoine. You probably shouldn't leave her alone for a while. I think she'd be safer with you," Harry admitted nervously.

Draco glanced at Harry and a hint of a smile played across his face. "Thanks, Potter. It's kind of nice to hear that you're tired of playing the hero and have finally learned your place."

With that, he ran to their commons, the only place he was sure she would be at this hour. As he rounded the next corner, he spotted a familiar little red-head bounding down the corridors and decided to take a little detour.

"Oy! Oy, Weaselette!"

Ginny turned sharply on her heel and glared. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Keep an eye out for your weasel brother. He's up to no good. I normally wouldn't ask you for favors, but the love of my life may be in danger. You'll keep an eye out, right?"

"S-sure…" Ginny was surprised at his request. She didn't think a Malfoy would ever be asking a Weasley for a favor.

"That's a good weaselette," he said, smirking and patting her head gingerly before darting off.

Ginny stood frozen on the spot and suddenly had the urge to take a shower.

Draco finally reached their portrait and whispered the password. It swung open and he nearly cried at the sight before him. His fragile Hermione lay in a crumpled heap by the couch. She was deathly pale and her breathing was very shallow. He rushed to her aid and kissed her cheek, which was icy to the touch. He had to bring her to someone he trusted, someone he knew would be able to handle the situation, no matter how dire.

………………….

"Snape!" Draco cried out, banging on the potion master's door. He had just carried Hermione's heavy body halfway around the school and was desperate for help.

The door swung open to reveal a disheveled Snape. He had bags under his eyes, and it looked like he hadn't slept for days. A glazed over look in his eyes revealed that he had been drinking. Snape's face hardened as soon as he saw the limp figure cradled by Draco's arms.

"Bring her in," he ordered, clearing a space off on the nearest table. "Lay her down immediately."

Draco obeyed and turned to see his professor downing a pepper-up potion. He shook his head and smiled a moment, then returned to the situation at hand.

"Sir, something's wrong with her…"

"Well, that's apparent, Mr. Malfoy. A brilliant deduction. It looks like she's been poisoned. Do you know who may have done this to her?"

"Ronald Weasley, without a doubt."

Snape frowned. "Perhaps it's a botched potion then. The boy came in a few hours ago… he claimed to be making up some work from last week when he failed to attend several of my classes. I didn't really believe him, but," he sighed, "one can hope. If I can remember correctly… hm… perhaps if I go into my store room I can recall which ingredients he used. Draco, elevate her head. Give her some water. This may take a while.

As Snape rummaged through his stores, Draco tried to make Hermione as comfortable as he could. At least, he hoped she was comfortable. He sat by her side and held her hand, occasionally putting a damp rag to her forehead and wiping away the cold sweat upon her porcelain face.

"I think I've figured out an antidote. The potion Mr. Weasley used on Miss Granger here was supposed to merely knock her out. However, judging by the lack of nightshade in my stores, the idiot probably mistook it for wormroot, turning his concoction into a nearly lethal poison. The antidote will take a week to prepare. I suggest you take her to Polly and have her put in a secluded bed. I will give you a note to explain to her the circumstances."

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

Draco ran her to the infirmary and handed the nurse the note Snape had written him moments earlier. She promptly directed him to the last bed and motioned for him to set her down. She tucked the pale girl in and patted Draco on the shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy, I will allow you to visit her as long as you like, provided it doesn't interfere with any of your duties as a Head or as a student. Please respect the rest of the infirmary rules and try not to interfere with my work here. Otherwise, you may come and go as you please, as long as it is not after hours. Understood?"

He shoook his head gravely and took his post beside his beloved. Oh, Hermione… what have I done… How could I have let that git touch you again?