After a few moments of his silent staring, Hermione started to devise a plan. If her suspicion was correct, a love potion could wear off between a few hours and a few days, depending on the type. Should it be a strong potion, she'd have to put up with this strange behavior for days, and it certainly seemed strong. She could go to Slughorn for help with an antidote, but then she'd likely be stuck talking to him for hours on Christmas Eve. That was potentially worse than dealing with a disgustingly lovesick Draco Malfoy. She could go to another professor for help, but what if they thought she slipped him the love potion on purpose? She knew that typically people were meant to fall for the person who gave them the potion, so any professor might assume she had dosed this boy against his will and now regretted it. She also didn't know how to factor in Draco's reaction upon being cured. Would he blame her too? Hermione was especially curious how the potion maker had brewed this potion to force the blond currently invading her personal space to have feelings for her. Was the potion meant to frame her? Or just make her the butt of whatever joke this was? Regardless, she determined her best course of action would be to brew an antidote and administer it as soon as possible.

"Mal- Draco," she whispered sweetly, his given name sounding foreign in her mouth. "Why don't you come with me somewhere a little more private?" Hermione cringed internally at how that sounded, but she knew if she played along that it would be easier to get him to agree with her. She grabbed her bag and stood up, giving him her sweetest smile.

"I like the sound of that," he muttered with a dreamy smile still plastered on his pale face as he shot up with her.

"I'm sure you do," she laughed, taking his hand and leading him towards the Potions lab. She mentally congratulated herself on acquiring Slughorn's permission to work in the lab over the break. It made up for the disaster that was his Christmas party before break started. She shuddered, remembering how Connor McLaggen leered at her the entire night, eager for her attention.

"Could you keep calling me that?" Malfoy asked as he walked with her, his large hand dwarfing her own. She noticed his hand was softer than she expected as he laced his fingers though her's.

"Calling you what?"

"Draco. I like the way it sounds when you say it," he muttered, suddenly much closer to her. Hermoine's pulse quickened, uncomfortable with having this drugged boy so near to her. "I'm going to dream tonight of you saying it,"he added, his voice like honey.

Her stomach dropped. "Merlin, this is astounding. Draco Malfoy has the capability to be rather charming...even in an embarrassingly forward way," she thought, looking away from him. Hermione imagined what they boys would do if they were here. Would Harry be laughing? Maybe if it was a different Slytherin sweet talking to her while under the influence. He was so violently suspicious of Draco, especially this year, that he'd likely attack him on sight. What would Ron do? Ron. Well, he'd probably be lip locked with Lavender, too busy to notice. Hermoine sighed heavily as they approached the Potions Lab, stopping at the door and fiddling with the charmed keys she'd collected from a handful of her teachers.

"Sickle for your thoughts, gorgeous?" Draco practically purred, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he leaned against the stone wall. "His lips look soft," Hermione realized. He'd really grown into his features more since last year, shedding his sharpness for a more filled-out look. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed how handsome his face had become before. The image of him shirtless just outside the prefect bath popped into her mind, forcing her cheeks to turn a rather festive color. Her eyes were still on his lips when they started moving closer to her, Draco gently grabbing her arm to pull her in.

"Stop that," she said crossly, swatting away his touch. "Did he really just try to kiss me?" Turning away from him and finally finding the correct key, she unlocked the Potions lab and motioned for him to enter.

"Naughty," Malfoy arched a blonde eyebrow suggestively and nodded towards the keys.

"I-yo-no, no, no" she managed. "Slughorn gave the Potions lab key to me. For work. Not for," she motioned between the two of them. "Not for this."

"As long as there is a this, I don't care where we go, beautiful," Draco retorted as he strolled into the room.

"Merlin," she cursed in exasperation as she followed him. "My interest in bringing you here is scientific, not romantic," Hermione lectured. "I am going to brew you something just for you," she added sweetly, hoping that playing along would make the process easier.

"Scientific, sure. Says the minx bringing me to a locked room in a secluded part of the castle. Seems like you're interested in an experiment," he said as he winked. "But for your affections, I'll try anything." Hermione turned away from him quickly to avoid his intense stare.

"Stop, just sit there and don't do anything rash," she warned him as she started grabbing supplies from the different closets in the room.

"Hermione," he said quietly and paused, as though waiting for her to look at him. Herimoine felt her heart flutter at the sound of her first name. She supposed he was just as shocked when she called him Draco, as it was jarring to hear her name said so gently by someone who had never called her that before. She ignored him, dropping her gathered supplies at the table furthest away from him. "Hermione," he repeated a bit louder, still waiting.

"Shush," she quieted him, not taking her eyes off her work station. He didn't say anything, allowing her to relax and focus. She began chopping and measuring, absentmindedly chewing her bottom lip as she went. Potions was not her best class - in fact it was the only one she was not top of the class for. But she enjoyed the structure of crafting potions. Follow the instructions to a t and you should get the exact product you set out for. Unless you use the cursed, evil book Harry was using this year. She rolled her eyes just at the thought of his cheating and absolute refusal to own up to it.

Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck stood up, a presence to her left. "Too close, too close," shouted a voice from the back of Herimoine's brain as her breathing hitched.

"You really are the most beautiful girl in the entire school," he whispered, picking up a curl of her hair and twirling it gently.

"This must be the strongest stuff ever brewed," Hermione mused under her breath. She turned around to face him, staring directly up at his attentive eyes. "Me? With my bushy hair and terrible teeth?" she asked, meaning to joke. Her voice came out harsher and more strangled than she anticipated.

"You must know I never meant any of that. Well…maybe the teeth bit before they were fixed," he conceded after a moment of consideration. At least she knew Malfoy was still in there somewhere. "But not the hair," he said, still twirling it. "Never really the hair. It is so very...Granger."

"Is that meant to be a compliment?" How many times had he twisted even her last name into a demeaning insult? This was the first time she wasn't 100% sure it was meant to hurt her.

"Yes," he sighed happily, leaning even closer to her and gingerly tucking the hair he had been playing with behind her ear.

"I'm shocked you'd bother complimenting a mudblood," Hermione tried a different tactic, testing him. She felt his breath hot on her cheek as soon as she said it.

"Don't use that word," Draco commanded sharply, his forehead creased with concern. "Don't ever use that word," his thumb brushed her cheek and his eyes searched her's, but for what she didn't know. She moved her face out of his grasp before taking a step to the side to widen the gap between them.

"A sudden change of heart about bigoted language?" she challenged again, her tone sharp. "You've never had a problem calling me that."

"I didn't realize what the word even really meant until this summer," he admitted softly, finally breaking their gaze and looking away from her. "I know I was cruel to you, maybe even more than your imbecile friends."

"Still Malfoy," she registered internally at his instance to continue to insult her best friends. He glanced back at her and rolled his jaw. "You don't understand what you did to me. Since birth, I was told I was superior. Not just a pureblood, but a Malfoy and a Black. I just couldn't admit to myself that I was being outdone by a muggleborn in all my classes. A brilliant muggleborn. A spitfire muggleborn. A beautiful muggleborn. I grew up in this world and you came in at 11, and you still beat me in everything. That goes against everything I was ever taught," he mumbled, shoving his hands into his robe pockets and looking down. "Everything you touch turns to gold. If you could actually get up on a broom, I expect you'd outdo both me and Potter."

"I'm supposed to believe that you were, what, acting out? Torturing me because you didn't like that I was not some stereotype?" Hermione snapped in disbelief at his apparent vulnerability.

"Believe what you want, Hermione. But I am sorry for what I said," Draco said quietly, taking a few steps back from her, watching her again. But this time it was not the same dreamy quality, but something more vulnerable. "This summer I saw my father for who he is and the Dark Lord for everything he will be. None of it matters in the end. Blood is just blood."

"Blood is just blood," she repeated slowly with a nod. Her thoughts were moving faster than she could keep up; there was a lot of information to sort through. He watched her carefully, conflict storming on his face, as she stepped back, turning back to the cauldron. She put her processing on hold and returned her focus to the final ingredients. "Just a few hours and it will be done" she muttered to herself, stirring the last pieces of the puzzle in. "What would you like to do while we wait?" She asked with a forced cheer over her shoulder.

"We could always kiss to pass the time," Draco's voice suggested sweetly from somewhere behind her.

"Morgana, this is going to be a long few hours," she thought as she hoisted her eyes skyward, searching for inner strength to deal with this absurd situation. "Why don't we just talk instead?" Hermione turned back towards the blond, giving Draco a small smile as she reminded herself that he was not himself.

"Okay," he responded, the sleepy smile back on his face. "Whatever you want to do, gorgeous."

"Tell me something about yourself Draco," she took a seat on the table next to the potion, watching as Draco walked to the table across from her and took a seat. She'd never seen someone under the potion outside of their controlled class environment, but she was certain for her reading that this type of honesty was an unusual symptom. Hermione wanted to continue to test him. Plus, she'd found herself curious about him, especially since the break started.

"I'm terrified and alone," he said calmly, after a moment of thought."I haven't heard from Mother since before the break started and I am worried about her. Pansy was the one who came up with the Potter stinks idea and she let me take credit because she knows how much I despise Potty," he continued rapidly before Herimoine could comment on his first statement. "I didn't buy my way onto the quidditch team, even though I know you think I did. I am rather good at the sport, and it was an added benefit that my father could provide the team with new brooms."

"Do you think Veritaserum was in whatever you consumed?" she asked with a light laugh, shocked again at the word vomit Draco was putting forth and not sure what to dig into first.

"No, that would be dangerous for us both," Draco said as his face darkened quickly. Hermioine wondered what he meant. "I'm just telling you things about me that you don't know. And Veritaserum has a very specific taste. This just tasted like my firewhiskey turned. I did smell vanilla and parchment though," he shrugged as the darkness faded away from him.

"I smell parchment too, with amortentia," she admitted, surprised at herself for volunteering personal information.

"I can't say that comes as a shock. You'd probably stay in school forever," Draco teased lightly, a stark contrast to how he usually bullied her. This was playful, not brutally personal. Hermione found herself giggling mildly in agreement. "Who knew Draco could be fun? Or drugged Draco," she supposed. "Hogwarts' most beautiful scholar," he hummed contently as he leaned back on a table.

"What did you mean about it being dangerous for you to tell me the truth?"

"Wouldn't it be dangerous for you if you told me the truth? You're the brains, right? Potter's secret keeper and all that," Draco said, arching his brow. Hermione wondered who's secrets he was keeping now, now more worried Harry's suspicions were correct. "Merlin, you are perfect. You already know exactly what I mean, don't you? I've never met anyone so brilliant."

"We could do something productive while we wait, you know," she ventured after a moment of silence, flustered by the over the top attention and mind working quickly to sort through everything he'd shared. "Why don't we study? I've finished all the potions readings for the semester, but I was planning on reading ahead. Would you like to join me, Draco?"

"Anything you'd like, love," Draco readily agreed. Hermione nodded before grabbing her potions book off the table, knowing this temporary truce would evaporate the moment he consumed her antidote.