Author's Note: The previous chapter has been replaced with one that doesn't have an error in it. I'm slowly getting round to posting all this, but it's going pretty slowly. Thanks for your continued interest and I really do appreciate all you have to say. Any more little mistakes, please let me know.

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CHAPTER VII

The next few days were spent peacefully enough; Hermione spent days in lessons and he evenings in the company of either her friends or Malfoy. Since the incident during the Potions lesson, Hermione had looked at Malfoy in a completely different light, yet she still questioned as to whether the potion could be trusted.

The next Quidditch match had been arranged and the date was set for the first week of October. This time, Slytherin were to play Ravenclaw. Although both teams were good, it seemed common knowledge that Slytherin would win. As a result, each night, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team could be seen hovering on their broomsticks on the school field.

The last day of September drew nearer and, when the day finally came, she sat down with her two best friends and finalised her plan. A few years beforehand she had researched into the particular love potion that she thought Malfoy would be most likely to use. There had been three; one was orange and lasted only a few hours; another was pink and would continue to work for a week. The final potion had been a deathly black colour and did not have a specific time period. Lasts between one to six months, the label had said.

After careful consideration, Hermione decided again this last potion; surely Malfoy wouldn't want all that uncertainty, she had argued. Instead, she had convinced herself that he was most likely to use the pink potion; a week, she had reasoned, would give Malfoy enough time to complete his plan.

Following this decision, she had read up all she could on the potion; discovered the way in which it worked, found out it's exact colour, and how it should be made. Her plan had been to replicated a similar mixture, that looked exactly the same as the love potion, but would not affect her in any way. With much help from one of the Hogwarts house-elves, Dobby, Hermione had made a mixture of grapefruit juice and food colourings. The mixture looked exactly the same shade of pink as the potion and Hermione was sure that Malfoy wouldn't notice any difference. The only problem she would have, she remembered, would be to distract Malfoy from looking at her, so that she could switch the two mixtures.

Hermione had received earlier that day, and invitation to meet Malfoy in one of the unused classrooms in the East Wing of the castle. Meet me to discuss the Yule Ball, Malfoy had written. Hermione and her friends, however, knew Malfoy's real plan for this meeting, and by this time, were well prepared.

A few minutes to ten o'clock, Hermione left the confines of the Gryffindor common room and made her way towards the designated meeting place. She had worn only a thin shirt and trousers under her thick black robe and shivered as the cold air hit her. She had hidden the small flask containing the harmless pink mixture in an inside pocket that she had sewn onto her robe.

Stepping into the dark classroom, lit only by a few torches at the far end, she saw a tall dark shadow standing alone in front of the glass window. The figure was illuminated by the light coming from the full moon. The silver light shone off Draco's head, highlighting his own silver-blond hair. He was standing with his back to her and was, it seemed, completely unaware of her presence.

Hermione shifted awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do. "Thanks for coming," a slow voice came from the figure. Hermione froze; he couldn't have known she was there, she thought, yet, there was something in his voice; that sounded so lost, so alone.

Hermione began to walk towards where Malfoy stood. Within a few steps, she found herself standing directly behind the figure of Malfoy, a sudden overwhelming urge to gather him into her arms again overcame here, before he spoke again.

"I made some plans that we should discuss." He turned to look at her, "what are you staring at?" His sneering comments were back, and Hermione sighed as she followed him to the front of the classroom. Pulling up a seat beside him, Hermione peered over his shoulder at the small piece of parchment, on which Malfoy had written a few notes. Scanning the rest of the table, she furrowed her brow in confusion; there was no potion to be seen.

"So, what do you think?" Malfoy's voice interrupted her thoughts. Glancing back at the piece of paper, Hermione quickly read the words Malfoy had scrawled on it. Theme ~ Famous wizards, he had written. Hermione pondered over this thought; she wasn't sure that Malfoy had some underlying plan when he had thought this up.

"Well," she said, after some thought, "it seems good. We'd have to get it checked through with Dumbledore though. What about decorations and everything?" The two Head students sat, discussing for the Ball for the next few hours, until Hermione began to feel her eyelids droop. The next day was Sunday, and the students had no lessons, and Hermione was convinced that she would not cut off the meeting before Malfoy, too, was tired.

Eventually, Malfoy offered her a drink, making Hermione sit up, eyes widened. She watched as he drew out a long bottle and a small glass. "It's a mixture of peach and Cochgrayne juice," he explained, misinterpreting Hermione's surprised look. He handed her the glass, watching her eagerly, and she took it, looking at it carefully in the dim light. Hermione's heart sank; the potion was neither orange, pink or black, but was green and shimmered with streaks of blue flashing across it.

Deciding that the only thing she could do in the circumstances would be to drink it, Hermione raised the glass to her lips and allowed it to flow into her mouth. She gulped it down; the drink was remarkably refreshing, and made her feel light and floaty. Hermione shook her head; what was happening? She felt so strange. She felt a pair of strong arms around her, and forced her eyes open, only to find that she was lying on the floor looking into the earnest face of Draco Malfoy.

His words came to her as though said from a distance, yet they were repeated inside her head. "Hermione Granger," he said, in his slow drawl, "you have now totally fallen for me, and whatever Potter or Weasley may say, you will defend me and grow to love me." When he had finished speaking, Hermione felt her head drop back and come into contact with the cold concrete surface of the ground.

"Hermione. Hermione. Can you hear me?" A warm voice came floating to her ears. Where was she? Why couldn't she lift her head. Slowly Hermione opened her eyes; half-expecting to find herself still in the arms of Malfoy. She was greeted, however, with the sight of Madam Pomfrey, Harry and Ron, all looking down at her with anxious faces.

"Oh, thank god! She's alive," she heard Ron's relieved voice, "I thought you were dead."

"Where …. am …. I?" Hermione's words came slowly; it hurt to speak. She listened intently as Madam Pomfrey told her how Malfoy had carried her to the hospital wing in the early hours of the morning, claiming she had slipped and banged her head against the floor. "When?" Hermione could only manage the one word. She quickly learnt that it was only the afternoon of the following day; making her unconscious for only half the day.

"Malfoy, that …." Ron's irritated voice could be heard from the side of her bed. "Why, when I get my hands on him …."

"No, Draco was helping me, we were talking about the Yule Ball." Yes that was right," Hermione remembered, they had been in the classroom; she had taken the drink; and then what….?" Hermione wracked her brains trying to remember how she had banged her head. No recollection, however, came to her and she closed her eyes, tired from concentration.

As their friend feel asleep, Harry and Ron looked at each other, it was unusual for Hermione to call Malfoy by his first name, in fact, they thought in unison, she had never called him that before. Leaving Hermione in peace, the two boys left the hospital wing and, once in the corridor, began to talk in hushed voices.

"Okay, there's something strange going on," Harry said to Ron, "why would she call him Draco? Did the plan go wrong?" Ron shrugged; neither boy knew the answer and they would have to wait until Hermione was well again until they could find out her side of the story.

Hermione fell back asleep, weary from attempting to remember what had happened to her. In her dreamless sleep and she could hear a voice; Hermione, Hermione; are you awake, the voice said loudly. This couldn't be part of her dream, she thought. Slowly she forced her eyes to open and, as they adjusted to the sudden light, a pale head came into focus.

Malfoy! She realised with a gasp. She felt her mouth drop open; he actually look concerned for her, and his eyes were redden as though he had been crying.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Malfoy's voice was full of concern. As he bent his head over hers to look into her eyes, his hair fell forwards and she could feel it tickling the top of her nose. Hermione held her breath, he was so close; his breath was intoxicating.

Slowly, she breathed out, as Malfoy gently kissed her on forehead. She closed her eyes, remembering the nights she had gone to the Slytherin common room, before reminding herself that she couldn't let on that that was her.

"What happened Draco?" she asked, breathlessly. She still wasn't sure as to why she had banged her head, and she felt certain that Malfoy wouldn't give her an honest answer but at that moment, she just wanted to hear him speak.

"Well," he replied slowly, "you fell, I tried to catch you but I was too slow; when you hit your head, I brought you here." It was a good excuse, thought Hermione, now, if only she could remember what had really happened.

"I bet you did," raising her eyebrows as she spoke to Malfoy, surprised at her sarcasm. Malfoy, however, didn't seem too shocked; instead he grinned down at her. Quickly he raised her fingers to his lips, kissed the ends of them, before laying them down and walking through the door of the hospital wing.

Hermione lay there, stunned into silence. What had just happened? She hadn't been able to stop herself from retorting that way to Malfoy, and he had just kissed her hand, Malfoy had just kissed the hand of a Gryffindor Muggle-born. Strange things were going on.

Later that day, in time for Divination lesson, Hermione was allowed to leave the hospital wing, and she made her way quickly to the classroom.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Hermione snarled angrily as she sat down next to Ron. He and Harry had been whispering to themselves and had become silent when she had approached their desk. "I do not appreciate being talked about behind my back." With that, Hermione sat on her chair; her arms folded and her face wrinkled in fury.

Ron blinked; it wasn't like Hermione to talk like this, unless he and Harry had done something to upset her greatly. Giving Harry one last glance, Ron let the subject slide and concentrated on what Professor Trelawney was predicting for Harry's future. He laughed as the teacher, in a low voice, said, "You'd better watch out Harry. I fear ill tidings will come the way of you and those closest to you." He suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his ribs and turned to see Hermione glowering at him.

"What?!?" he asked, raising his eyebrows to protest his innocence.

"Trust a Weasley to laugh at something like that," Hermione retorted. Her words were scorning and Ron felt his ears redden, shocked by her harsh tone. He realised, with a start, that the classroom seemed very quiet and he drew his eyes away from the face of Hermione and saw that the entire class was looking at their row of desks. The Slytherins, who sat on the opposite of the room, were staring, wide-eyed and gleefully, in their direction. One Slytherin, in particular, looked very pleased with himself, but Ron did not see this.

Eventually, Professor Trelawney managed to retain the student's attention and explained the homework assignment she was setting for them; to predict each other's forecasts for the following week. Professor Trelawney proceeded to pick partners for each students, assigning them all a partner who was not in their immediate friendship-group. Harry was paired up with a small Slytherin girl who he had never spoken to before; Ron was matched with Millicent Bulstrode; and Hermione, much to Ron an Harry's disgust, was paired with Malfoy. From across the room, Ron could see a strange sparkle in Malfoy's eyes; what had happened that night?! Ron thought for the hundredth time.