Previously on IDTTPJ: Back in November, Draco had his first relapse in Herbology. He caught up with Hermione after class where she used wandless magic to petrify him and leave him on the front lawn. He was later rescued by Pansy. Now he is in the same situation. He got his memories back and with them, his relapses. Hermione is still in the dark about their history and petrified him after he tried to force himself on her. Also, before Hermione took the Mind Wipe potion, she forced Harry and Ron to take a wizard's oath, promising not to tell her about Draco or the lust potion.

Ch 21 The Silent Treatment

Pansy Parkinson sat in her 7th year elective course: Society Life for the Modern Witch. She was just putting the finishing touches on her "Accessorizing for Success" diagram when a plain brown owl swooped in and landed on her table. She took the note from the owl and shooed it away.

She unfolded the torn parchment and read it quickly. "Professor? I've just received an urgent message, may I be excused?"

"Why Miss Parkinson," the older woman said, "what an eloquently vague request; perfect for a society woman. You may go."

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His body strained for release, stomach aching with unused energy. He hated the feeling of being locked in a prison of his own body. The muscles in his arms and legs contracted painfully, futilely. And his arousal was worse. The swell in his pants had been frozen unnaturally erect for too long. His fingers, frozen atop his belt buckle, itched to relieve it. He worried that it would be damaged. Merlin, he'd AK her if his prick didn't recover. I'm going to kill her, he thought, breathing quickly through the part in his lips, Fuck her, then kill her.

Because his body still wanted her. The pain was secondary to the lust. He could have had her here and willing if he hadn't been such an idiot. There had been plenty of opportunities to tell her about the lust potion and everything that'd happened afterwards. But he'd chosen not to. He'd been afraid of the risks. He hadn't considered this particular risk, however.

It turned out, he wasn't actually angry with her at all. And if he let himself think it, though he was doing everything in his power to push it from his mind, he knew he'd seriously damaged their relationship. The look of fear on her face when she'd tried to fight him off haunted him already. He only hoped she would give him the chance to explain himself. That is, if she ever talked to him again. He was suddenly grateful to be frozen. He couldn't bear what could have happened if she hadn't been able to do wandless magic. How far would he have gone?

He heard the door open, rather than saw it; his eyes cast down as they were. Tears pooled in his eyes. It was painful to keep them open for so long. He hoped whoever found him was friendly – a Slytherin – or even, at this point, a teacher. He hoped, nearly prayed, with the persistent chant in his head, that it wasn't Potter. He couldn't imagine the ridicule that would follow being found frozen, fully aroused, with tears in his eyes. Please don't let it be Potter.

"So you are here," came a voice he'd recognize anywhere. A voice that sounded sweet to him despite her smug tone. Pansy's voice. "When I got the letter, I wasn't sure it'd be true. Could have been a prank, you know. But, here you are. Looks like she got you again."

He wanted to sneer. Couldn't the teasing wait until after he was free?

"I should leave you," he could hear the shuffling of her feet and the rustling of her robe. "You made your own bed by chasing after that mudblood."

Bitch, if you leave me like this, I swear to the Dark Lord himself, you'll never see…

"I won't though. What kind of a friend would I be if I left you here in your time of need?" She was right in front of him now and he could see the tips of her school-approved black shoes. She chuckled like she'd heard his thoughts. She probably knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. "But first, I have some things I've been meaning to tell you."

How very Slytherin of her, he thought. He'd be proud if he wasn't so annoyed.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll just say it." She paused for a moment like she was organizing her thoughts, then took a deep breath, "What in Merlin's name are you doing? Look at yourself! You are petrified with a tent in your pants the size of London. Who knows how long you've been like this – or how long you would've been if I hadn't come."

He wanted to cringe. That was something he'd been worried about himself – how long he'd be stuck there. He'd hoped it wouldn't be days, but he'd known it was possible.

"And for what?" She was still talking. "A mudblood? I told you I didn't care about that, and really I don't. You can screw whomever you please, but not when it's affecting you like this. I mean, do you actually think you have a future with her? Would you really sacrifice generations of blood purity for some physical attraction?"

She was pacing the floor in front of him. He watched her feet and ankles wondering how long this was going to take. He could imagine what she'd look like if he could see her face. She was probably rolling her eyes and talking with her hands. She usually counted off her arguments on her fingers. He could almost hear those customary gestures.

"Now, I'm in no way suggesting that you should even think about settling down at this point in your life. You've got a good ten years before you need to consider that, but why try to win her back? There are plenty of other girls to conquer without looking pathetic. If she doesn't want you, who cares? And if you really do care about her, you should end it now and not years down the line. You can't marry her. She'd extinct the Malfoy line. Think about it. It'll be better for both of you if you just forget about her altogether."

If he could talk he'd argue. He'd lie about how he didn't care about Hermione and how she was just a good shag. He'd tell her to mind her own business, and that he knew what he was doing. But he couldn't talk, so he waited. Faintly, he noticed the lust was gone. She'd killed it. Figures.

"There, that's all I wanted to say. Finite Incantatem."

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"She's down there again, isn't she?" Harry said as Ron entered their dorm.

Ron closed the door behind him. "Yep, on the couch 'reading'. She's being a right bitch too. When I came in, she told me to shut up and take a shower. I mean she actually said that." He looked at Harry for a reaction, but didn't get one. "So, I'm wondering, what's crawled up her arse? Yesterday, during lunch, she said I looked like a pig at a feeding trough."

Harry covered up a chuckle by clearing his throat. "Yeah, I remember…That was pretty rude."

"Thank you!" Ron said, flopping onto his bed.

"But don't worry, it's not just you. This morning, she said, and I quote, 'Harry, no offense, but your constant whinging is making me want to claw my ears out.' And I was just asking her to pass the butter!"

Ron's jaw dropped. "Harry, we've got to do something. As her best friends, we need to set her straight."

Harry huffed and rolled off the bed. "I guess I'll go talk to her."

"It's your funeral."

Harry went down to the common room to find Hermione. She'd commandeered the couch, spreading her books and parchments all over its cushions. He chose a chair a few feet away and opened a Charms book. It was a lousy ruse, he knew, and she seemed suspicious but didn't comment.

He flipped through the pages wondering why, of all the books he could have brought, he chose Charms. It was about the only subject he wasn't behind in and it wasn't something he would ever read for pleasure. Ten minutes passed before he couldn't pretend anymore. The boredom of reading a text book was overwhelming. "So, you've been here every night this week," he said tentatively.

Hermione said nothing. She nodded and continued to read like she was too busy to be bothered.

He forced a laugh and continued, "Yeah you've stayed in more this week than you have all term."

She made a show of marking her place in the book and setting it aside. "What's your point? I do live here you know," her eyes were narrowed, her voice agitated.

"Yes and we're glad to have you back, but how long it is going to last?" he had a feeling he knew why she was suddenly spending every night in the dorm and why she'd been so moody.

She hesitated to answer. "Until NEWTS are over, is a safe bet," she glanced at her book and then back to Harry. "Merlin, it's nearly impossible to study anywhere in Gryffindor tower!'

She'd given him an in and she didn't even know it. "Maybe you should study in the library; it's much quieter there."

She shrugged, but didn't move to get up. "Yeah, maybe I will."

"I bet you won't" Harry said, his heart speeding up.

"What?"

"You haven't been in the library for a week and you haven't been anywhere alone either. You've asked Ron and me to walk you to every class. I can't remember the last time we did that."

"That's ridiculous. Maybe I just missed you."

"Or maybe you're avoiding someone."

She sucked in a breath and rolled her eyes, "Avoiding someone? Harry, I think you're paranoid."

"Hermione," he said locking eyes with her, "I know, okay. About Malfoy."

She was quiet and he wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger. She was probably sorting out what lie to tell him. "What about him?" she said finally, her eyes fell sharply to her lap and stayed there. She'd only lied to him a handful of times, but she could never look at him when she did.

"Don't," he said rolling his eyes like she'd done earlier. "I know, okay, I saw you with him. On the map."

She reached behind her head and began twisting her hair into a tight bun.

"Did you hear me, Hermione? I saw you with him. More than once."

"Yes, I heard you!" she snapped. Her face looked guilty and embarrassed. "Its over," she said, her voice so low he almost didn't hear, "okay? So you can stop worrying."

"Are you sure?" he wanted to let her off the hook, but he just couldn't. "It's really over?"

"Yes, Harry, okay? It's over. I don't want to talk about it." Her voice became shaky and Harry felt suddenly guilty himself. The two sat in silence for a while, both staring straight ahead unsure about what to say next. Harry hoped she wouldn't start crying. He wouldn't know what to do if she cried. "Are you okay?" he asked after a while. He wasn't really sure he wanted the answer.

"Yeah, I'm fine. A little embarrassed really. I'd convinced myself he wasn't a complete son-of-a-bitch, but I was wrong. He's just as bad as we always thought." She looked at him, her eyes begging for something. Probably comfort. Harry felt strange. Like his throat was closing. Hermione had always been responsible, level-headed. She'd never needed his comfort before.

"What happened?" he heard himself say.

And she surprised them both by telling him. The whole story. Everything about what really happened in Australia, their detentions, in the stables, and then the attack in the empty classroom.

"See what I've gotten myself into Harry? I've slept with him and now I don't even want to look at him!"

Harry was shocked that things had been going on for so long. He'd thought the potion had fixed things. And about the other day in the classroom, he knew what that probably was. A relapse. Malfoy probably wasn't trying to hurt her; he was probably having another relapse. Harry felt sick. He was going to have to stand up for Malfoy.

"Hermione, there's something you should know about Malfoy. I don't think he was trying to hurt you the other day."

Her response was immediate and defiant. "What do you think then? I was asking for it? I should have just done what he wanted?"

"No, Hermione," he put his hands up in surrender, "he was probably having a ree–" his tongue felt flabby, lax. He cleared his throat. "A re- re- relaammp." His tongue fell out of his mouth onto his chin.

"What? A relamp? Harry what are you talking about?" She looked confused and a little annoyed.

Harry growled. He wanted to tell her so badly, but the stupid wizard's oath was not allowing it. He babbled for a few more minutes before Hermione started getting really irritated. "I just told you that I was attacked and you're making fun of it?"

Harry shook his head violently. You were given a lust potion! Malfoy had a relapse! He wanted so desperately to say the words. "No Hermione, I want to tell you something but I can't." An idea popped into his head. "Give me your quill."

She looked skeptical, but found a quill in her bag and handed it over. At this point Hermione didn't know what to think. She saw him dip the quill in an ink-pot and focus his hand on her parchment. His face was a little red and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow. She watched as he dragged his hand across the page.

In scratchy writing, it read:

Lump Porker

Long Problem

Lush Poem

Love Poison

Harry cheered in triumph and circled the last phrase. The wizard's oath wouldn't even let him write it correctly, but this was pretty close.

"Love poison? What do you mean, Harry? Why can't you tell me?"

He tried to answer but his mouth slammed shut and refused to open.

"What's love poison?"

Harry shrugged. Apparently, if you mess with a wizard's oath long enough, it will glue your mouth shut. He wondered how long it would last.

"Maybe, it's not love poison." Hermione was trying to solve this problem with her usual methodical approach. "Maybe it just sounds like love poison. Is that right, Harry?"

He nodded grinning, "Mmmmm."

"Are either of these words right?"

He nodded his head. Love is almost right, he thought.

"Is it love or poison?"

Harry made a sound.

"Love?" she guessed.

Harry shook his head, he couldn't control it. Stupid oath.

"Oh, poison then?"

He nodded.

At this point, Harry's face was beet red and he threw his hands up in frustration. "Mmmmm mmm mmmmm!" he grumbled and walked out of the room. He was beginning to feel light headed from lack of oxygen and Hermione was smart; she'd figure it out eventually.

"It's alright Harry; I can see you are sworn not to tell me. I'll figure this out."

Her confidence was reassuring.

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On Monday morning, Draco stood outside of the Potions lab as the other students trickled in for class. He was waiting for Hermione. He wouldn't get to talk to her, that much he knew, but he would still try. Ever since the relapse incident, she'd been avoiding him. He couldn't blame her; she probably hated him. Hell, he hated himself.

He heard her before he saw her. She was laughing. Someone else was making her laugh. She and Anthony Goldsteinappeared from around the corner, engrossed in a lively discussion. They were both laughing and Draco just stood there awkwardly as the couple passed without even noticing him. He was jealous. Not that she liked Anthony, he knew that wasn't the case, she'd been arriving at every class lately with a different escort. No, he was jealous that Anthony could walk her to class, joke with her, touch her. He saw Anthony wrap his arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture. On second thought, maybe Draco was just plain jealous. In fact, he was most definitely jealous.

Anthony should really think about moving his arm before something happens to it.

Draco pushed off the wall and followed the pair into class. He chose the seat behind them and tried to catch her attention. She never turned around. Snape arrived only a few minutes later and class began.

They weren't brewing today. It was a lecture. Draco stared off into space as Snape spoke of ingredients and properties. Waiting for Hermione before and after class wasn't his only attempt to talk to her. He'd been sending owls, notes, even messages on their message rings, but none were answered. Some of his letters even came back unopened. He considered sending a howler ordering her to meet with him, but decided that would make her even angrier.

He'd thought a lot about what Pansy had said, about the bloodline problem, and he was inclined to agree with her, but he couldn't just leave Hermione alone. What happened if he had another relapse? He remembered the look of fear on her face when he'd tried to force himself on her and wasn't especially eager to see it again. Luckily, he hadn't been sexually aroused since that day. Every time he started getting horny, he remembered what happened and it served as a cold bucket of water on his libido. But he wasn't sure how long that would last. Eventually he would relapse again, and he needed to be prepared.

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Draco rubbed his tired eyes. He couldn't stand to read another book. Especially one with such small print. Researching wasn't doing any good anyway. He'd been trying to find a way to control his relapses, but so far, the only thing he could come up with was taking the Mind Wipe again. And he really didn't want to do that. It was selfish, but he didn't want to forget about Hermione again. He thought about the way he used to treat her, insulting and embarrassing her whenever he had the chance; he didn't want to be that person again.

Hermione would know what to do. He wished she had her memories so she could come up with a solution. Of course if she had her memories, they might not need a solution. He smirked at that thought, and then corrected himself. She wasn't likely to talk to him anytime soon.

He pulled out a parchment and a quill.

Dear Hermione,

I would very much like to apologize to you in person, but if that is impossible, please know that I deeply and sincerely regret my actions.

I have something very important to tell you. It's about that day. I promise, I am not making excuses for myself, but this is something you need to know. I will be in the library all night in case you should like to talk.

Yours,

Draco

After rolling up the parchment and sealing it with his wand, he stood up from his book-littered desk to go up to the owlry.

Draco sat in the library for hours until Madame Pince kicked him out for curfew. Hermione hadn't come. He felt let down, he'd let himself believe that she might actually show. He found some comfort in that his letter hadn't been sent back to him unopened.

On his long walk back to Slytherin, he realized Hermione would never talk to him on her own accord. An idea sprouted in his mind and when he finally reached his bed, he was feeling much happier.

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It was during Potions when Draco started acting like a nutter. Hermione and Padma had arrived just as class began and sat at the open table in the front of the room. Hermione scanned the room, like she always did, for Draco, and relaxed a little when she saw he wasn't there. In the back of her mind, she hoped he wasn't sick.

Professor Snape had just begun the lesson when Draco burst into the room in what appeared to be a fury.

"GRANGER!" he yelled, marching right up to her table and dropping a ratty looking text book in front of her. "YOU RUINED MY BOOK ON PURPOSE!"

Hermione's face went pale. Draco looked really mad. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she said, shaking her head innocently.

"Oh, really?" Draco said, turning to Professor Snape, "Last night Granger begged to borrow my Potions book, she said she lost hers, and this is the state it's returned to me!" He held up the book flipping through the shredded pages.

At this point Hermione was nearly struck speechless. She hadn't seen Draco last night at all much less ask to borrow his book. She was insulted that he would even suggest she might lose her book.

Snape looked bored. He rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently. "Are you finished, Mr. Malfoy?"

"NO! I want Granger to buy me a new book!" He slammed the book back onto the table.

Snape shrugged. "Buy Mr. Malfoy a new book, Miss Granger," he drawled.

"What? Professor, I assure you, I absolutely didn't do this to Malfoy's book. Look, my book is right here, it's not lost." Hermione pulled her pristine book out of her bag and held it up for Snape to see.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, looking completely unconvinced, "are you suggesting Mr. Malfoy made this story up?"

"YES!"

Snape approached her desk with one of his characteristic evil smirks. "And what reason would he have to destroy his own text book?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. She couldn't think of a reason. "I don't know. He's a moron?"

"That will be fifteen points from Gryffindor for insulting your classmate and detention for destroying his personal property." He looked satisfied with himself; he was probably glad for the chance to take points from Gryffindor.

"But Professor –" She tried to protest but he cut her off.

"Would you like to make it 30 points?"

She didn't answer. She just sat there stewing in her own rage.

"Thanks professor," Draco said, taking the only remaining available seat, right behind Hermione.

Snape went back to the front of the class. "Don't thank me," he said, "You also have detention, for being late."

Draco grinned. He couldn't help it. Snape had reacted exactly like he'd hoped.

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Hermione ambled down the halls on her way to detention. She wasn't particularly eager to spend an evening alone with Draco. Snape always found some atrocious task for students to do and never stuck around to watch. He probably couldn't be arsed to spend his evenings monitoring students disemboweling toads. He had better things to do like prowling the halls and taking points from Gryffindor.

She'd considered going to McGonagall to contest her detention, but decided against it. There really wasn't any proof that she hadn't destroyed Draco's book, and also, she knew what he was up to. He wanted to talk to her. She'd been avoiding him for so long that he did what was necessary to get her alone.

In a way, she wanted to hear what he had to say. He'd been so persistently owling her that she felt guilty not responding. And in his last letter he'd said something else that piqued her curiosity. He'd said: I have something very important to tell you. It's about that day…this is something you need to know. She wondered if he really had something to tell her or if it was just another attempt to get her to talk to him. Either way, she wanted the awkwardness to end. At least in detention, he wasn't likely to do anything crazy.

When she got to Snape's classroom, Draco was already there. Snape informed her that they would be harvesting usable ingredients from dead lizards. That meant she would have to gouge out the eyes and remove the feet, heart, and tongue. She was grateful the creatures were already dead. She was also grateful that Snape sat her and Draco at separate tables.

"I will be just beyond that door marking essays," Snape said after he confiscated their wands. "Any noise and I'll be forced to come back. Let me be clear, you don't want that to happen."

Hermione believed him. As Snape's office door closed behind him, Hermione set to the task at hand. She grabbed a long brown lizard out of the crate-full on her table and began slicing open its belly. Thick yellowish ooze seeped out onto her fingers. The smell was awful, like rotting eggs, and she couldn't help but gag.

She heard Draco move at the table behind her. His chair made a scratching sound on the stone floor as he pushed it out. She didn't look back to see what he was doing. Then she heard a small clack as he set something down next to her and went back to his seat.

She looked at the small jar he'd left, unsure of what it was.

"It's for the smell, just a little under your nose should do it." His voice sounded insecure, so unlike his normal tone.

"Thanks," she said, unscrewing the lid and dipping her finger into the clear gel. She dotted a small amount in front of each nostril and instantly could smell nothing. Relieved, she was able to finish the lizard quickly and before long she'd finished several.

She heard Draco's chair again. Then she felt him sit down next to her. She scooted her chair as far away from him as she could before he spoke. "I'm sorry for getting you stuck in detention."

Hermione arched a brow skeptically. Sure you are.

"I just really needed to talk to you."

She stayed quiet, his nearness was unnerving. She noticed she was chopping the feet off her lizard a little more aggressively than necessary. It seemed Draco noticed too.

"Do you want me to move? Further away, I mean."

Hermione once again didn't answer, but he scooted his chair a little away from her anyway.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable….any more than I've already done." He sounded so sincere and kind of sad. Hermione found herself hoping he'd keep talking.

For a while, he just sat there watching her. She tossed the lizard she'd been working on into the bucket of waste and chose a new one from the crate. "I hope you'll believe me when I tell you, I'm sorry. About what happened that day. It was such a terrible misunderstanding. And the whole thing could have been avoided if I'd just told you before."

Told me what? A misunderstanding? She wanted to question him, but she'd been silent for so long now that she felt strange breaking it. Instead, she pried open the mouth of the lizard in her hand and pulled out the tongue in preparation to remove it.

"Could you please stop that," Draco said a little impatiently, "I really need you to look at me."

Hermione froze and contemplated ignoring him before slowly dropping her scalpel and lizard onto the table. She turned to him, her heart pounding nervously. His skin was whiter than she remembered and his eyes looked fiercely concerned. He gave a half smile and ran his hand through his hair in a way that made him look both ashamed and handsome. She noticed he didn't have any lizard guts on his hands.

"I'm so sorry. For scaring you, for acting that way, for all of it. I am so ashamed. Could you please forgive me?"

His eyes were begging hers and for some reason, it felt like all of the air had left the room. "I don't know," she heard herself say.

His eyes twitched and he waited for her to continue.

She decided looking at him was a little too awkward and turned her head away. "I can say you're forgiven, but I don't know if it will change anything. I still hate what you did."

"I hate it too, but I have to tell you something about that. It will all make sense and I think you will feel better about the whole thing once you know." His voice became urgent. "We took a memory potion once and it made us forget some things that happened earlier this year."

There was a moment where Hermione sat with a wrinkled brow. Of all the things she expected to come out of Draco's mouth, this was the most unlikely. "A memory potion? Who took one?" She couldn't think of any reason why she would willingly take a memory potion.

"We did, you and me. Back before the Christmas holidays. And it made us forget about the things we did before that."

She was struggling to understand what he was saying. "Why would we do that? You and I didn't even start getting along until the end of January."

He snorted. "Well, we weren't getting a long, but we were having s–" he stopped for a second and smiled, "some fun together."

Hermione was never known for her patience and now he was testing her beyond her limits. "Can you just spit it out? Why did we take the memory potion?"

"We wanted to stop the relapses. From the lust potion. They were very inconvenient and the only way to stop them was to get rid of the memories."

"What memories? What lust potion? I thought we were talking about a memory potion." Hermione had so many questions, but couldn't get them all out. She felt like she was being tricked. Draco, after all, wasn't the most reliable source of information.

Draco growled, frustrated. He'd done this all wrong. He'd wanted to tell her slowly, explaining everything so she would understand. "I'll be right back," he said suddenly, pushing back from his seat and rushing out of the room.

Hermione was left utterly confused and a little bit annoyed. He's leaving? "Wait, Draco– " but it was too late. The door to the classroom was already closed behind him. And while she sat there with only dead lizards for company, she tried to make sense of what he'd told her.

According to him they'd taken a lust potion and a memory potion, and it all tied in together to what happened the other day. She didn't really see what any of this had to do with him apologizing.

Before she had time to piece anything together, Draco was back, carrying a glass of what appeared to be clear-yellow liquid.

He was acting so strangely. He'd left to get a drink? "Draco, I think I'm going to need you to start over. I don't really understand what you are trying to tell me."

"I know you don't," he said, setting the glass down in front of her. "Drink this."

And in case you forgot, because the last update to this story was half a year ago, cat urine is the antidote to the Mind Wipe potion.