Poppy Pomfrey's head slumped forward. Etean moved his hand quickly to catch her before she injured herself. He set her head down gently and then carefully removed the file folder from beneath her. He dropped it open on the desk and moved the candle over toward him so he could read:

'Granger, Hermione Jane, Gryffindor.'

Etean's eyes scanned the page before him. He couldn't make head or tail of it. To the untrained eye, Medical wizards and witches have a written language all their own. Years of writing long, complicated words very fast had reduced their handwriting skills about the same standard as a brain-dead newt. Normally, only the first two letters are legible, the rest being a single wavering line. Etean didn't need to read most of what he saw though, he was looking for something in particular…something that he hoped he wouldn't find.

He turned the page and was greeted by a block of numbers…test results. Etean had read enough of these to recognise the results of blood analysis when he saw it. He scanned the numbers, making some mental calculations as he went. He checked the date, this test was several weeks old. He flipped over, to reveal another set of numbers from a test dated two days after the first one. Etean noted the differences and checked his sums…not good. The next page told a similar story, if anything it was worse. The disease was accelerating. Only one day had passed between these tests, but the change was akin to a period of six weeks. Etean sighed, Pomfrey was onto it, he just knew it. The next page, and the final blood test ended all doubts. Madam Pomfrey had highlighted several of the numbers…exactly the right ones, Etean noted. 'Damn!'

His eyes travelled down to the bottom of the page. Pomfrey had made a note, about the only legible one in the whole file. Etean looked at it, letting the words sink into his head. He had allowed himself to hope that she wouldn't figure it out, but realistically, how could she miss it? Of all people, Poppy Pomfrey wouldn't miss this. He sighed and read it again:

'Nailar's Syndrome! HOW?'

Etean's jaw clenched tight. He ground his teeth together and pounded his fist on the table, knocking over the candle stick in the process. Madam Pomfrey's head bounced on the wood but she didn't wake. Etean looked at the test results again, this was wrong. It was too soon, too fast. Those numbers had to be a mistake. He turned back again, the other numbers played them out. She couldn't have made three mistakes, could she?

He shook his head, no she couldn't have. Etean snarled to himself, there was only one explanation. He reached inside his robes and found the tiny bottle… 'Duncan! Damn you!'

He righted the candle, cleaned up the dribbled wax and returned the folder to its place beneath the sleeping matron before he stormed out of the Hospital Wing, touching his cloak to hide him as an afterthought.

The castle was a blur before him as he stalked up the stairs to the Owlery. He felt like screaming, he felt like murder, he felt betrayed and someone was going to pay for it. He slammed the door open, much to the disgust of the few owls that weren't out for a night of hunting. Etean didn't bother to scan the rafters for Regal, instead he lifted his arm and whistled.

There was a flutter of wings and then he felt the familiar twinge of pain as the eagle's claws dug into his skin. Regal seemed to pick up on his mood, he eyed him warily as he was carried to the window ledge. Etean conjured a scrap of parchment and a quill, he bend his head and wrote:

'London NOW'

He rolled the note up and sealed it with his ring before tying it to Regal's leg. The bird hissed and nipped at him as he roughly did the bond but Etean was too angry to care. He didn't even feel the prick of Regal's beak as it tore his thumb open.

"Stop that," he barked at him. The bird settled and glared at him. "Now," Etean spoke clearly and slowly, "I want you to find Duncan and get this to him before morning!"

Regal looked at him for a moment and then hopped to the ledge and took to the sky. Etean watched but instantly lost him amid the clouds. The sky seemed angry. It matched his mood. Someone was going to pay dearly for this!

Draco sat on the bed, leafing half heartedly through his charms textbook. He had to force himself not to stare at Hermione for too long. The honest truth was that he didn't trust himself when he did. They had maintained an unspoken agreement thus far about what she was and wasn't comfortable with. That was fine by Draco, just being near her was a thrill for him sometimes, still there were times, like now for instance, that he couldn't force himself to stop fixating on certain parts of her anatomy that he longed to explore. He shook his head and looked back to his book. Charms homework wasn't the best distraction…he felt as though the only thing that would work would be medication…valium or the like…but charms was all he had to hand. He stared at the index, and frowned. He found to his surprise that he was familiar with almost every charm in the book. He looked up for a second at Hermione, feeling a surge of surprise at her deviousness as the realisation hit him. It was because of her. In the mad flurry of studying that she had steered him through after his three week absence from class, Hermione had not only covered every page of the work he'd missed, she'd also managed to give him a grounding in the entire course. Now whenever Flitwick would chatter on about some new charm that he was supposed to have read about in preparation for class, Draco would find that he actually did. He shook his head, she'd turned him into a bookworm and he hadn't even seen it coming.

Watching her fuss and mutter as she took the cauldron off the fire and stirred her potion, that was only now coming together after a week of work; it occurred to Draco that he'd changed her too. "What would McGonagall say if she saw you now?"

"Hmmm?" Hermione asked without looking round.

Draco stood up and walked over to her. He couldn't take watching her any longer, he had to hold her. He moved in behind her and wrapped his arms round her waist. "I was just thinking," he whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder, "That if McGonagall were to see you now, her favourite student, sneaking about and brewing illicit potions in the wee small hours of the night, what do you think she'd say?"

Hermione paused, measuring spoon in hand and shook her head. "She'd most likely give me a years worth of detention and take about a hundred house points…just to show her disappointment in me." The sour tone in her voice was evident. She tipped the contents of the spoon into the cauldron, rising a hiss and a puff of steam.

Draco imagined that her prediction was accurate, though he decided not to mention his belief that if McGonagall caught him doing this, then there probably wouldn't even be enough left of him for a burial. "You're probably right," he said, turning his face to nuzzle her neck. The proximity to her bare skin was intoxication itself…or maybe it was the potion…yes that had to be it. The potion had, over the last few hours, developed a rather heady aroma. The smell reminded Draco oddly enough of a lazy day by the pool at Malfoy manner, hours on end with nothing to do…freedom. He could almost picture it.

He shook himself, that potion must be really strong to stink like that. Already they'd had to seal the room with every anti-odour spell they knew to prevent it from stinking up the hallways. Draco moved in closer behind Hermione and nuzzled into her neck. Whether it was the potion or his own hormones, Draco wasn't sure, but he was hungry. He peppered the line of her neck up to her jaw line with kisses and then back down with gently nips from his teeth. The sweet aroma of the potion filled his nostrils at every breath, sending his head spinning. Was this affecting her like this too? He reached up to tug her shirt collar out of his way before he continued down to her collarbone. There was a distant clatter as the measuring spoon fell to the floor unheeded. Yes, it was! Draco slowly encircled her and joined his hands over her navel. Hermione let out a tiny moan when she felt his teeth connect with her skin once more. Draco bit down, not hard, just enough to show her his intention. He got a second moan and carried on, increasing the pressure and sucking hard until she groaned a third time.

Draco drew back and looked at her skin. In the pale moonlight her flesh shone like alabaster. He smiled when he saw the start of a rosy welt ringed by the indentations of his teeth. Draco's smile widened. 'The dragon leaves his mark!' Her skin was damp where his mouth had been. Draco blew gently across it. Hermione reacted as though she'd been electrocuted. Her whole body shuddered and bucked against his hold. Draco held her tight and got back to raining kisses on her pearly skin. As he traversed back up her neck, Hermione let her head loll backward and then leaned it to the side, granting Draco better access to carry on. Draco crossed the line of her jaw and continued up her cheek to her ear. As he gently nibbled on her tiny little lobe, the last vestige of sensible thought screamed through to his brain.

"The potion," he whispered. His hands split from her stomach and moved to her hips, "is it done for now?"

Hermione nodded slightly, her jaw worked a couple of times with no sound emanating. "Ungh…yes," she managed, "Now we just have to…" she gasped as he closed for another gentle bite behind her ear, "let it stand as it is for…a day…"

"Good," Draco hissed. He resumed his lavishing attention on her neck, a little more greedily this time. Slowly he inched his hands higher along her waist to the bottom of her ribs. There they stopped. Draco waited, determined that he should play this game by her rules. If Hermione wanted this to continue, she'd have to tell him. It was an odd game of a sort, to continually shift control back and forth between them like this, but it was a sport that Draco found he thoroughly enjoyed. His fingers continued their hover, gentle caressing her in small circular motions, varying in speed and pressure to entice her decision.

Hermione started to shake ever so slightly. Her breathing became erratic and forced. Draco traded kissing for licking the inflamed skin of her neck. He heard Hermione gasp at the touch of his tongue. Her jaw worked again and her head moved from side to side, savouring his attention while at the same time searching for more. She started to arch her back, her body moving against the pressure of his hands. Still Draco restrained himself. The sight of her chest heaving mere inches from his face made him dizzy, but he held on. At last he got what he wanted. He heard a faint rumble start in the back of Hermione's throat. In seconds it had risen to a full, audible growl. Draco smiled in satisfaction. He had never heard a girl growl like that. He'd known girls that moan, girls that whimper, even one girl that liked to hum to show her appreciation, but never a growler before. Draco found that as unusual as it was, he liked it…a lot. Maybe it was some throwback to mankind's origins amongst the animals that no amount of breeding could eradicate, or maybe he was just a bit of a pervert, he didn't care. Even the sound of it now intoxicated him. He felt himself start to stiffen instantly.

Hermione had asked for more of his attention, and more she was going to get. He let his hands move. He could only feel the contact with his left hand, it took a degree of concentration to keep the pressure even from both hands, but he was determined not to hurt her. His fingers slid over her ribs slowly. Draco could almost count each one. He reached her armpits and then started back down again the way he had come. This was what Hermione had asked for, but Draco knew that it wasn't what she wanted. Her body was practically writhing against him now. He moved his hands again, circling the top of her heaving breasts quickly before returning to the side of her ribs. The growl in her throat intensified, as did her movements. Her own arms moved backward. Draco shivered as she took hold of his belt and heaved him toward her, increasing the pressure between their bodies. Surely she could feel his erection now. Draco had deliberately been avoiding that, it was normally a red light moment for her. Tonight however, it wasn't.

The growl rose again as he continued to caress her. Draco could feel it rumbling through him now, a constant deep vibration running right down to his toes. He knew she wouldn't let him tease her for much longer. He kissed his way back to her ear. "Do you like this?" he asked in between nibbles. He squeezed a little harder to show her what he meant.

"Ungh…." was the only answer. Draco got the impression that she was beyond words right now. He smiled, a deep sense of giddiness settling over him.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked playfully.

Draco knew the answer he wanted, it was the one he had expected. He didn't expect what he got. Hermione's whole body tensed suddenly. Her back arched and her head spun. All Draco saw was a blur of hair before his eyes before her teeth closed on the side of his neck. Hermione bit down hard and held on. The growl in her throat rose to a snarl that held level as she hung on. The sudden pain slammed into Draco's wandering mind and snapped it into focus. The sheer animal viciousness of it startled Draco, but he got the message. Hermione wanted to play rough? Fine by him. His hands moved up and cupped both of her breasts in a single motion. He held the contact lightly for a moment, and then his fingers started to knead and massage her breasts slowly and rhythmically. Hermione's body started to move with him once more. She released her bite, but kept her teeth next to his neck. The growl remained level as a warning for him not to stop. He gradually increased the pressure of his fingers, harder and harder. Each time he squeezed, she growled at him to continue until, finally, his fingers closed around her nipples in a final vice-like grip.

Hermione made a sound that sounded strangely like a howl and kicked out hard. Her shoe collided with the potion cauldron.

CLANG!

The sound reverberated around the room, deep and resonating. Draco and Hermione both turned to stare at the cauldron. The potion inside glooped merrily, unharmed, but the damage was done. Just as the school bell signalled the end of their classes, the deep gong of the cauldron had signalled the end of their fun. The sound seemed to shatter the moment, at least as far as Hermione was concerned. She tensed for a moment and then shrank in his arms, pulling away from him in sudden embarrassment. Draco moved to hold onto her.

She pulled her hands from his waist and brought them together over her mouth. "D..Draco," she stammered, "s…ss…stop."

Draco let her go and took a breath. "Ok," he whispered and moved away. He walked somewhat stiffly back to the bed and sat down. His head felt fuzzy…it seemed hard to concentrate on anything. His neck throbbed. He lifted his fingers and touched the sore spot. To his horror, they came away bloody.

Hermione let out a startled cry. Draco's head snapped around to look at her. She was standing by the cauldron, staring at her hands. Draco could see from where he was sitting that her lips and teeth were covered in blood, his blood. He got to his feet and headed toward her. She spun to look at him. Her eyes settled on his neck and she screamed.

"Calm down," he reached out and took hold of her forcibly by the shoulders, "it's ok?"

"Calm down?" she wailed, "How can I calm down? Look what I…I did that…that…"

Hermione's eyes seemed to unfocus for a second. She mumbled something and then slumped sideways. Draco had to move fast to catch her before she hit the floor hard. He cradled her in his arms. "Hermione," he roared at her. Her eyes rolled about, trying to focus on him but she wasn't succeeding. Draco called her again and again. He coughed, the smell of the potion was suddenly very strong. Draco was starting to feel light headed again. The potion…it was giving off fumes. His numbed mind roared at him, telling him what he had to do. With all the focus and balance he could muster, he stood up and lifted Hermione with him. Outside, they needed air. He moved toward the door, staggering slightly on shaky knees. The fumes of the potion were starting to sting his eyes.

With every ounce of concentration he possessed, Draco made it to the door and staggered down the stairs. Once free of the room, his senses started to clear. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs he was able to think clearly again. Hermione shifted in his arms, she was starting to come around too. Draco opened the door with a mighty kick and stepped out into the chilled night air of the corridor. He carefully set Hermione down before crossing to the window and hurling it open. Freezing cold but deliciously fresh air wafted in and down into his lungs. Draco stood there, drinking in the icy goodness until at last his brain stopped bubbling and his body started to feel normal again. He turned to Hermione. She was sitting by the wall, muttering to herself, looking totally zoned out. He walked back to her and hauled her to her feet without a word. He looped her arm over his shoulder and half carried her to the window. "Deep breaths," he commanded, rubbing her back to help her.

Hermione slumped against him and sucked in the night air. She started to shiver, but Draco wasn't going to let her leave the window until she was able to stand unassisted. Slowly she regained her balance and strength. He found he had to hold her less and less. She continued to mutter under her breath, words that Draco couldn't make out, but she seemed to think that she was talking to someone. He turned round and sat with his back to the night air to get a better look at her. He took hold of her shoulders and moved her closer to him. "Hermione?" he asked.

She jumped and stared at him. "Draco?" she seemed very confused, "What…where are we?"

"In the corridor outside the Hospital wing," he explained slowly, giving his words the chance to sink in, "That potion of yours puts out some pretty strong fumes," he frowned at her, "Do you remember any of what just happened?"

She looked at him for several long moments, and then nodded. "We were mixing the potion…then you were talking…then you were behind me…then…" she stopped and stared at his neck, "Oh my god, you're bleeding."

Draco only now remembered his neck, it hardly hurt anymore. "It's ok, probably looks worse than it really is."

Hermione stared intently at his wound. "Did…I do that?"

"Yes, but," Draco rubbed her shoulders as her eyes widened in shock. He didn't want her to faint again, "like I said…those were some pretty strong fumes…things got a little crazy before I realised what was happening."

"Oh Draco," she whimpered, "I am so sorry," she started rummaging through her pockets, "here let me fix…"

"Shhh," he cut her off, catching hold of her hand, "It's fine really," he smiled at her, "Doesn't even hurt." He leaned over to her and kissed her gently, "really." He smiled in an effort to convince her.

Hermione sighed and rested her head on his chin. "I'm so, so sorry," she repeated, "I don't know how that happened…I just…"

"The book didn't mention anything about fumes?"

"No," she shook her head, "well there was one reference to brewing the potion out of doors, but I just assumed that was anecdotal…not that it was a safety precaution. Oh why didn't I do more research?"

Draco remembered the stack of books from whence this idea came. She couldn't have done more research, he postulated, without several spare sets of eyes. "It doesn't matter," he soothed her, "no harm done."

"But," she sniffed, "How are we going to check on the potion?"

Draco smiled, he should have known that she wouldn't give up on her potion so easily. "Well it's off the heat now, and you said it has to sit for a day, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well then, we wait till tomorrow before we check it. The fumes will have dissipated by then."

"You're probably right," she said miserably.

Hermione shivered. Draco had two options, close the window or give her a hug. He chose the latter, pursing his lips to kiss her forehead at the same time. "Of course I'm right, now don't fret."

He held her and said nothing, but in his mind a worry was growing. He wondered as to the power of this potion. If its vapours were that strong, what would its affects be like when Hermione drank it? He didn't voice his concern, but it grew and grew inside him. He was suddenly very unsure about this potion idea, but did he have another choice? Would Hermione turn from her course? No, she wouldn't. The idea of walking her off to Gryffindor, and then sneaking back here to vaporise the whole thing was starting to sound appealing. He felt a lump in his throat as he realised the consequences. Hermione would almost certainly never speak to him again. Draco didn't know if he could take that, but it was better than seeing her hurt.

His mind raced, searching for another alternative…there had to be something. He turned his head to the side. From this window he could see the vast dark mass of the forbidden forest. Dark and foreboding, just like his options. It did make him remember something though.

"Did you ever think about what I told you the other day?" he asked, "About the centaur…Firenze."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, and you were right, I don't think he can help."

'Or you don't want to tell him,' Draco thought. Her secrecy was going to be the death of him. It was Hermione's life, he had decided, and her decision, but suddenly he didn't care. One way or another, she was going to talk to someone before he let her drink that vile stuff up there, and he was only an animal after all. What did it matter what she told him? "Well I've been thinking, maybe we shouldn't dismiss the idea so quickly."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Draco," she said with a hint of fear in her voice.

"Well I do," he said, drawing her back to look her in the eye, "Don't I get a say in this?" She looked up at him with those amber eyes, filled now with fear and helplessness. Draco felt his spine melt. "Please, Hermione…I know you don't want anyone to know, but will you do this for me?"

"I don't know…do you really think he could help me?"

"I'm not sure…but can it hurt to ask?"

Draco stared at her, trying to let his eyes convince her. Finally, she relented. "Ok," she whispered.

Etean stalked silently past the Hospital wing, his mind still seething with anger. "Of all the stupid…" he couldn't even bring himself to voice his frustration. He just could not believe what the test results had confirmed, but it was true. He'd been spotting the signs for weeks now, he just hadn't allowed himself to register their meaning. Granger! She spun in his head, he couldn't think of anything else. Damn her…Damn that interfering idiot…Damn the lot of them.

He stopped outside the hidden entrance to the 'brewing chamber' as it had been labelled in Draco's thoughts. Right now, Draco was happily snoring, safe in the hope that everything would be alright. 'Innocent dreamer!' Etean thought. 'He has no idea.'

Etean straightened and looked at the wall. "Lupie!" he spoke the password. Granger had chosen it eh? How very odd…these visions as Draco called them were definitely an odd development. Etean passed through the opening and climbed the stairs. Instantly forgetting his thoughts as a wall of stench hit him on the threshold.

"Good Merlin," he choked, "What the hell are they brewing in here?"

Draco's thoughts had told him to expect a thick atmosphere, but this was something else. He flipped up his hood and took a section of the fabric into his mouth. If he breathed through it, the magical fabric would catch the fumes. That way at least he wouldn't suffocate. He climbed the stairs and entered the room. Just as he thought, it was deserted. He could almost see the fumes in the air. They wouldn't clear by morning. When Draco came back in, he'd probably pass out before he made it two steps. Etean raised his hand and concentrated on a suction spell. His fingers glowed as the spell formed. It sucked all the vapour into a tiny concentrated ball which solidified into a non-descript grey lump in his palm. Etean slipped it into his pocket and pulled his hood down, glad to be able to breathe once more.

He turned his attention to the cauldron. 'Granger's salvation?' he laughed silently, 'We'll see about that, won't we?'

He reached into his robes and searched for a few moments until he found what he was looking for. He extracted the small jar and held it up to the light. He counted thirteen little white lumps floating in a sickly green liquid. His blood chilled and his skin itched just looking at them. It was hard to imagine that the value of what he held in his hand far exceeded the total combined fortunes of every pureblood in Slytherin a dozen times over.

He looked down at the potion. It had to sit and settle for at least another fourteen hours according to Draco's mind, plenty of time. He carefully undid the lid of the jar and fished one of the pieces. He held it up to the light and peered at it. The small, diamond shaped sliver was partially translucent to the light, a sign of its purity. Etean hesitated, he had to leave for London just after first light, which would mean he wouldn't be present to witness the results of what he was about to do, but that was probably for the best. He tossed the sliver into the open cauldron, watching as it sizzled and sank into the gloom. The whole potion surged for several seconds before it settled again, apparently no different than before.

Etean smiled as he closed the jar and secreted it into his robes, "Bottoms up, Granger!"

A/N: Here yes are – this be short, but you is getting two in one night

Gotta go now and finalise evil schemes for the next exciting leg of this joyride