I'm excited to update this story today! I hope you'll like this new chapter as much as I do :D!

A huge thanks to TheLastLynx for the wonderful alpha and beta work despite being busy with her Hermione Big Bang, to riptidemonzarc for always making time to beta, and to the marvellous, Brit-picking Astoria-J13 for kicking out those annoying Americanisms! I'm a lucky woman to know all of you! 💗💗💗

This work is cross-posted from AO3 where it might be published a little earlier than on FFN. Please check it out there for aesthetics and a full list of tags. My penname is sarena :).

Disclaimer: All rights belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just borrow the characters and the world for a bit; the plot (as little as there is) is mine, though. This is a non-profit work, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Compared to all the flirting during lunch, dinner had been a quiet affair. Draco's sandwiches were good, solid British fare and a nice contrast to the more extravagant food they had had for lunch. Hermione didn't mind the heated looks they had exchanged across the table, although their touches had remained sparse. Curiously enough, that sent her imagination into overdrive.

For a fleeting second, she wondered if he had gone through... further changes, aside from the tentacles and horns. Maybe she should get more adventurous toys, just in case she'd need some preparation. She did like to be prepared. Ridges and bumps and texture and girth, stretching her so, so well...

She quickly pulled her mind out of that line of thought, vowing to handle all of that as discreetly and considerately as possible, should there be a need when the time came.

They retreated to the library where Draco had chilled water and a slice of the chocolate cake she'd previously enjoyed so much, set out for them. Hermione placed her handbag on the desk and then sat down on the sofa. It was still bright outside, the light of the setting sun filtering through sheer curtains. Together with the magical and incorporated electrical lighting, it gave the room a cosy atmosphere to work in.

Draco poured both of them a glass of water before he sat down next to her. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a tint of pink high on his cheeks. Cedar and a hint of grapefruit wafted into her nose, the scent familiar to her now despite the short time they'd been getting to really know one another.

She'd never thought something like this could happen before his magical outburst at Gringotts. His body heat radiated off him, and regardless of the warm day, she wanted to do nothing more than burrow into it. Work, she told herself sternly, you've got work to do first. And she didn't want to jump him tonight anyway. The fact that he spread his thighs a little wider, finally establishing physical contact when their thighs met, didn't make it easier. Even through two layers of fabric, she felt his heat. She should move away from this distraction, concentrate on their task, but overcome with sheer want—she didn't. She leaned into him. Just a moment. A rumble of contentment rippled through his chest as her head found a spot at his shoulder.

His nose buried in her hair, she heard him take a slow, deep breath. "Where do you want to start with your research for your project?"

Hermione shuffled a bit away from him, angling her body so she didn't have to strain her neck. Her eyes tracked the movement of his tongue as it flitted across his lips, and the cogs in her mind seized up for a second. Flustered at her momentary blanking, she busied herself with the cake, delighting in the rich chocolate taste. After a moment, she said, "Probably any type of literature about blood wards, specifically for containers of all sorts. I think I can disclose to you that it's some sort of box, maybe for jewellery. There seems to be more to the wards than mere blood, though. I'm afraid I don't have many details, only that the box reacted harshly against its former owner. Towards me, it behaved like a calling. Compelling, entrancing and almost seductive in its allure, but I could break free from it before I touched it."

Whistling softly, he said, "That's some dark magic you're dealing with. An ingrained compulsion curse?"

"Might be part of it." She nibbled on her bottom lip. Considering her failure to unravel the layers of protection and that the witch did come to harm through them, this might have been the time to test the limits of Gringotts' secrecy oaths. "There's evidence that the item is linked to an old family which is known for a more... laissez-faire handling of Dark Magic." That should be ambiguous enough.

"Depending on the age of the box, that could be pretty much any of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," he deadpanned. "Although there are certain families which are more infamous for its usage than others."

One of her eyebrows darted up as she inclined her head.

He picked up the hint immediately. "Do you need my blood?"

She raised her shoulders in half a shrug, incredibly pleased with his quick comprehension. The longer she worked with him, the more enthused she was about having a quick thinker as a partner. "I'm not sure your kinship is close enough. And as I mentioned, there are other aspects to the wards I have to examine further before I can come to a final conclusion."

"Alright, then let's look for your books first." He stood and held his hand out. When she grasped it, his skin was burning where it touched hers, the contact sending a pleasant shiver down to her core. "I guess I could visit you at work for the blood donation." He didn't let go of her hand until they reached the top of the stairs to the second level of the library, where the Malfoys had a shelf dedicated to works on warding of all kinds.

"Thank you, but a vial of it should suffice," she said, taking in the rows of books and heaps of scrolls. She carefully ran her fingertips over the dark, aged leather of the spines. "Unless you don't trust me with it, which I would totally understand."

He pulled a face. "It has nothing to do with my confidence in you, but I'd rather see to that in person."

"I understand. We can schedule that later. There are still some particulars about the box I have to work out beforehand." Choosing several thick volumes and brittle scrolls, she began handing them to Draco.

As she piled yet another tome onto his arms, he raised his eyebrows. "Another one?" There were already ten books towering and a handful of rolls of parchment stuffed between them and his chin.

Looking a bit sheepish, she admitted, "I think that should do for now."

"As the lady wishes." There was a cheeky, all too self-satisfied grin on his face as he carried everything to her side of the desk.

"Just two hours," Hermione promised. Sitting down on her chair, she laid a hand on his forearm before he could step to his own. She squeezed it gently. "Will you translate more in the meantime?"

"There are a couple of references I meant to look up earlier." He nodded to the scrolls and journals on his side of the table. " We can talk about our latest findings when you're finished."

Soon she was digging into the complex details of warding and the intricacies of which types of spells were best combined with blood magic. However, she couldn't reach her usual mindset, where she focused on one thing and that thing only, with every fibre of her being. The near-silent rustling of knowledge had never bothered her before, not at Hogwarts nor later at Oxford. But now every minute movement of his made her aware of his presence. And even more annoying was the fact that she caught herself looking at him from underneath her lashes several times, not to mention the utter distraction of her fantasies from earlier.

There was something about him Hermione found more and more appealing the more time she spent with him. He wasn't classically handsome like the ancient Greek and Roman statues she admired so much, although several of the more insipid writers for Witch Weekly obviously thought him Apollo reborn, fawning over 'aristocratic features' and whatnot. She had always wondered if those people had ever seen a picture of Prince Charles when they talked about those. But she understood how it was easy to overlook his flaws. That his hairline seemed to be a little bit higher than it had been during their school days, or that his face was still pointy and his nose a tad too long. His jawline was strong, however, giving his narrow face the perfect amount of edge and roguishness. And the way his face lit up like the summer sun when he laughed could make a woman weak in her knees. It definitely made Hermione's weak. She wanted to know how his face would change in utter rapture, wanted to see red spots appear on his high cheeks and his grey eyes glaze over when he climaxed.

Hermione blinked a couple of times as the text in front of her came into focus again, shaking off the carnal path her mind had been traipsing along once more. She'd be displeased with herself if it weren't for the fact that whenever her eyes met Draco's, he seemed to return the feeling. His lips would form the hint of a smile she wanted to kiss off his face. Or maybe kiss more of it on his face; she'd probably have to go about it empirically.

Work, she scolded herself as she rubbed her fingertips over the tingle that was still lingering on her skin where he'd touched her. There's work to do. Just when she straightened her spine to dive back in, her alarm rang from her wand. The two hours were over.

Sighing as she looked at the decent list of notes she'd scribbled down, she said, "I'll have to schedule more hours with Gringotts and come back. It should go through with my supervisor quickly, I think."

"My library is at your disposal." Draco gestured to the books she'd chosen. "You can take those with you, if you'd like."

"Thank you!" She smiled and arranged her notes and the most promising books into a neat stack before she shrank them and put them into her handbag. "So, what is it that you were talking about during lunch?"

He shifted a sheet of parchment in front of him. "There are several things which came up during translating and cross-referencing, and just this afternoon I stumbled across a section which sheds new light on some of our hypotheses. Even though the whole, tedious process became significantly quicker the more I familiarised myself with grandfather's handwriting and way of thinking, there are still runes I couldn't find any reference to."

"I was afraid that would be something we'd encounter."

"I've tried to search for potion ingredients and recipes starting from the latest journal but his handwriting becomes more of a challenge the older he got. It's easier to get used to those changes reading chronologically."

"I thought Malfoys didn't have untidy handwriting?" she asked with a teasing grin playing around her lips. At his exasperated shoulder-twitch, she added, "I understand what you mean. Some texts I have to work with are severely damaged. How did you handle those parts?"

"What I've tried is to work them out through context and later references but—" He rubbed his neck with one hand, turning it left and right as if to ease tension. "—you'd better take my conclusions with a grain of salt."

"Fair point." Hermione lifted her head a little to catch a glimpse of the words on his sheet. "Even if there are gaps now, we can probably fill them in later."

"This is the latest account of all the ancestors Abraxas mentioned so far including their dates of birth and death." Draco pushed his parchment across the table, a neatly organised list covering the whole of it. "I haven't cross-referenced many documents regarding these family members yet. The research on a potential potion seems more important at the moment." His eyes flickered to a stack of notes next to him. Then he exhaled heavily and rubbed his fingers over his temple. "I still checked the family tree, and our earlier assumption that every second generation is affected doesn't hold up. The passages I translated today mention ancestors that don't fit the pattern. Some aren't even on the tree but he explicitly calls them members of the family in his notes."

Deep in thought, Hermione tilted her head to the side. "Do you know when the family tree was created?" She appraised his face, remembering the last session and the surprise it had revealed. "Are there ways to manipulate it further besides changing the family motto?"

"It was probably created a few generations after Armand came to England. Family trees are—" He turned to the shelf where they'd attached the long stretch of paper with a copy of the family lineage. "—complicated magic. It's hard to date them precisely."

"I know that on the Blacks' tapestry, some family members were blasted off."

"A rather crude method if you ask me, but befitting the vicious streak running in that part of the family." He raised his palms when she lifted an eyebrow. His mother was a Black, one of the only two remaining of that family, and his aunt Andromeda was even-tempered as far as Hermione knew. "Isn't it true? Araminta Meliflua, Walburga…" His eyes flitted to Hermione's forearm. "Bellatrix."

The scar was below a concealment charm, hidden from the world and the eyes of nosey fellows, but it was there. Draco had seen and touched it even, caressed it with careful strokes of his fingertips. Her mouth ran dry when she remembered the titillating feeling of the tip of his hot tongue tracing her other big scar. The silvery, ragged line of Dolohov's curse marred the skin of her front, but Draco hadn't been repulsed at all. His tongue had been slipping as deep into her cleavage as possible and she'd wanted to—

She quickly took a sip of water to swallow down the surge of lust that made her nipples hard. It was getting extremely annoying how her imagination picked up any thoughts of sex so willingly.

After a pause that he spent scrutinising her, he continued, "When I did a bit of research on genealogical tapestries to change our family motto, I came across a set of spells to alter a tree without leaving much magical residue. However, the deeper they lie in the past, the less likely one would be able to detect manipulations."

"So, just because someone isn't on the tree doesn't mean they weren't part of the family. Grand." She glared at the copy they'd made as if it would spill all its secrets if she'd only look at it sternly enough.

"Correct. I'd wager there were even more family members left out, and Abraxas either didn't know their names or didn't note them because he didn't think they suffered from the curse. Be it due to the fact that the early years are patchy, and the tapestry was created later, or that whoever created it wanted them purged from the history of the family. Illegitimate children, Muggleborn spouses, squibs, you name it. Whoever is on there was officially a part of the family, though. This whole issue is something I haven't explored at all yet."

Hermione put her elbows on the table and massaged her forehead with both hands. There was a tightness forming behind the bone. "Alright. This is something which would keep a historian busy for years, I guess, and we have more pressing issues. We'll dismiss our hypothesis of every second generation. Unfortunately, that means any of your forefathers could have carried the traits, not to mention that it might go back further than your grandpa's list."

"Figuring out why they were afflicted and not others will be even more difficult. For the time being, I'd be content with a list of confirmed forefathers who showed the symptoms."

"Right. We do know that it's something which must be passed on throughout your family."

"How unfortunate that my family is exceptional at keeping secrets." Draco's eyes roamed over the expanse of the secret documents he and his mother had retrieved from Gringotts. "Most others aren't." He looked at Hermione again. "The Greengrasses are suspected to carry a family curse of some kind, but I don't know any specifics, only that some die comparatively young. They are truly hush-hush about it, so I'd appreciate your discretion."

For a short moment, Hermione wondered if Astoria was one of them, but she focused back on the topic at hand. "It has likely nothing to do with your disposition anyway. Based on the dates on your list, there are only a few which weren't at least in their eighties when they passed."

"Right. I have marked the names Abraxas noted on the tree to track them if needed." He first gestured to the copy of the Malfoy tapestry, then to the piles of documents around them. "The names which aren't on it… I guess we should add them as we find them, as well."

"Good idea." Her index circled over the column of names on the parchment in front of her. "Have you found all documentation relating to the ancestors mentioned by your grandpa?"

Draco patted several stacks next to him. "We can go through these together, or we can split them up and you can take some with you." He hesitated for a second, his eyes flitting to an undefined point above her shoulder. There was red creeping up his neck but his face was a study of expressionlessness. It made her feel curious but at the same time uneasy. "There are some more… unsavoury things hidden in some of the scrolls. My mother would throw a very unladylike fit if she knew you'd get to see them, despite the Vow."

"More unsavoury than blood supremacy?" Hermione snorted derisively. Draco's mother had even fled her home so she wouldn't have to meet her while they were working on the family curse. "Worse than even that? Like what? More torture in your sitting room? Good lord. The charming life of a blood racist."

He did look a mixture of affronted and embarrassed at that. "Haven't found that in detail, but I can't rule it out. Still—" The colour on his face deepened. "Other things." He paused again, then he seemed to have changed his mind. "There are several things I've discovered that I'm sure even my mother doesn't know about the family. But undoubtedly she'd want any evidence of them to be incinerated, and honestly, I can't blame—"

"Malfoy," she said, never one to be patient when somebody withheld information from her. "Get to the point."

"There was one ancestor who painted the entire interior of the manor black."

"Not what you'd call particularly sane," she replied, guffawing, "but that's it?"

"Another one had a certain inclination towards animals. There was extensive photographic documentation."

"Oh."

"And keeping a wyvern in the dungeon doesn't seem exceptionally agreeable either. That ancestor was a hunter who liked to show off his trophies, preferably when they still lived. He allegedly also kept a Zouwu and Tebo."

Hermione's heart clamped painfully at the ordeal these poor creatures must have suffered.

"Let's not even mention the human sacrifice one performed because she believed it to enhance her magic. Turns out it didn't. What a surprise that was. Great-grand-grand-et-cetera-grandmother Constancia's ashes seeped into the soil behind our manor." His tone had taken on a sombre inflection before it became almost cynical. "She really should have gone the extra mile and performed it at Stonehenge."

Hermione couldn't help but snicker at his dry tone. "Taking shortcuts during rituals has never paid off."

"Another one of my ingenious ancestors seems to have put his wife into a stasis charm after her passing."

"Ew." Hermione grimaced through her chuckle and held up her hand. "Alright, alright. I get it. Some questionable characters in your family."

"Some of those only married into the Malfoy line."

"Still means it got passed on," she shot back, one of the corners of her lips coming up in half a smirk.

"I'm perfectly sane, thank you very much!"

"Said no insane person ever."

He pursed his lips as his eyes became slits. "What are you insinuating?"

"So, you're telling me if I went over and provoked you now, you wouldn't release the tentacles?" She let her tongue peek out as she stifled an outright grin.

"Appendages. They have nothing to do with my mental state."

If that wasn't a challenge, she didn't know what was. She got up and went to his side, one hip canted as she placed her hand firmly onto it. "You said yourself that you have a shorter temper now. On top of that, we both have noticed an increase of certain… appetites."

Draco pushed his chair back to face her, his expression a combination of expectant and wary. Seizing the opportunity, she plopped down onto his lap. Too bad that their position didn't allow her to straddle him. That would be all the sweeter, but she'd be content with his warmth against her side. She wiggled her bum a little, even though she couldn't feel much more than his upper thighs under her.

"Granger," he grit out, voice oddly strangled. But if he was trying to fight his impulses, he was doing a bad job with it this time. Draco pressed his lips to her neck, his tongue swiping along it until he reached the edge of her jaw, and Hermione heard the welcome rip of fabric. She smiled to herself, eagerly anticipating the touch of his appendages. Within the blink of an eye, they wrapped around her. She couldn't tell if all of them were on her, but she felt how some coiled around her arms and middle, how others slithered over her legs. An explorative one slipped below the top button of her blouse, leaving a searing trail from her collarbone to the crease between her breasts. There, it remained as if it weren't sure what to do next.

Hermione arched her back, pushing her chest out in invitation. Draco's breath spilled hotly against her neck, then the tip of the tentacle dipped under the lace of her bra. It squirmed around the swell of her breast until it found her nipple, flicking over it, back and forth without reprieve. The residue on the surface of his extra limb tingled on her skin, sending a current of lust directly to her clit. She rocked her hips back and forth and let out a guttural sound. She was aware that she'd got completely lost in her desire as she turned her head to give him a sloppy kiss but couldn't summon the necessary energy to fight against it.

"Ice Wind, Hermione. Fuck," Malfoy panted out. His lips were wet and ruddy as he searched for hers again. "Old Magic," he added between gasps and kisses, "can't be sure about how…" His voice tapered off as another appendage found her other nipple. He groaned as they both painted circles around her nipples, occasionally dragging right across them. Hermione felt more wetness gathering between her thighs as she closed her eyes to revel in the feeling of him directly on her skin.

"Glacium ventale!"

A gust of coldness came down on her. Hermione shivered, half from arousal, half from the cold. Draco incanted the spell again and she finally could clear her head from the overwhelming lust. Solidly placed on his lap, she bent over the edge of the table to fumble for her own wand. The tentacles were still all over her body but their frantic movements were slowly abating. The ones in her bra continued to stroke her softly. She didn't want to lose the contact, not yet. It felt too good. "Glacium ventale," she repeated the spell, sending another icy shower over herself and Draco.

"Fuck," he uttered again.

A final flick of the tips over her nipples made Hermione press her lips together to stifle a moan. Reluctantly, his appendages loosened their hold on her and then retreated. He nudged the small of her back a little, and reluctantly, she got up. She straightened her clothes to give herself something to do instead of looking at him. Her face burned. She'd never lost control over herself like this. "Fuck," she reiterated his words and cast another Ice Wind on herself for good measure. "I don't know what came over me." Her voice was barely audible even to herself.

Draco cleared his throat. From the corner of her eye, she saw his appendages twitch. They looked as restless as she still felt randy. "I wasn't exactly unwilling. Quite the opposite."

"I—" She put her face into her hands to collect herself. Lifting it up again, still a fiery crimson surely, she exclaimed, "I don't throw myself at people during research sessions!"

"Not even to prove that you're right?" Under the flush on his face, there was a flash of amusement.

She sucked in her cheeks and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, quickly changing the subject. "What was that about Old Magic you've mentioned earlier?" It was high time to get back to working on the Malfoy curse.

"Old Magic, Dark Magic, Wild Magic... All branches of magic with their own rules and limitations—"

Hermione began to pace. "Yes, yes, I know. Family Magic belongs to that type of inherent magic, too."

"The concepts of Dark Magic are clear to both of us." At her impatient nod, he carried on, "And if we consider that this disposition has run in my family for many generations, it's not the more spontaneous Wild Magic."

"What's left is Old or Family Magic," she concluded. She stepped back to her chair and plopped down. The sheen of perspiration that had formed on her face with her embarrassment was like a welcome, cooling dew now. After a moment of contemplation, she cocked her head to one side. "Though we can't completely rule out Dark Magic. We're still in the dark about the exact origin."

"Right. Family Magic… I can only speak from how it feels, and I don't think it has a central part here. Old Magic, on the other hand? If we trace the long line of ancestors who were afflicted and the persistence in the familial line, it seems likely that Old Magic plays an important role."

"And it is often linked to sexual rituals. Beltane, Samhain."

"Exactly." He nodded, looking pleased.

She watched him thoughtfully. "You think something might happen during a—" She had to gather her thoughts as thinking about the mechanics immediately summoned the feeling of all his limbs on the most responsive parts of her body. She glanced at the parchment in front of her, a deepening crease between her eyebrows. Finally, she finished her sentence, "—union."

"Coitus," he supplied at once. That wasn't particularly helpful, and neither was his forming smirk.

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, refusing to let him have the last word. "Congress."

"Intercourse."

"Relations," she shot back.

"Communion."

"Are we going to list all of the polite words for it now?"

"Penetration?" He laughed at her raised eyebrow. Then he leaned forward, licking across his lower lip as his eyes fell to her mouth. "Is fucking impolite enough for you?" His voice was low and full of timbre, but as soon as he looked up, the grin was back on his face. Still, there was an unspoken promise in his eyes that had her vividly wondering how it would feel if she were fucking him. "Pity, I just wanted to rattle down all the words I learnt through those old documents."

Hermione took her pen to give her fingers something to do instead of fanning herself at the repeated rush of warmth. If he spoke to her in that tone, it probably deserved to go on the list of Malfoy's assets, too. She didn't think she was in any state to discuss various suggestive terms. "A fascinating topic, I'm sure."

"For some, I'm not quite sure if they really refer to what I think they do." His voice was back to low. "Maybe you could help me out? For the advancement of research."

Her earlier rising to the bait of his cheek already forgotten, the flood of excitement that streamed through her at his tone didn't seem to want to stop anytime soon. She groaned. "It's happening again." She moved her wand the five-quarter circle the spell required and finished it with a flourish. When the resulting gale of cold wasn't to her satisfaction, she repeated the charm once more. The dusting of ice that surrounded them already became thicker, and she finally felt steeled enough to focus on their research again. "Alright." She drew a deep breath. "So, we're assuming something will happen if we have—" She hesitated, desperately attempting to fight down the warmth under her skin that the image of her core stretching around his cock brought. "—penetrative coitus. Agreed?"

"Yes."

That complicated things immensely. Her body kept thrumming, the sheer need dampened by the charm, but it still was aching for release. She took a deep breath. This needed to be addressed, and better sooner than later. "What indications do you have?"

He shuffled through his notes and fished one out from further down. "There's a certain level of… interaction between us." He pushed the sheet to her. It was listing the arguments they'd had and the other interactions. While they weren't in detail—in fact, only the date was noted—Hermione immediately knew what happened on those dates. It was one thing to remember and replay them when she was at home, bringing herself to a much-needed climax, but having them listed on a piece of parchment was different. Heat must have been showing on her neck. She risked a quick glance at him. His cheekbones sported a bit of colour, too. Maybe he thought about all the kissing and touching as frequently as she did?

"It could be a positive feedback loop." At his questioning expression, she explained, "It's a concept used in Muggle science, mostly in biology. The presence of a substance triggers the production of another substance, and that causes an increase of the first substance. This increase is sometimes even multiplied from one circle of trigger and reaction to the next. It's called 'a positive feedback loop' because of the addition and the potential of a never-ending bloating if left unchecked. Normally, there are counteractions in place which intervene when a certain level of one substance is reached, shutting down the loop. There are diseases which are caused by malfunctioning stop mechanisms to this kind of loop."

"Like a horcrux."

"Not quite." She leaned back in her chair, the tip of her tongue between her lips. "The influence of the horcrux on the bearer increases over time, yes, but the item or better yet, the curse on it, doesn't get more powerful. That would be necessary for a positive feedback loop."

Draco's eyes danced across the room as he processed her explanation, then he focused them on her again. "Alright, go on."

"In our case, we might pick up each other's emotions."

"People do that often, without the addition of magic." At her beginning rebuke, he held up a hand. "I admit that it seems to be more distinct here."

"Prompted properly, the other person adds to it—or even multiplies it, we'd have to examine that more closely—and feeds it back to the first person which increases the emotion after each cycle until one of us puts a stop to it." She pointed to a stack with journals. "The potion Abraxas was working on might interfere with the loop, and I'm sure the Ice Wind spell does, too, dampening it, although it seems to have lost effectiveness."

Malfoy stared at the list she had in front of her. His brows drawing together, he admitted, "You might have a point there."

"A preliminary hypothesis, of course." She added today's date to the list before she pushed the sheet back to him. Being reminded of all those incidents promptly summoned the feel of his hands and appendages on her, but she ignored it. "I still can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. We started our research not even two weeks ago, and we're behaving like…" Her voice tapered off. "I know we ruled out love potions. Those would have to be administered regularly, judging by what I know about them. How about love spells?"

He leaned forward and folded his hands under his chin. The red was almost gone from his face and his appendages seemed to be retreating, as well. "These spells would need constant renewal. Unless the caster would go as far as sacrificing an animal or even a human." His eyes wandered over her face. "You can't cast them on two or more people in the hope that they jump each other, which means it would have to have been one of us doing it. I surely know I didn't."

"Me neither," she huffed, throwing her hands up. As if she was trying to lure Malfoy in. That he was attracted to her was not her fault.

"My point exactly."

"We still need to verify that. Just to be absolutely able to strike it from the list." She didn't really like the suggestion she made next herself. "So no contact for a week."

"A week?" His voice caught at the last word. Clearing his throat, he added, "I mean, don't you consider that a bit exaggerated?"

Hermione sighed, her hands coming up again to rub over her face. "Realistically, a week wouldn't be enough for blood magic-based spells to blow over anyway. Those are lasting. But it would definitely make the effects of love potions and common love charms fizzle out. We'll have to exclude those once and for all."

"And what about the dark object you're working on?"

She nibbled on her lower lip. "Would it be possible for you to come to Gringotts tomorrow? I know it's kind of short-notice, but it seems prudent."

"I don't see why not."

"Then let's try unravelling the blood wards tomorrow."

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