Author's Note: Thanks again for your continued support and I really am sorry for the delayed updating. If anyone wants an email sent to them when a new chapter is uploaded, say so in a review, and I'll do that for you. I've loved hearing your thoughts about what's coming up in the story. Keep 'em coming, and a million words of thanks and hugs ….

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CHAPTER VIII

Hermione silently gathered together her Divination books and made her way towards the place where she and Malfoy had agreed to meet. Before leaving, she sat on the edge of her bed, thinking about the day's events. Why had she spoken so harshly to Ron, she wondered, it couldn't have anything to do with the potion Malfoy had given her, could it?

Still emerged in her thoughts, Hermione slipped out of the Gryffindor common room and walked through the now-deserted corridors of Hogwarts until she came to a barely-lit room. This was where she was to meet her partner. Hermione poked her head inside the door, which lay barely open; and, seeing that she was the first to arrive, entered the room and took a seat on one of the back rows.

She sat and waited and after what seemed ten minutes, heard faint footsteps stalking towards the room in which she was waiting. A few moments later, the dark figure of Malfoy appeared in the doorway, his body framed by the light of the torch that he held. She could barely see his face, yet she could tell that he was flushed from running.

"I'm sorry," he growled as he walked towards her, "damn first-years wandering the castle at this time of night." Hermione inwardly laughed, if there was one thing she would never expect from Malfoy, this was it : accepting proper responsibility. She moved over on the bench she was sitting on, to allow him room to sit beside her. As he did so, he lingered by her shoulder; one leg over the bench. Hermione suddenly noticed this and drew her body away from his. No, she decided, she was completely in control of herself.

Self-consciously, Hermione looked at her books which lay on the table and briefly wondered where Malfoy's were. He had not put any on the desk, and when she thought about it, she wasn't certain as to whether he had carried any into the room with him.

"Right, I think we should start on the assignment," Hermione said boldly, looking into Malfoy's eyes as she turned to face him. Turning her head back to what she was doing, Hermione lifted the heaviest book, which lay on the top of the pile. As she did this, she accidentally caught her chin on the edge of the hardback book. Instantly she raised her hand to the bottom of her face, where a small red mark had appeared.

She hadn't realised that Malfoy had noticed this, a sly smirk playing across his lips. "Here," he said gently, "let me make it better for you." Against her better judgement, Hermione allowed Malfoy to shift over so that the two teenagers were only a few centimetres away from each other. Bending his head down, he kissed her gently on the red mark. His touch against her skin surprised her once again, and Hermione closed her eyes, blissfully.

Slowly Malfoy began to raise his head, kissing just below her lips. Hermione breathed out slowly, opening her eyes. Did she really want to do this? she thought, even though she knew, in her heart, that she wouldn't be able to stop it. Eventually, she felt Malfoy's cool lips against her own and gasped.

Hermione kissed Malfoy back and began to run her fingers through Malfoy's smooth blond hair. She pulled him closer to her, clenching the material at the back of his robes. Gradually, she drew away from him, lowering her head to look at her hands. Surprisingly, she didn't feel all that bad about kissing her enemy; in a strange way, it felt almost perfect.

Malfoy sat opposite her; waiting to see what Hermione's next move would be. He wasn't completely sure if the potion had worked; he had only had the earlier Divination lesson to go by. Malfoy watched Hermione as she lowered her head, her cheeks reddening from what he supposed would be embarrassment. After a minute or so, he spoke.

"Are you okay?" he asked, surprised the genuine concern he felt when he asked the question.

"Malfoy," Hermione whispered, looking back at his face, "what happened that night, before I fell unconscious?" Her voice faltered as she completed the question, searching Malfoy's eyes. The room filled with silence; Malfoy, it seemed, was either unwilling to admit had happened or was thinking about how best to explain it.

"Nothing," he answered, "I gave you a drink, as you asked, and then you fell off your stool and banged your head on the floor." Hermione looked at him suspiciously, that can't have been all that happened, she thought. But, she reasoned, she had no proof that suggested otherwise. No one else was around that night.

Hermione decided to let the subject drop for now; they had work to do. Attempting to get on with the assignment again, Hermione shuffled away from Malfoy and opened two of her books. She began to read the long descriptions which she found in the book, aware of Malfoy's watchful eyes on her face.

Suddenly she stopped reading aware of Malfoy's breath on the side of her face, "What are you doing?" she scowled, glaring at him. Malfoy jumped, subtlety, obviously surprised by her quick mood change. He moved back and studied the lines in the wood of the desk at which they sat.

Hermione sighed, it didn't seem as though they were going to get a lot of work done this evening. She could still feel Malfoy's touch against her own skin and, as much as she tried to reason with herself, she knew that she was powerless against him. "I think we should stop here; lets carry on tomorrow," she said abruptly, a sudden moment of decisiveness taking over here, "meet you here at this time, tomorrow night."

She got up to leave, placing her hands on the table, ready to pick up her books. As she lifted her legs over the bench, she felt Malfoy's warm hand resting on hers. "Till then," he whispered softly, running his fingertips up her arm. She pulled her arm away, confused by her mixed feelings; some of guilt, some of pleasure; before turning and walking rapidly out of the room.

Hermione didn't look back as she ran from back towards her common room, even though she had a feeling that Malfoy wouldn't follow her. When she neared the Gryffindor area, Hermione slowed down and memories of the last fifteen minutes returned to her. She shuddered, whenever she was around Malfoy, something strange always came over her; clouding her judgement and affecting her ability to make sense of situations.

Hermione made her way up to her dormitory and sank into the bedcovers, covering her face with her pillow. Why had she said that she would meet him late at night again? She thought, punching her mattress angrily.

The next day Hermione awoke and as she made her way down the stairs, she became aware of Ron's presence at her side. Turning her to face him, he spoke; "What happened that night, Hermione, I'm really worried." Hermione looked into her friends eyes; they were full of concern for her. She felt her heart fill with compassion; if only she knew, herself, what had happened.

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione tried to brush off the question, "I just tripped and banged my head on the floor." She knew this wasn't what Ron wanted to know; he wanted to know whether or not she had taken a potion. "No," she said, decidedly, looking him in the eyes, "I didn't take any potion when I was with Malfoy." She skipped down the rest of the stairs, rather hurriedly, and walked towards the Great Hall.

She managed to avoid her two friends for the remainder of the day; spending her lunch time sitting on her bed, thinking over what she had arranged with Malfoy for that night. As the time drew nearer, Hermione considered not going. How easy, she thought, it would be just to avoid going, and give Malfoy some excuse as to why she didn't make it. Discarding this idea, Hermione gathered together her books again and retraced her steps from the previous night.

Once again, she found that she was the first to arrive and, walking further into the room, sat on a different row to where they had sat the previous night. Slowly, Hermione ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes in frustration. I will not let Malfoy control me, she thought angrily.

Presently, footsteps could be heard from outside the classroom, and Malfoy's head appeared from around the corner. He sauntered slowly to the desk and as they, once again, sat next to each other, neither teenager was aware of a pair of watchful eyes by the door.

Silently Ron watched them, hidden by his friend's invisibility cloak; he had let his curiosity get the better of him and had followed her in the hope of finding out more about Hermione's strange behaviour. Both he and Harry had known of Hermione's research into the love potions that Malfoy might use. He hadn't, however, given the matter any more thought, until now.

After the incident in the Divination lesson, Ron had thought that this had something to do with Malfoy's potion. But, he had realised later, that if Hermione was under the influence of Malfoy's potion, the way in which she spoke to her friends shouldn't have been affected. Hermione had snapped at himself and Harry, for no apparent reason, a number of times since that incident, he had remembered.

He had told Harry of his concerns, but his friend had brushed them off, labelling them mood-swings. Ron, although seemingly letting the subject lie, was unsatisfied, and had decided to investigate himself. Harry had had to see Professor McGonagall that evening and Ron, seeing his chance, had taken Harry's cloak and had followed Hermione as she left the Gryffindor common room to meet Malfoy.

Following her down one dark corridor after another, Ron had walked, covered by the cloak. Hermione had stopped and turned, looking exactly through him. Each time this had happened, Ron had held his breath, although he didn't know why he had done this; she wouldn't be able to see or hear him.

Eventually, Hermione had stepped into a room at the end of a long corridor. Slipping through the door after her, Ron stood, waiting, in the corner of the room. Ron witnessed Malfoy's arrival and his eyes widened as he slid next to Hermione at the desk. He could feel his blood rising, the ease and confidence of Malfoy as he slipped onto the bench next to her was astounding. How could he be so sure of himself, wondered Ron.

He could, even from a distance, sense Hermione's anxiousness. She seemed, for once, unsure of herself, not knowing what to do. Malfoy's eyes were cool and glinted in the dim light as he watched her intently. Hermione, during this time, was looking distractedly at her books and fumbling with the pages.

Ron watched as Malfoy lifted his hand, cupping Hermione's chin in his palm and twisting her head so that she was facing him. Quickly he captured her lips with his, drawing her into a deep kiss. Ron's first instinct was to run to the two teenagers and to pull them apart, but he remained standing in the corner, staring in disbelief at the centre of the room.

"I predict that next week, my partner and I will be spending a lot more time together," Malfoy smirked, breaking the kiss. Hermione inhaled deeply; turning her eyes back to the books on the table.

Hermione opened up a page and read aloud the positions of various planets in the next few days. She could feel Malfoy's eyes intently staring at the side of her head, and tried desperately to ignore it. Giving in, Hermione sighed, raised her head and stared into the silver-blue eyes that lay before her.

Ron, feeling a sudden pain in his stomach, turned and left the room in disgust. So, that was what was happening between Hermione and Malfoy, he thought, running back in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. He didn't fully understand what was happening, but he had seen enough.

Back in the classroom, the two students had broken the silence. "Well, Malfoy … should we start on the homework?" Hermione offered. Malfoy's attention was distracted. He glanced around the room nervously, before swivelling his body around to face the small girl in front of him.

"Hermione, I need you to do something for me." Although his eyes darted precariously around the room, the tone of his voice remained arrogant and teasing. Intrigued, Hermione looked up, not allowing any sound to pass her lips. "My father," Malfoy continued, realising that she was not going to reply yet, "well, my father beats me at home." Malfoy's voice faltered as he finished his sentence.

Malfoy, having finished his sentence, immediately searched the face of Hermione. He did not know that Hermione already knew this, having already told her when she was in the form of Pansy. Hermione's face contorted with worry, for the second time.

"Draco," Hermione gasped, "I had no idea." Hermione held her breath, as she awaited a response from Malfoy, had she made it too obvious? Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione watched as Malfoy bent his head low over the table, resting it on his hands. "What do you want me to do, Draco?" she soothed.

"I'm not sure; I just need someone who'll be there for me, you know, when I need to talk." Malfoy replied, talking many breaths in between words. He was no longer facing her and did not see the look of confusion that flushed across Hermione's face. What could she possibly do, Hermione thought.

"Of course I'll be there for you Draco; if you ever need someone to be near just come to me," Hermione answered, without thinking. It was almost as if the words had just come out of her mouth at their own will. Had she been able to see Malfoy's pale face, she would have seen a sly smile cross his lips, which may have helped her to understand.