"Well guess I'd kill Slughorn, marry MaGonnegall, and snog Snape?" Hermione laughed as she admitted the combination. This was the fifth round of the game Draco had introduced her to and he'd made the decision to move the options from the student body to professors. "Though that was a cruel combination you picked for me."

"You'd kill Slughorn? You must really hate not being first in the class in potions, love," Draco inelegantly gwaffed from his casual position on the table across from her. This open and relaxed Malfoy was a sight she still hadn't adjusted to, but rather liked.

"Hey! You picked those three!" she protested, the smile still on her face. After an hour or so of studying and quizzing each other on the new material, Malfoy started asking her questions about her other classes to get her talking. It evolved into discussions about their favorite books, a spirited debate about house elf rights, and stupid games the Slytherin boys played to pass the time. She was shocked that she could have so much fun, and so much in common, with this boy who went out of his way to torment her and her friends.

It wasn't all fun, though. Even as they laughed and teased each other, Hermione's mind kept returning to Malfoy's troubling statements from earlier. Though he was in an altered state, Malfoy refused to talk more about feeling scared and alone. It bothered her; she wondered if Harry was right that Malfoy had strayed further into the Dark. But unlike Harry, Hermione now wondered if it wasn't his choice. She suspected at a minimum his feelings were related to Lucius. Visions of the ruthless blond hunting her in the Department of Mysteries haunted her nightmares. She couldn't imagine what living with him was like, especially with the expectations he surely had. Hermione felt a pang of guilt that she'd never thought of Malfoy's situation like that. Instead, she'd been focused on hating him for his incessant bullying. "It has to stem from something," she found herself thinking. She noted her suspicion in her mental index, planning to return to it when Harry came back to school.

"I can't believe you'd snog Severus, Hermione," Draco fake gagged while shaking his head. "Surely not."

"Severus? A little familiar with your head of house there, Draco," Hermione questioned, using the authoritative voice she reserved for her duties as a prefect.

"Yes, well, we are rather familiar I suppose. He's my godfather," he shrugged, looking at the ceiling above. Hermione revisited how leniently Snape treated Malfoy in class, a puzzle suddenly solved with this late night confession.

"No wonder you hardly get in trouble in his classes. I assumed it was a loyalty to your dear house. Instead it is an even more privileged reason," Hermione rolled her eyes before grinning at him.

"That certainly plays a role, beautiful," he conceded as he swung his legs over the table, back to looking at her. "But only one of us here would be kissing him. I never thought there'd be a day I was jealous of Severus. Let's move away from you kissing other men, minx. You can ask me one now, professors or students."

"No, you keep picking me to snog even though I am never offered up as an option. Do you have any other parlor games like this?" she asked, sitting back up to face him as well. She knew she'd at least introduce this to Ginny, who would eat the game up. "We don't play too many games like this in the Tower. Usually Exploding Snap or Truth or Dare."

"Truth or Dare? We could certainly try that," Draco smiled wolfishly at her. "I have a few dares in mind. But I like this game."

"Oh, we'll have to put a hold on any new games, I believe," she halted him, pointing down at the cauldron as a new color caught her eye. The liquid was finally pink. "Not a moment too soon," she sighed internally, thankful she wouldn't have to play Truth or Dare with this Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, come now Hermione. This is a fun game, you were just laughing with me. Just one more," he pleaded, almost childlike in his enthusiasm. "I want to hear you laugh again, my beautiful witch. It is the best sound I've ever heard."

Hopping off the table, Hermione walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass for herself. "Fine, I'll pick the options myself," Draco resigned, huffing in frustration at her lack of attention. Hermione ignored him as she poured the pink mixture in. "Gryffindor edition: you, Ginny Weasley, and Lavender Brown."

As he said the last name, Hermione's stomach dropped. Even though her crush on Ron had faded, or really burned rapidly to a crisp, after Lavender entered the picture, her roommate still made her skin crawl. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, forcing a giggle to escape her mouth. She paused to look at him before she turned around, feeling a hint of sadness. She couldn't deny that she had fun tonight, with Draco Malfoy of all people. She'd been feeling especially isolated for the last few weeks, so she was sure that played into this irrational feeling. Without the aggression and the insults, she found Malfoy was surprisingly good company. But he wasn't like Harry or Ron or even Ginny. He enjoyed debating with her, read a surprising amount of her favorite wizarding authors, and was quite funny. Even if it was all sandwiched between pet names and compliments he did not mean. She sighed, pushing the wistfulness out of her mind and mentally bidding the boy from tonight farewell. In a few moments, she'd have to deal with a likely irate and ruthless Malfoy. She was sure he'd be barking mad and eager to blame her. Hermione steeled herself for new insults.

"Drink this," she turned to face him, offering the cup. He disregarded her command and the cup with a smile, stepping slowly closer, focused on answering the question he set up for himself instead.

"We'll start with kill. Honestly, it is a toss up between the Weaslette and Brown. Both are obnoxiously loud. Both are not particularly smart. Both are linked to the Weasel, either by blood or by mouth," Draco shuddered theatrically. Hermione laughed in spite of herself, making Draco grin widely at her.

"Draco -"

"I'm not done. I'd kill Brown, I'd say. She tends to prattle on and I've only seen her with Witch Weekly and never an actual book. Which means, I'd have to marry the ginger, because that way I would never have to touch her, " Draco rolled his eyes. "Perhaps we could even play quidditch together after the big ceremony."

"Come on, drink this," she held out the glass for him. In two quick steps Draco closed the remaining distance between them, reaching for the glass and covering her hand with his as he moved to take it.

"Which leaves my favorite question, who do I pick to snog?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. Hermione's heart thumped loudly in her chest as she stared down at their hands in surprise. The smell of his spiced cologne invaded her senses, his breath so close she could feel the heat of it on her face and hear it's rapid succession pounding in her ears.

With his other hand, Draco gently lifted her chin up towards him. Hermione stared into the cloudy skies within his eyes, darker than she'd seen them before. She watched as those eyes fell to her lips, and he gently ran his thumb over her bottom lip. Before she could move, his mouth came crashing into her's. Shocked, her entire body froze, glued in its spot. She could only focus on how soft his lips felt against her's. After a moment of adrenaline rushing through her, Hermione closed her eyes and kissed him back. Her kiss was deeper, her mind utterly empty in perhaps the first time in her life. Draco's hand traveled down, settling gently on the base of her neck. His thumb gingerly set across the hollow of her clavicle, sending shivers down her spine. She parted her lips and he pulled her in further, his warm tongue gently exploring her mouth. As Draco's kissing became more frantic, her entire body tingled. Hermione melted into him, a small moan escaping her.

"No, no, this was wrong," the logical part of her brain screamed at her as her hips connected with his. With that sensation, Hermione's stomach twisted into a knot and her eyes flew open to find his eyes serenely closed. "He is under the influence of a potion. And I'm taking advantage of him. And this is Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake!" With her free arm, she pushed him back, disgusted with herself. As they broke apart, he looked down at her with a goofy grin, oblivious to her face twisted in shame.

"Just drink it," she looked away from him, mortified and unable to meet his eyes, as she lifted the glass towards him, with both their hands still around it. She let go, waiting for him to take it.

"Will drinking that mean this stops?" Draco asked quietly, eyeing the drink cautiously.

"It will just make you feel more like yourself, Draco," Hermione mumbled, shoving it closer and wishing for a quick escape.

"No, I don't want to feel like that ever again," Draco staggered back a few steps, shaking his head. "Please, I can't," he said as his voice cracked in panic. Hermione put the glass down and ran over to him, debating only a second before pulling him into a deep hug. Her embarrassment over her actions from earlier could wait. Something was clearly very wrong with Draco Malfoy and after tonight was done she resolved to figure out what.

"It's okay, Draco. It's okay, you don't have to drink it," Hermione said softly into his chest as he clung to her. She knew she couldn't leave him without the antidote, but there is no way he'd take it like this. "Why don't we do a shot together instead? I have a flask in my bag," Hermione lied as sweetly as she could, hoping this method would work. If he'd been willing to drink alone without the influence of the potion, she wagered that he'd jump at the chance to drink with her now.

"Trying to get me drunk now, beautiful?" He broke away to grin at her, giving her a saucy wink. "Like I said earlier, anything for you." Hermione plastered on a smile and walked over to her bag. With her back turned to him, she grabbed the glass with the potion from the table and pretended to fiddle with it over her bag as though she were pouring him a beverage. This time he readily took the glass from her.

"You don't have one, gorgeous?" he asked. "How can we do a proper cheers together without you having a shot?"

"Fine, fine, let me get one," Hermione yielded, grabbing another glass in an effort to speed up the process. What the wizard thought he was drinking was beyond her, but she was eager to leave as soon as possible. After pretending to pour another glass over her bag, she returned to him, a measured distance away this time to avoid contact.

"To new beginnings, Hermione," Draco raised an eyebrow suggestively before clinking their glasses together and throwing the liquid back. Hermione meanwhile placed her empty glass back on the table and watched him. As soon as he downed the pink liquid, Hermione grabbed her things and fled, leaving Draco alone in the middle of the lab. After the door slammed closed, Draco started. The fuzziness around the edges of his brain evaporated quickly, and any joy the potion had provided with it.

"What in Circe's name had just happened?" he croaked, grimacing as he pulled his brain out of the shadows and into focus. He walked towards the door, thinking through the last few hours. Suddenly, his fingers flew to his mouth, tracing where her lips met his. "Granger?" he shouted at the door in confusion, before it triggered a pounding headache. He sank down against the cold stone wall, the pain overwhelming. God, he felt worse than he did before he drank Theo's gift. "Theo's gift...that son of bitch," he groaned before everything abruptly went black.