Us After This

by RZZMG

Theo Nott & Draco Malfoy want Hermione Granger. When she deals with one to teach her about sex, how will the other handle it? How will a Time-Turner,a fatal illness,an ex-,an Azkaban breakout & some old spells change the future? A/U 7th yr. HOT SHAGGING!

5. Chapters 9 and 10

CHAPTER NINE: UNEXPECTED

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

Friday, November 7, 1997 - Sunday, November 9, 1997

Teddy watched Hermione and Draco enter Friday morning's Advanced Potions Lecture hand-in-hand and felt that increasingly regular pain in his heart stab away at him, and he cursed under his breath. After vowing not to get too close to Granger again, Teddy had made the mistake of being flirty and a little overly friendly with her last night, and now he was paying the piper for such foolishness.

Really, what the hell had he expected? He knew the score. Granger was Drake's, and he was a fucking lousy friend for even entertaining 'what-ifs' and 'if onlys' in regards to her.

He turned and plopped down on a stool at one of the tables and opened his satchel to take out his notebook, quill and inkpot. To his surprise, Harry Potter appeared at his elbow. "Can I sit here?" the young dark-haired man asked, indicating the empty seat to Teddy's right.

"Sure," Teddy nodded, looking about and noticing that Ronald Weasley was nowhere to be found. "Where's your friend today?"

Harry was rummaging through his book bag and didn't look at him as he replied. "Ron's in hospital with a head cold."

Normally Teddy could have cared less, but today, he felt the need for some conversation to take his mind off of the happy couple who were seating themselves at the empty table to his left. Keeping his face averted from Drake and Hermione as he addressed Potter helped somewhat to distract. "How'd he catch that then? Practicing Quidditch without a hat?"

Potter smirked and chuffed. "More like practicing snogging Lavender Brown in the wind without a scarf. The fool snuck out late last night to the East Bridge to meet her and came back early this morning with a fever and sore throat." Harry looked up at him and chuckled. "He says it was worth it."

Teddy couldn't help the good-humored smirk that crept up his face. "A day out of classes and some major lip action with a total babe? I'd have taken that bet myself."

Harry nodded, his grin wicked. "Yeah, me too."

After that, and to Teddy's general amazement, he found the conversation between he and Potter flowed quite naturally and friendly until Slughorn entered the room and the class quieted down as one to take the day's notes. As Teddy looked out of the corner of his eye at Potter he realized he'd have to re-evaluate his suppositions about the guy. For one, Harry seemed a-okay, if not a bit too honest and casual in his divulging of personal information (no Slytherin worth their weight would ever have given as much away about themselves and their friends so quickly, especially with someone they hardly knew). Two, Harry was a genuinely charming person by nature. It was easy to see how he'd made such easy friends with more than half the school over the last seven years. And three, he was Hermione's best male friend, and that recommendation now meant more to him than just about any other.

When class ended, Harry turned to him. "Care to partner for Transfig Lab today?" he asked somewhat cautiously, referring to their shared two o'clock class. Teddy knew Draco and Hermione would also be there, and decided it would be all right to allow himself the distraction of Potter's presence and conversation again. Besides, the guy seemed to have a natural talent for magic, which made working with him easy.

"Sure, why not?"

Potter looked at him pointedly for a few seconds, and then past him to Draco and Hermione, who were gathering up their things and preparing to leave together. "Yeah, sounds good. See you after lunch then."

Gathering his satchel over his shoulder, Harry left quickly without saying goodbye to his best female friend, and Teddy was left to wonder what in the hell that was all about.

Potter turned out to be an adequately skilled Transfigurer as well, much to Teddy's amazement. Clearly, the guy's strengths lie in Dark Arts defense, but he held his own and then some in the face of the day's lesson: altering one's own facial features.

As they worked, far across the room from Drake and Hermione, Teddy learned that Harry had been forced to perform this same set of spells last year, during his hunt for the final Horcruxes – specifically he'd given himself enough of a make-over one time that he'd been able to waltz right into the Hufflepuff Common Room in the hopes of discovering where Helga's Cup – one of Voldemort's secret hiding places for a piece of his rotten, twisted soul – could be located, and no one had recognized him.

"Clever," Teddy praised with a grin. "If not risky."

Potter nodded seriously. "Yeah, no kidding. The Badgers are definitely no pushovers; they're almost as vicious as you Snakes when they've been messed with. And they take it as a personal insult on the whole bloody lot of 'em if you go wrong just one member. In May, Seamus slipped half a bottle of U-No-Poo into Wayne Hopkins' pumpkin juice to get even for the fact that the guy stole your housemate, Tracey Davis away from him. In retaliation, they sent my entire House a dozen boxes of Puking Pastilles disguised as ordinary chocolates under the pretext of an end of year gift. Thank Merlin only a few First Years had eaten them before the projectile vomiting started, and we quickly threw the rest away."

Teddy whistled low. "Wow… talk about your exponential revenge-taking. Guess I ought to never do a Hufflepuff wrong."

Harry sniggered. "No, I wouldn't recommend it."

They spent the rest of the lesson amicably talking, and by the end of it, Teddy had learned something important about Harry Potter: the guy was sharp. Not much got past him. If not for his own years of honed conversational skills, in fact, Teddy might have just mistaken the young man's casual comments for small talk. He realized over the course of those three hours working together, though, that Potter never said anything without purpose. The Hufflepuff warning he'd gotten earlier – probably meant so he could pass that onto Harper, who was currently trying to woo Davis away from Hopkins openly.

He'd have to be extra careful to hide his illness around the guy. The last thing Teddy needed was for Hermione to find out through her friend's hawkish observations.

For the first time, Teddy wondered if the rumors were true that the Sorting Hat almost sent Harry Potter over to Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. It would have made sense, in a way.

After the events of Wednesday night and Thursday morning, Draco stepped up the lessons on Friday night again, moving Hermione into a realm she'd never gone before with a man – full topless nudity.

They were lounging on the couch, him up on his left elbow, leaning over her as she lay flat looking up at him and they were kissing tenderly when she felt his hand slide down over her clothed breast and begin stroking her. His fingers danced over to the buttons of her shirt and began slipping them from their holes one at a time. She'd already removed her own shirt in front of him once, so this wasn't really a frightening thing in and of itself. Too enamored by his kissing to worry anyway, she felt her shirt parted in the middle and cool air caressed her exposed skin. She broke the kiss to look up at him and Draco's easy smile and soft fingers rubbing her abdomen gently kept her calm.

"Lesson four," he informed her tenderly. "Overcoming shyness about your own body." His light kisses moved from her lips, to her cheek, down her jaw, to the side of her neck.

He hummed appreciatively and placing hands on her shoulders, he guided them both into sitting up, and quickly slid her shirt off her arms, tugging it over her small wrists and dropping it to the floor next to the couch. He kissed her again, as his arms slid around her and he began expertly fiddling with her bra strap. When she felt it give, felt his hands slipping the thin straps down her biceps and off of her, heat rushed through her entire body. Her cheeks were on fire as he moved away to look down at her naked breasts for the first time. She bit her lip, fought against shielding herself with her arms, and let him stare, trying to calm her racing heart by concentrating on the black turtleneck that poked out from under his dark green cable-knit sweater.

His fingers trailed a path over her shoulders, down her collarbone, smoothing their way towards her exposed bosom, until at last he was cupping them and pushing upwards. His long, pale fingers were splayed over the nipples, his thumbs rubbing the bottom of the curves, and she gasped at the exquisite feeling.

"They're perfect," he murmured to her. "Just the right size for my hands. Beautifully shaped." His fingers stroked her areolas. "Gods, you're so soft here." He seemed almost in awe as his index fingers and thumbs gently rolled her nipples. She was panting now from the sensations, her body jerking uncontrollably with each complete circle he made, and she gripped his upper arms tightly to keep some measure of control. He leaned forward and kissed her neck, breathing hotly against her sensitive skin. "I love how you react to my touch."

He continued caressing her, and let their lips meet again for a searing kiss that lasted a long time. It was hard to concentrate on what her tongue and mouth were doing as his hands kept sliding up and down her waist, around her back, up her spine, back under and over her breasts, smoothing over her nipples, only to glide away again and repeat. She was quickly catapulted into a state of sensory overload; her brain couldn't cope. Moaning and grabbing at him, she begged him for more, not caring how fast they were moving. He continued his languid exploration of her body, however, not giving in to her demands. Caught in the moment, she was a little resentful when he pulled away from her completely, sitting back to look at her.

"You're brilliant, Hermione," he breathed, and couldn't seem to help his hand as it wound about her throat, running over the back of her neck, and tangled in her hair possessively. "So sexy, so passionate…" He tilted her head back with a tug and her spine arched, her breasts thrust towards him. His mouth latched onto her left breast and he began sucking and flicking her nipple with his tongue, and Hermione cried out in ecstasy. She ran her fingers through his silken, platinum hair and held on mindlessly as he began nipping and lathing her next, tugging the rosy bud between his teeth.

"Mark me again," she begged, all animal instinct now, letting her primal self take complete dominance over her logical, proper self. "Right there, Draco."

He groaned in response, and then his teeth clamped down on her breast and he bit her hard. She hissed in both pain and pleasure, and he moaned in response, applying pressure and laying her back on the couch, riding her down. He kept suckling at her, and her legs came up of their own volition to cradle him between her thighs. Dropping his hips, he began rubbing against her mound with his pelvis, grinding against her as his mouth moved towards her right breast.

"Merlin!" she swore, thrusting her hips against his, feeling the warmth between them building her up to a fast crescendo. "Draco… harder."

He growled low in his throat, and Hermione could feel his solid erection straining to be freed from his pants. Once again, she forgot that she'd wanted to wait for her first time to be special; caught in the moment, she didn't care. She implored him to just give in; to plunge into her body right then and there. One of his hands began reaching between them to start undoing his belt buckle, but a moment later and with amazing restraint, he forced himself to stop, cuffing the side of the couch near her head in frustration instead. He desperately wanted to give in, she knew he did by the way he shuddered all up and down his frame, but he was being considerate of their agreement. He clearly wasn't going to take them somewhere that they both knew, deep down inside, she wasn't ready for quite yet. Instead, he gave her what was allowable, and attacked with renewed force upon her breasts with his mouth, grinding harder against her with his hips. Her hands grabbed his waist, and she thrust back against him wildly. Very soon, she approached her climax.

"Come on, baby," he grated between his teeth, pulling away from her nipple to place his head next to her ear. "Give yourself to me."

She was right there… and with a final hard thrust against her clit, she crashed with a wail, her whole body tensing up, red-orange fire exploding behind her eyelids. She clung to Draco fiercely, wrapping herself around him in hot blooded release.

When she came back down from her high, he cradled her face and licked and nipped at her lips lightly, catching her panting expelled air into his open mouth. When her breathing became more even, he laid on her a sultry, lingering kiss that touched Hermione's soul with its sweetness. He hadn't come; she could tell by the way he kept circling his pelvis lightly against her mound, his erection still very prominent through his pants. When she asked him if he wanted to, he shook his head. "This is all for you right now," he murmured tenderly, continuing to place sucking, wet kisses on her throat, caressing her jaw with his right hand. "I can take care of myself later."

The thought of him stroking himself, coupled with his seductive hip motions against her caused a renewed rush of warmth through her, dampening her knickers even more. She shuddered and pressed herself back into him, and he chuckled darkly in her ear. "More?" Pulling Draco's head back towards her, she Frenched him wildly in answer and within a rushed, sweltering five minutes of grinding, tonguing and gasping, she'd come again.

They each struggled weakly to regain sanity, their hearts pounding behind their chests in an asynchronous rhythm. After a few seconds, Draco pushed himself over onto her side against the back of the couch to keep from crushing her, resting his damp brow on her naked shoulder, laboriously panting.

"Thank you," she whispered, running fingers through his hair gently. "For making me feel so good… and for not giving in."

He gave a tired laugh. "You're welcome, on both counts." He lifted his head slightly and looked over at her. "I think you definitely mastered this lesson, Granger."

They grinned at each other, and then relaxed and cuddled, enjoying the afterglow, and very soon, Hermione slumbered, wrapped up in Draco's warm arms, feeling his lips and fingers sleepily caressing her bared skin.

When she awoke Saturday morning, she was in her bed, having been moved there at some point in the early morning, although she'd had no memory of that happening. She was also, amusedly, wearing Draco's dark green sweater; the soft cashmere tickled her bare nipples. Not wanting to get out of bed just then, she snuggled back down under the covers, pressing the neckline of his pullover to her nose and inhaling deeply. Cherries simmering in port wine, sweet and dark and spicy. Merlin, she loved his cologne!

Smiling, she closed her eyes and let herself drift back off to lazy sleep with her boyfriend's scent pervading her senses.

On Sunday morning, Hermione met with Ernie and all of the House Prefects (except Ron who was still recovering from a cold), as they had agreed to do every weekend from now until the Yule Ball to work out the issues, and to keep each other on track. Last Sunday's meeting had finally generated a theme (after an hour and a half of debate on the issue): a stag masquerade to encourage inter-House mingling primarily, but with the secondary benefit that no formal dates amongst students might actually prevent the flurry of violent anxiety that popped up every year like clockwork around this time, distracting from important school work. Formal dress robes would be the fashion, as usual, and the official color theme was gold and silver.

Today's meeting would be an update to find out what had been accomplished on the various assigned tasks over the past week.

Parvati Patil and Anthony Goldstein stood up first and gave their report to the group regarding the invitations. "Invitations will go out by next Saturday – that's the fifteenth," Parvati explained. "That way, there will be six weeks advanced notice so people can get started on their masks and dress shopping."

"Luca Carruse will be working with Martine Copplestone to hand out the Hufflepuff and Hogwarts staff member invites," Anthony explained. "Irving Cram will handle Slytherin, Justin Steele will do Ravenclaw, and Parvati will take care of Gryffindor."

"What's the design?' Ernie asked, scribbling down notes hurriedly. "And what's your budget look like?"

Parvati held up a rather attractive rectangular, snow white invitation, bordered with silver embossed lines. In the middle was the sample text for the invitation, done in gold embossed script. It came with a simple, matching snow white envelope. It was simple, but elegant. She passed it around the room for people to see, and exchanged a pleased smile with Anthony. "Tony's dad works for Whizz Hard Books' pressers, and when he told them of our budget situation, they agreed to print these up for free for us! The only thing we have to pay for is the card stock, which comes in at a little less than twenty-five galleons."

There were a lot of happy gasps and a few claps in appreciation from the group. "Wow, that's amazing!" Hermione burst out enthusiastically. "That's… Tony, Parvati, that's fantastic!"

"Hey, could you shift their unused budget over to the Food and Drinks Committee instead?" Pansy Parkinson piped up, her arms crossed, her face sour as she looked at Hermione. "We're seriously short if you expect to feed that many people adequately, you know."

"Or you could throw some of that cash our way," Blaise countered, giving a smirk to his girlfriend across the table. "That way we could hire a quality band instead of a cut-rate one."

Padma stepped up then. "With a better decorations budget, we could really make the hall look as spectacular as it had been during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, instead of the usual school dance chintz."

Instantly, there was animated arguing among the Chair Heads and amongst their individual staff members as they all debated the merits of a bigger budget for their particular committee over another. Hermione and Ernie glanced at each other in frustration. "The sharks are circling," he muttered under his breath. "I leave it in your capable hands to decide, Miss Number One Student." He grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. It was going to be one of those days, she could just tell.

"Okay, pipe down," she instructed firmly, standing, and the special room allocated to them within the Library fell quiet again. Only Dennis Aldermaston made any noise as he continued to munch disgustingly loud on what had to be his third powdered donut. "We've got a very limited budget to begin with, as you all know, but yes, we can certainly shift around the remainder of Invitations' budget equally amongst the other three committees." When there looked to be a protest, Hermione held her hand up. "But that still not going to be a lot of money. So, I expect you all to try to follow Parvati's and Anthony's example and come up with a way to get whatever you need creatively."

She looked to Padma first. "I would suggest you look in the storage cupboards around the school and see if there are things in there we could use for free from previous events. I know Slughorn's Christmas Party stuff is spirited somewhere around here, and he had some really nice, large swathes of fairy cloth. Go through that stuff first. Next, you might want to check out The Room of Hidden Things in The Room of Requirement. There's got to be stuff in there worth swiping. Just be careful in there and take a teacher with you so you don't get hurt. If all else fails, there's always transfiguring items. Professor McGonagall can help you make sure the spells stay in place for the whole night, if need be. You can also charm the ceiling with falling snow or shooting stars or something."

She turned to Pansy next. "I heard your Sweet Seventeen party last year was quite the spread. Ask your parents who the caterer was, and then go to them and find out if they'd be willing to donate some foodstuffs to the Ball in exchange for a free marketing opportunity with The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, who are going to cover the dance."

"I thought the press wasn't allowed on campus," Pansy shot back, dubiously.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll talk to the Headmaster today and convince him that the Yule Ball – which is a community event fostering good relations amongst Muggle-borns, Half-bloods and Pure-bloods – would be a perfect opportunity for a carefully guided set of press agents to come and cover. The good publicity would definitely go a long way towards showing the world that Hogwarts has recovered from the war, and is, in fact, the safest and happiest place on earth for young wizards and witches. And perhaps even some home-schoolers will see the article and beg their parents to let them come here – which would sure as fire fix the budget problem the school is currently having."

Pansy's stance didn't change, and her brows drew down in consideration of the proposition presented, but after a second or two, she nodded her head. "All right, I'll try it."

"If your caterer doesn't want to be generous, I'm sure there are dozens of others out there willing to be," Hermione encouraged her. "And you might want to ask Madam Rosmerta over at The Three Broomsticks if she'd donate some Butterbeers or her homebrewed Hottie Totties in exchange for the free press as well."

She turned to Blaise next. "If you want a really hot band, this may be a case where the other students are going to have to put up from their own pockets to help out. I would suggest setting up donation boxes in each of the houses and getting the word out that the only way the Weird Sisters or someone like that is coming here, is if the students themselves fork out something to pay for it. Every knut and sickle contributed counts towards getting you what you want." She ran a hand along the back of her neck. "If that fails, we might be able to look at Muggle options for music." She turned to Vicky Frobisher. "Didn't you mention in May that you wanted your cousin to DJ Gryffindor's end of year party?"

Vicky nodded. "Yeah, John works on both sides of the divide. He's always been into Muggle music though, and he's got players and speakers that don't short out around wizards and can work without the need for electrical outlets. And his CD collection is huge. He did a nice job at my Muggle sister's Leavers' Ball last year."

Hermione waived Blaise's attention to Vicky. "Okay, so work with Vicky on getting her cousin in here if the live band thing falls down."

Zabini looked stumped. "What's a DJ?"

She sighed and gave him the exaggerated, short definition. "It's a Muggle term for a musical genius who can play a variety of good, hip music on really great sound equipment."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at that, but remained silent and simply nodded.

She looked at Ernie wryly. "In the meantime, we'll go back to Professor Dumbledore and the staff and see if we can't beg off some extra money and to talk to him about the press coming here. After that, I'll speak with The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly about covering the Yule Ball."

The compromises and suggestions seemed to renew the energies of the Committee Chair Heads and their staff, and they adjourned the meeting on a high note at exactly ten o'clock – which was fortunate for Adam Urquhart, Donald Harper and Adrian Pucey because they were all members of Slytherin's Quidditch main and alternate teams, respectively, and were required to go out to the pitch for their weekly practice session just then.

"Nice job," Ernie commended her, putting a hand on her shoulder as he moved off. "No wonder you're called the Bright One." Hermione blushed, shook her head modestly, and gathered her things. People filed out, talking animatedly once more about the work ahead, until Hermione was, at last, alone.

Or at least she thought she was.

"I get it now," Blaise's deep, rumbly voice behind her made her jump slightly.

She composed herself, turned to him, and slung her satchel over her shoulder. "Get what?"

Zabini looked at her evenly, arms crossed, leaning casually against the door frame, his large body blocking the way out. "Why he likes you so much."

Hermione blinked in confusion. "Who?"

"Drake."

The name hung between them, and Hermione felt her face light up. Just hearing Draco referred to brought back memories of the other night and what they'd done. She looked down at her shoes like they were the most interesting new discovery in the whole world. "Oh."

She felt Blaise's dark chocolate eyes measuring her pointedly. "And Nott."

She swallowed. "What's Teddy have to do with anything?" she asked, feeling her heart skip a beat. There was a pause. Squirming in discomfort at the scrutiny she could feel like a weight between her shoulders, she finally looked up to find Zabini still barring the path out of the room, his face unreadable. "I'm seeing Draco."

The ebony-skinned man snorted. "Yeah, I think Theo's aware of that, too, Granger." With that, he turned and walked away.

Hermione had to sit for a minute to allow her knees the chance to stop knocking together. Was Zabini insinuating that Teddy might have feelings for her? She knew they were sort-of friends, but… that he like liked her was a whole different matter unto itself.

Really, it shouldn't matter a whit. After all, she'd fallen for Draco. He was perfect – everything she wanted… Except he didn't want her back. At least not long term. Not as far as she could tell, anyway. What they were doing, it was only short-term. Wasn't it?

"I won't be jealous of yours if you won't be jealous of mine."

"You… make me feel right again."

"You're brilliant, Hermione. So sexy, so passionate..."

The words stabbed at her, because they'd been said with such sincerity, and they implied Draco felt something deeper than just a simple physical attraction for her. He even called her 'baby,' sometimes – an intimate pet name. Could it be possible for her boyfriend to eventually love her back?

Stop looking for things that aren't there, she chided herself forcefully.

All the fanciful wishes in the universe would not change the fact that Draco Malfoy was with her for fun only. He'd agreed to her terms so he could get well laid by a girl he'd trained for just such a purpose. He had a reputation that was well-earned for short-term romances (Megan Jones, who was a Prefect this year, went out of her way to seek Hermione out to kindly warn her – woman to woman - yesterday afternoon, that Malfoy had deflowered her and broken up with her after only three weeks together).

Still, knowing the truth, Hermione's heart could not help its longing for him. So, even if what Blaise hinted at was possible - that Teddy liked her - there was absolutely nothing she could do about that now. She'd made her choice.

She swiped away the hot tear that trickled down her cheek, squared her shoulders and left the library for her Common Room, deciding that she needed a short lie in.

---

CHAPTER TEN: BLINDSIDED

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

Monday, November 10, 1997 - Wednesday, November 12, 1997

Ron was back from his sickbed on Monday, and he was picking fights with just about everyone.

To start, during the middle of breakfast, what beganas a simple discussion about Quidditch tactics with his little sister ended up morphing into a full out sibling name-calling session and screech-fest within ten short minutes - which cheese'd off Harry to no end.

Next, Ron had managed to anger Lavender, by cozying up to Hermione for support when Harry lightly smacked him upside the head and left the Dining Hall for his first classes without finishing breakfast. Brown was the jealous type and she'd made it no secret that she didn't like her boyfriend continuing to emotionally "cuddle" with his ex-girlfriend. In a huff, Lavender threw a rather nasty look at Ron, which, in turn, set him up to ask the very un-politic question of her: "So, what's your problem?" At that point, Hermione had quickly grabbed Draco's hand and left for their first shared class together to avoid the inevitable loud and awful fallout, which could be heard just as their feet hit the Entrance Hall. Thankfully, Draco had the forethought to snatch up a few pieces of dry French Toast on the way out, and they shared them, eating with their fingers while walking to the dungeons for Advanced Potions Lab.

When she sat down at Gryffindor's table in the Great Hall at noon, Neville clamored over to her and told her all about how Ron had received a lunch-time detention from Professor Snape during their D.A.D.A. class for mouthing off when he couldn't answer a question unexpectedly thrown at him by the teacher. He was worried that there might be something wrong with Ron, as it seemed very uncharacteristic of him to be so openly snippy with Snape. At that point, Hermione started to suspect that Ron's bad mood wasn't from natural causes.

When her red-headed friend sat down across from her at dinner, he had a puffy, black eye and a split lip, and that's when she knew this was more than just a case of the dog gone rabid. "Ron, tell me what you ate and drank this morning," she demanded.

"The same bloody thing you did," he indignantly replied.

Draco opened his mouth to take Ron to task for speaking to her in such a tone, but her firm hand on his leg under the table stopped him abruptly from launching into what would indubitably be a prelude to another physical altercation.

Something had been wrong with Ron's tongue when he'd been speaking, she'd noticed. It didn't look right… She stood, walked all the way down the long table, looped around and came to Ron's side. "Tilt your head back and open your mouth for me," she commanded brusquely.

He fought her, of course, and so she was forced to resort to restraint to get what she wanted from him. Her wand flicked a few times, she thought the spell she wanted – having trained up considerably with non-verbals before the war – and suddenly, Ron was shoved back against the wall, where he stuck to it like glue. "Now, open your mouth or I'll make you," she threatened, pressing her wand to his chest. He cursed her, rather loudly and foully, so in the end, she'd had to pry open his jaws physically and pressed her nose close to his open mouth, sniffing. He coughed in her face, just to be a jackarse and she slapped him, wiping at her face in disgust.

There was only one herb in the world that changed the color of one's tongue to neon orange, made a person's breath smell very strongly of cloves and turned them into a flaming idiot to boot: Sneezewort. Someone must have slipped a large quantity in Ron's food or drink at breakfast without his knowledge. A very dangerous and stupid thing to do, as Sneezewort could enrage a person to the point of berserker madness if too much was ingested.

Hermione did something then she rarely did then: she cursed out loud.

"Gods damn it all to the flaming pits of Hades!"

Ignoring the gasps of astonishment around her, she took a deep breath and swung around, looking for a possible culprit. She found two guffawing heads conspiratorially pressed together over at Ravenclaw's table. "Terry Boot and Michael Corner!" she hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing in instantaneous anger. "Well, we'll just see about that, shall we?"

She clomped past Ron to head back around the table, absently waving her wand behind her to release him from her Mobilicorpus spell (he slumped to the ground rather hard behind her with a whiny, "Owwww! What'd you do that for, you bloomin' nutter?"), and stalked over to the two troublemakers in question. Seeing the wrathful Head Girl bearing down on them, Boot and Corner quickly hi-tailed it out of the dining hall as fast as their ungraceful Size 12's could pedal. Mocking laughter followed them out, along with a few whistles and one loud call from Seamus Finnegan for the two boys to "stop running like a bunch o' pussies."

Her prey escaped and still seething in fury, Hermione made her way back to her table. Draco gazed at her with a mixture of incredulity and amusement. "Don't say a word," she threatened him and he held his two hands up between them, shaking his head artlessly.

She turned to Ron impatiently. "Come on, Ronald. We need to get you up to Madam Pomfrey right away." When her friend made to argue with her, she simply pointed her wand at him again and set her jaw square, her eyes blazing wroth. Even with the effects of Sneezewort to goad him on, Ron wisely chose not to argue (a first that day). A pissed off Hermione was something not even he would tangle with, apparently. He sulkily picked up two rolls in passive aggressive defiance, however, stuffing them into his mouth as he stomped towards the exit, Hermione in tow, her wand on him the whole way.

She explained things to the Medi-Witch, an antidote was administered, and Ron was on his knees begging her forgiveness by the time they made to leave.

Hermione sighed in frustration, wondering if it was possible to pick up cross-contamination from Sneezewort through the air, as she was still really livid over the whole situation. "Really, Ron, I could care less how sorry you are right now. I want to know what you did to get Corner and Boot to pull such a nasty prank."

"I didn't do anything!" he protested. "They're probably still pisser they lost money on the last Quidditch match to me."

She couldn't believe her ears. "Gambling, Ron? Really? Please tell me even you can't be that stupid. You know it's against the rules!"

Ron hiked himself off his knees and stood towering over her, a tad defensive now. "So? George and Fred used to do it all the time. No one said nothing."

"Anything," she corrected automatically and with another sigh of frustration. "No one said anything. Merlin, you'd think you'd never attended school, you country bumpkin." She spun away from him, starting for the exit. She could feel Ron hot on her robe tails. "In any case, I'm going to have to deduct five points from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for this little indiscretion. And you'd better hope that Professor Slughorn doesn't notice his stores of Sneezewort have been messed with. If you all get detention for it, questions will be raised, and the three of you might end up in serious trouble for placing bets. I can't cover for you all the time, Ron."

He mumbled something, and she whirled around huffily. "Did you say something?"

"I said, 'thank you,'" he reiterated, and she knew he was being sincere by the abashed look on his face.

"Well, you're welcome," she replied, satisfied that she'd made her point. She turned back then and they walked side by side down the long corridors towards the dining hall. Ron was quiet until they got to the stairs.

"Listen, 'Mione," he began, clearing his throat. "About you and Malfoy…"

Hermione felt the imaginary bristles on the back of her neck rise in readiness for battle.

"If the guy makes you as happy as you've seemed all week," he charged on, clearly needing to say his peace. "Then… I guess it's okay if you date him."

Her initial reaction was anger at his arrogant presumption. But that was overcome immediately by profound relief. "Thank you, Ron. It means a lot to me that you're trying."

From the corner of her eye, she caught his blush lighting up the freckles on his face, and he rubbed one large, meaty hand over the back of his neck and smirked. "Didn't say I liked the guy," he amended. "Just that I want you happy."

This was a giant leap in her ex-'s maturity, she thought, and so gave him an encouraging smile and took his hand to squeeze it in thanks. First Harry and now Ron. Perhaps today had some redeeming value left to it?

As they hit the bottom of the stairs, Draco was there, obviously on his way up to meet her. He took one look at her holding Ron's hand and froze. One moment he was animated, the next, deadly still, watching her neutrally, coolly. Letting go of Ron, she walked up to Draco and put her arms around his neck. "Sorry for snapping at you earlier," she whispered in his ear and nuzzled his neck.

He did not hug her back.

Her heart skipped a beat in slowly growing anxiety. Had he mistaken her affectionate gesture with Ron for something more? She hadn't done anything wrong, so why should her stomach suddenly have plummeted just now?

Ron walked past with an oblivious, "See ya," over his shoulder and left them alone. The corridor was empty except for the two of them.

She pulled back and looked at him. "What's wrong?"

His steel orbs peered at her frostily. "Why were you holding his hand?"

Hermione blinked. Ah, so her touching Ron had bothered him. But why? Was he jealous? No, it couldn't be… "To say 'thank you' to him for accepting us finally."

Draco stared at her coldly. "Couldn't you have just said 'thanks for not being a wanker anymore'? You didn't need to handle him."

Her eyes widened. He was jealous! "You know Ron and I are only friends, right? There's absolutely nothing between us."

"Except a past," he pointed out.

She took one step back hesitantly, but her ire returned in her defense, making her voice harsher than she'd expected. "I already told you that I don't feel that way for him anymore. Don't you believe me?"

He blinked and said nothing, staring her down, measuring her with those penetrating eyes. For a moment, he looked like his father, and she unconsciously took another small half step back. Her blood pounded in her ears now, her heart stuck in her throat made it hard to breathe.

Without a word, Draco spun on his heel and stalked away, his long legs taking him out of sight within moments.

What had just happened?

Confused and feeling decidedly unwell in her tummy –it was tumbling her dinner around maniacally – Hermione stood alone now in the hallway, unsure as to what to do. It was a decidedly unfamiliar sensation for her. Usually, she had a firm idea as to what she wanted and how to achieve it, but it seemed that ever since she'd hooked her wagon to Draco Malfoy, nothing she thought made any sense anymore.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring down at her feet, her mind whirling and her fingertips and toes cold, before Professor Snape came upon her. At his side was Teddy Nott.

"Miss Granger, I assume you're standing out here in the hallway with a purpose?" Snape growled at her, his face calculatingly cold, as usual.

His voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Umm… yes, I was … just on my way back from hospital." She stood aside.

"Are you okay?" Teddy asked, hurrying to her side, his face decidedly concerned. "You look… pale."

Hermione stared up at his alarmed mismatched eyes and felt her gut clench. Immediately following that response, she began to shake. Shock. She was in shock. "I'm… okay. I just need food. That's all."

"Dinner is long over, Miss Granger," Snape informed her, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "But perhaps you could persuade one of the house elves for some leftovers." He gave her a knowing smirk. "You seem to have them all charmed well enough to break the rules."

Absently, she nodded. "Yes, I'll just go to the kitchens." She started off, her body numb, her mind distracted with a riot of thoughts.

Why was she so bothered by a simply fight with Malfoy? It's not like they hadn't had them a million times before... Except it was all different now; his words and actions actually meant something to her, whereas before this summer, they had just been insults to endure. His displeasure in this case, even if misplaced, hurt her feelings in a way she hadn't ever experienced before, not even when he'd first referred to her as "Mudblood" so many years ago.

It was obvious: she was in over her head and sinking fast. The fact that Draco could wound her so seriously over something so unimportant was a flashing danger sign in her mind. But what could she do to save her heart from such upset - not date him anymore? The thought of seeing him every day and not knowing his warm fingers entwining with hers, not feeling his cool lips pressing against her mouth, not sharing laughter with him over some private joke stabbed at her agonizingly. Tears leaked out of her eyes.

Godric, help her if she felt this way now, she was going to be destroyed when he dumped her in forty-five days…

She stopped and leaned against the nearest wall, covering her face with her hands and sobbed.

Teddy found her like that, obviously having followed her, and the next thing she knew, he was holding her. She accepted his comfort and cried her tears into his vest with loud, hiccupping sobs. He didn't say anything to her at first, just waited patiently for her storm to wash by. After, he handed her his kerchief and stepped back when she was more controlled.

"You have a fight with Drake?" he asked gently.

She nodded her head. "This isn't like me," she stammered, trying to apologize for burdening him. "I'm usually more levelheaded." The weight of his stare was heavy on her as she used the small square of white cotton to dab at her eyes and nose as delicately as possible.

"You're in love with him."

It wasn't a question. Hermione dropped the cloth from her face and stared at the floor between them, unable to answer and unsure as to why not.

"It's okay, Granger," he murmured softly. "Every girl falls in love with him eventually."

She tried to hand his hanky back, but he shook his head. "Launder it and give it back later," he sadly teased.

"Thank you," she lamely replied, tucking the cloth in between her fingers to hold onto.

"Can I offer some advice?" Teddy asked hesitantly as she started to turn away. She nodded. "He broke up with the others because they weren't strong enough for him. They gave in too easily. If you want him, fight back. He respects strength."

She looked at him, their eyes connecting, an understanding between them in that moment. Yes, Teddy liked her… more than liked her. She saw that truth in his sad face – as he'd allowed, finally. But her heart was already spoken for, and he knew it now - as she'd allowed. "Thank you, Teddy," she whispered, her heart aching for him. "You really are a wonderful friend."

As she made her way around him, she heard his reply, so softly spoken it was little more than a tremor on the air, but to her sharp hearing, it had been undeniable.

"No, I'm not."

In a foul mood since his fight with Granger, Draco ruthlessly worked his Quidditch team over on Monday night at practice, criticizing each flaw and demanding repeated perfection before releasing them at nine o'clock. He ignored the groans and grumbling from his fellow Snakes as he'd put his gear in his gym bag and made for the small work-out room attached to the Quidditch pitch, where he spent the next two hours brutalizing himself. Exhausted from his self-imposed physical punishment, he hadn't even bothered to shower after coming back to the dorms around eleven; he just threw his clothes off and climbed into his bed, out for the count as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Granger was moaning in that husky voice of hers as he pushed her to lie back against the blanket and let his hands roam over her naked breasts, rubbing her nipples in slow circles with his thumbs, all the while kissing her fiercely. They were both naked, and a light sheen of perspiration coated their skins as the humid summer night at his Manor House in Wiltshire was untamed by any breeze. He crawled down and rested in the 'v' of her golden, silky thighs and delved his mouth right in, combining her natural flavor with the dollop of rich, sweet whipping cream he'd playfully worked through her curls with his fingers earlier. "Yes," she whimpered over and over as he ate her out with gentle swipes of his tongue and tiny nips of his teeth, holding her hips tightly screwed against his face. Her fingers ran through his white-blond hair, tugging and smoothing, urging him on with pleading mewling sounds as he lathed every inch of her pink, moist core. After a dozen passes, she climaxed with a loud shout of his name, and he drank the rush of warm juices up greedily, letting her salty fluid slide down his throat, inhaling deeply her musky fragrance as his nose pressed directly against her rosy lips. When she lay sated, her breathing restored to normal, he turned to give her left hand a loving kiss. His titanium serpent ring's emerald eyes sparkled at him from her fourth finger and he smiled up at her.

'Mine.'

The word echoed in his head, chasing him up into consciousness…

Draco awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, his whole body vibrantly thrumming with the need to find immediate sexual release. He glanced around; the room was empty, his roommates long gone, and there were no sounds coming from the hallway outside to indicate other people immediately nearby.

Without further ado, he grabbed his cock under the crisp, cotton sheets and began pumping his fist up and down to his favorite rhythm and with just the right amount of pressure, closing his eyes and recalling in his mind the other day when he'd penetrated Granger's beautiful pussy. The exquisite, acute pressure he'd experienced as the head of his penis had been surrounded by her moist, wet flesh had almost undone him, and it had only been with extreme control that he'd managed not to come in her right then and there. He recalled how it felt to slowly pulse in and out of her just a bit, the suction of teasing her entrance, inching his way past her hymen, touching it, stretching it with extreme sensitivity. It had been unequivocal heaven, and he'd wanted so badly to finish it then… He may not have completely torn her barrier that day, but technically he'd still taken Granger's virginity, as he'd been the very first man to enter her sweet, tight kitty. She'd given herself up to him willingly.

That knowledge brought him over the edge and he orgasmed all over his hand and belly with a rapturous, low groan in his throat, his teeth clenched in painful ecstasy, his heart hammering under his ribs.

After coming back down to earth and cleaning up the mess with his wand, Draco stared up at the dark green fabric canopy hanging equidistant from the four tall wooden posts of his bed frame, having decided to lie in and skip his morning class - Muggle Studies, a subject he didn't really care much about, honestly. He was now feeling decidedly ill, after having had such an awesome release. And the reason was simple: he knew what that last dream inescapably meant for him.

This could not be happening.

When had the game changed on him exactly?

He didn't rightly know.

The only thing he could say for certain was that he had fallen for Hermione Granger.

"Bloody, bloody, BLOODY hell," he muttered, closing his eyes and groaning. Not even three weeks in the pond, and he'd tumbled off the log entirely. How could he have fucking let this happen?

Ironically, "fucking" was the operative word. It was all because he'd wanted to stick his dick into her that any of this had become even remotely possible.

Maybe these feelings he had for her… maybe they were what the Muggles called pheromones? Or maybe he just really needed to get fully and truly laid (it had been since the end of June, nearly five months ago)? Or maybe it was simply a case of new relationship, rose-colored infatuation?

Yeah, any of those sounded plausible for what was going on in his chest.

Only they didn't. Not really.

They didn't, for instance, clarify why he'd moved Hermione into kissing so soon, when he knew that was something he usually waited to do with a girl until after the fucking, and then only if he kind of liked the chick enough to want to share something that intimate with her. Those excuses also didn't elucidate why he'd run to Hermione when he'd been feeling like he wanted to murder something, and why her presence alone had helped him retain sanity. They definitely didn't justify why he'd stopped moving in her body just as he'd been a gnat's wing away from getting what he really wanted that afternoon in her room. And they couldn't possibly explain why he'd been so gods damned jealous when he'd seen her holding the Weaselbee's hand yesterday.

Slytherin Almighty, he was really in love with her, wasn't he?

So, now what?, he thought, sending his query up into the sky. What the hell am I supposed to do? She'd set a time limit on their "relationship" and made it clear that by December twenty-fifth, this thing between them would be over for good, and he wasn't getting the feeling from her that the arrangement had changed any. But… he didn't want this thing between them to end; he wanted to keep seeing her.

Hell, who was he kidding? After yesterday, he might not even have to worry about a Christmas deadline, anyway. Granger just might decide to dump his arse flat today when she saw him in their three-hour Transfiguration Lecture later that afternoon.

Fuck.

What the hell was he going to say to make up for such a stupid screw-up, without letting her on to his real feelings?

He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration, and reminded himself again that this was exactly why Draco Malfoy never got in deep with women. They tied a guy up in knots.

He sighed and looked over towards the window. His dorm room was a level above the lake, so there was sunlight streaming through one of the two casement windows. Fathoming a guess by the intensity of the light, he figured it must be sometime after ten o'clock. He wished he knew the exact time, however, just so he could mark his calendar correctly. That way he'd never forget the precise moment he'd officially become pussy whipped.

When Hermione didn't come down to the dining hall at lunch, Draco walked alone to Slytherin's table and ate in relative quiet, not engaging his gang in conversation, his mind instead turning over plans to make amends with his girlfriend at the beginning of next class.

He couldn't just outright apologize first; that would make him look like a lovesick idiot, and he was worried she'd take advantage of the power she had over him if she figured out how he really felt about her. Therefore, he'd decided to treat the whole thing like it had been no big deal. He'd just be his unflappable, suave self, waltz in and kiss her on the cheek, then sit next to her and chat her up. From all the alternatives he'd turned over, it was the plan with the least drawbacks and the most positive outcome. He'd go with it, and hoped it worked.

Leaving a little earlier than necessary and lounging against the classroom's inside wall next to the door, he was hoping to catch her right as she entered and just before she sat down. Needless to say, he was shocked when she walked in with Teddy, the two of them laughing and talking energetically, her hand falling on his arm in a familiar way at something he said. That same burning jealousy Draco had encountered yesterday illogically wound its way through his heart and he moved quickly to intercept her.

"Granger, can I speak to you?" he asked a little more roughly than he'd intended, coming along her right side and stopping her with a hand on her shoulder.

Immediately, her conversation with Teddy stopped and she turned to give Draco her full attention. The look she gave him was indecipherable, her voice completely neutral when she spoke. "What can I do for you, Malfoy?"

Malfoy was it? She hadn't called him that in a while…

Teddy, he noticed, stuck to Hermione's side like glue, refusing to give them privacy. This irritated Draco something fierce, and he knew he was acting irrationally, but he couldn't seem to help himself. All of his plans for cool detachment went right out that window at that point. "Sit with me today." It was a command, not a request and it sounded too desperate and angry, even to his ears.

Hermione stared at him evenly for a moment, but then her eyes narrowed slightly in warning. "Being next to me for three hours would be an unwise move right now, Malfoy," she commented steely, a fiery gleam in her eye. "You insulted my honor, and I'm not feeling particularly forgiving right now." She turned and took the seat next to Teddy, who seemed decidedly embarrassed about being in the middle of their quarrel.

Draco was floored. This was not the reaction he was expecting. He thought they'd smooth things over without difficulty… but then, this was Granger, and nothing was ever easy with her because she always pushed back. He grit his teeth and took the chair directly behind her, glaring at the back of her head for the whole three hours. For her part, she seemed completely oblivious to his ire, and instead took copious notes while McGonagall droned on at the front of the class, occasionally writing things down on the board with white chalk.

When class ended, Hermione gathered up her things and headed out without a glance in his direction. Draco actually growled, shoved his notebook, quill and inkpot into his bag and made to follow her out when Teddy's hand on his arm stopped him. "She's really pissed at you right now, mate," her friend cautioned. "I'd give her space."

Feeling snappish, he turned on his friend, his voice furiously low. "And what do you know of it?"

Nott just stared him down with those mismatched eyes calmly, refusing to be baited into the fight that Draco was looking to start. "Don't you have N.E.W.T. Prep now anyway?"

Swearing under his breath, he turned on his heel and stalked out to head to his final class for the day, wondering again how in the hell he'd gotten into this whole mess to begin with… and how he planned to get out of it before Hermione dropped him flat.

Draco spent all of dinner watching her, wanting to approach, but his pride prevented him. He was afraid of getting shot down, honestly. So, instead, he glared at her from across the room, hoping she'd notice. She didn't even look his way once.

Miserably, he finished his meal, picked himself up and made for his rooms to collect his workout gear. Five hundred crunches ought to burn the stupid right out of him, he figured.

On Wednesday morning, Teddy worked with Draco and Dean Thomas on pruning Alihotsy, each man wearing their thick Herbology gloves to touch the shiny leaves, careful not to get any near their faces or on their skins. Granger, Teddy noted, was on the other side of the room working with Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnegan on their own plant. She looked in their direction only once, obviously peeking over at her boyfriend, and Teddy caught a shaky glove smooth her hair back from her sweaty forehead and immediately knew she'd unthinkingly made a very bad mistake, so distracted was she by her worries over her relationship with Drake.

Running across the room quickly, he got to her just as she started screaming. Tossing off his own gloves, careful not to touch the fingertips, he reached for his wand in his robes and cast Petrificus Totalus on her. She froze up and started tumbling over, and he caught her the second before she smashed into the greenhouse table. Professor Sprout was at their side in an instant.

"She touched a glove to her forehead," he explained quickly. "I saw it happen."

Sprout reached into her robes and pulled out a vial with a blue stopper, which she popped off. "Fast thinking, Mr. Nott," the teacher commended him. "Twenty points to Slytherin." She took her own wand out and pointed it at Hermione. "When I release her from the petrification, she's going to start screaming again. I'll need you to hold her down and force her jaw open so I can pour this Glumbumble Treacle down her throat to counteract the poison."

Teddy shook his head. "I can hold her, but someone else is going to have to open her mouth."

Draco knelt at his side. "I got it." He steadied his ungloved hands to grab her jaw and chin.

"Ready?" Pomona asked, and the two young men nodded simultaneously. She waved her wand and spoke the counter charm. "Finite Incantatem."

Immediately, Hermione unfroze and her piercing scream shattered the utterly silent room. Draco grabbed her roughly and forced her mouth to stay open as the Professor poured the gooey, yellow-orange treacle down her throat. At Sprout's nod, Draco slammed her jaws shut and held her nose. "Swallow it, Granger," he commanded her as she fought like a wildcat. She eventually ingested the substance, and Draco let her go as she struggled to breathe. As the madness was still upon her, however, she bit his forearm and he simply grunted and pushed his arm into her, forcing her to either bite harder and choke or let him go. Self-preservation made her body automatically react and choose the latter course.

The antidote took effect a minute later, and her screams trailed off into heartbreaking sobs. Draco took her gently from Teddy's arms then and held her to his chest, rocking her back and forth and shushing her. She clung fiercely to him, crying and hiccupping at the same time.

"She should be taken to Madam Pomfrey right away," Professor Sprout indicated and Draco gathered his girlfriend against his chest, placed one arm under her knees, while the other supported her back, and with a great pull of all of his muscles, he stood and carried her out. Harry got the door for him, and he nodded in thanks. "Get her bag, will you?" he asked Potter, and then they were gone.

Teddy stood on shaky legs. Alihotsy was nothing to mess around with, as it caused extreme hysteria – which was why only teachers and Seventh Year students were allowed to actually go near the plant at Hogwarts. He was worried for Granger's sanity, which would surely be very fragile right now, especially given the fact that she'd been emotional wrought before the accident.

Behind him, Pomfrey was instructing everyone to go back to work and to learn from this mistake, urging extreme caution for the remainder of the class. Once more, she came to Teddy's side and congratulated him on his quick wittedness and then encouraged him to finish up his project with Dean. He received an automatic "O" for the lesson, despite not completing all of the assigned tasks before it was time to clean-up for the day.

As he was leaving the greenhouse, Potter stopped him. "Don't worry for 'Mione," he tried for reassuring. "She'll be fine. She's tougher than most people think. Still, I'll skip our D.A.D.A. class to stay with her this afternoon." Teddy and Harry shared the same schedule on Wednesdays, he knew.

"What about Snape?" Teddy asked, knowing the man held very little love for Potter, and that ditching Severus' class would most likely end in a detention… or five.

Potter shrugged. "I can handle him. Just share notes with me later, okay?"

Teddy nodded, knowing that this was for the best. Spending too much time in the presence of Draco and Hermione would just depress him, and he could maybe manipulate things with Snape so his Professor would understand the necessity of Harry missing class and not come down too hard on the guy. "Okay. Tell her… I hope she gets better soon."

Harry nodded. "Will do." With that, he left with Hermione's bag slung over one shoulder, his own on the other. Teddy sighed then followed him out.

It had been nice to save the girl for once. For the first time in his life, Teddy felt like a real hero.

In his heart of hearts, though, he knew that it would be Drake who would be getting the "credit" from Granger for the save. Their two day love spat would finally come to an end. And he'd go back to being a wallflower to her once more.

Hermione woke in hospital. She recognized the place instantly, having spent her fair share of time in the Ward over the last seven years.

"Hey, baby."

She looked to her left and Draco was sitting at her side, his face a mask of relief.

"How you feeling?"

He brought a hand to her forehead and rubbed a finger across the skin. It stung like needles and she hissed. Aside from that, the rest of her appeared to be fine. She wiggled her fingers and toes, blinked a few times towards the ceiling to make sure her vision was good, and then tried her voice.

"Okay, but my throat is sore and my forehead stings." She sounded raw, and it hurt to talk.

"Yeah, you touched yourself with Alihotsy on your glove," he explained. "Do you remember any of it?"

Yes, of course she recalled the moment everything changed: she'd been staring at Draco in class, and then suddenly, rusty-brown, noxious-colored blood ran down her vision, coating him. The next instant, she was back in the hallway, and he was staring at her with cold eyes. Then, he turned and walked away from her, and it hurt. Only the hurt had been magnified a million fold, to the point where she felt her soul was being ripped from her very body.

She shut her eyes to stop the panicked sorrow from taking hold of her again, and flashes of memory unexpectedly attacked from every angle, causing her body to spasm violently: blood sprayed against the wall as an Auror fell to Dolohov's Curse; Nagini lunged at her with fangs fully extended for the kill, but suddenly there was Dobby apparating in mid-air to catch her, being bitten in her stead and falling to the floor dead in seconds; Macnair crumbled in an unconscious heap as she cursed him to save Ron; Bellatrix Lestrange cast the Cruciatus Curse on her and there was such pain through all her nerve endings that she begged for death; Voldemort's bone wand stroked her cheek while his other hand wrapped bony fingers around her throat and he held her hostage to try to trick Harry into coming out into the open… Every memory was real in sight, sound, taste, smell, touch – and it was so overpowering that it crushed her again and again, smashing into her psyche brutally.

"Granger?" Draco's voice came to her out of the sound void, and warm hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her to the bed. "Madam Pomfrey, come quick!"

She continued to buck, unable to open her eyes, a violent, suffocating hysteria gripping her heart once more, and she wailed, crying again, powerless to find her way out from underneath the pain.

"DRACO!" she screamed his name over and over again, unable to think of anything but him walking away from her in that hallway on Monday, his face closed off, her heart broken by his rejection. "NO, NO, NO!" she moaned repeatedly.

Suddenly, her lips were being forced open again, something cold and tasting like the most disgustingly sweet honey on the planet drizzled down her throat in gobs, and then her mouth was shut and Draco was demanding she swallow once more. She shook her head, her fingers looking for purchase to push him away, but he was so much stronger than she. He could crush her so easily!

Despair at her pathetic weakness rose up. Despondency over her ineffectualness gnawed away at her courage. This felt the same as that day… when Bellatrix had kept her pinned under her Unforgivable Curse and later, when Voldemort had used her as bait to ensnare her best friend. She'd been wretchedly pitiable then; she was even more so now.

Unqualified witch!

Incompetent Mudblood!

Unworthy friend!

Such thoughts continued to torture her relentlessly, while images from the back of her memory bombarded her until she wanted to vomit from the vileness and wickedness of everything evil and wrong and bad she'd witnessed through the course of her short life.

Her head was forcibly tilted back and she had no choice but to gulp down the concoction in her mouth or choke to death. As soon as she swallowed, the hands on her head let her go… but the effect this time was even more violent than before. She thrashed around, turning on her side and grabbing her stomach, kicking, screaming until she began coughing up coppery acid bile in great, heaving gasps. The images in her head faded out, but now it felt like she was burning up inside.

"She's having a reaction to the treacle!" an older woman's voice came through the fog. "Hold her down. I have to get the counter-agent."

Shoved onto her back once more by unfriendly hands, she struggled, wanted to desperately curl up into herself just to make the pain go away, but two hands grabbed her ankles and put pressure on them while another set did the same with her arms and shoulders again.

"I'm here, baby," Draco's voice soothed nearby. "Stop fighting me."

Hermione was ill all the way down to her guts. "It hurts," she whined in between tears, tiredly flopping around now as her strength drained from her quickly. "It hurts. Draco… help. Make it stop. Please… ANYTHING!"

She felt a cool cheek pressed against hers as she panted, trying to catch her breath. "I will, I promise," he spoke gently in her ear. "We're getting you medicine right now, Hermione. Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe." His low, soothing voice had a calming effect, and she focused on it, trusted it. She took a deep breath with him and it spiked pain all the way into her spine, but she did it. Once, twice, three times. "That's it, baby. Just keep breathing with me," he encouraged.

She wasn't sure of time passing, and she couldn't see, her eyelids slammed shut against her will, so she did what she could: focused on breathing and tried to close off the pain. Draco kept crooning to her in her ear, and she followed his instructions.

"We've got the medicine to get you better now," he explained suddenly. "Open your mouth so the nurse can give it to you, okay?"

Hermione weakly did as bade, and this time, a cool, minty flavor passed her tongue and she swallowed convulsively. Within a minute or two, the blistering in her mid-section was gone and her spasms ceased; her eyelids still remained fervently shut, however, despite her best attempts to open them. The hands on her legs let go and Draco's hold on her shoulders let up.

"How do you feel?" a familiar voice asked her off to her right.

She turned her head. "Harry? I feel better, but I can't open my eyes. What's going on?"

There was dead silence in the room for several seconds.

"'Mione, what do you see right now?" Harry asked her tentatively.

She shook her head. "I can't see anything. I told you: my lids won't let up."

More silence.

Something was really wrong.

"What is it?" she asked, suddenly very afraid.

"Baby," Draco's hand on her chin turned her head towards him, his voice was soft, but there was a tremor of fear underneath she picked up on. "Your eyes are wide open."

Hermione pulled her face away from Draco's touch, suddenly irate with him. "Nonsense!" she affirmed strongly. "Draco, look, I know you're really angry with me for the other day, but that was all a misunderstanding. I don't feel that way about Ron, okay? He's just my friend. I told you that. This kind of thing… to get back at me… it isn't funny."

There was a rather long, suspicious pause as she finished her denunciation.

"'Mione, Malfoy's not lying to you," Harry informed her, his voice tight. "Your eyes are open."

Hermione's world started crumbling around her. What? No… that wasn't right. She was insistent that Harry and Draco had to be incorrect. It was ridiculous. She couldn't be… "No, I'm fine," she shook her head resolutely. "It must be a result of all of the philters I just took working together. Just give me some room. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey spoke to her somewhere off to her left. "You had a reaction to either the Alihoxy or the Treacle antidote. I'm not sure which, but I'd like to do some tests. If we can determine the cause, we may be able to treat the symptom of your blindness."

She clenched her fists in her lap. "Don't say that word!" she hissed in anger, her terror bristling her temper. "I'm not that! I'M NOT!"

No one answered her; she could literally feel the auras of discomfort and pity as a palpable thing on her tongue and it enraged her further, made her almost irrationally snap at everyone around her to stop being so thick witted and depressing…

And that's how she figured it out.

"Sneezewort."

"What?" That came from Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione tried to locate the direction the Medi-Witch was in, so she could at least stare at the right angle. "On Monday, I brought Ron Weasley here for Sneezewort treatment, remember? I think I may have been exposed to it, too. I've been feeling very… angry and overly emotional since then."

"But Sneezewort doesn't cause a reaction as you experienced," Professor Sprout countered from near the end of the bed. "It makes one angry, not hysterical. Definitely not bli… ahem… go without sight."

Hermione shook her head. "On its own, but I remember hearing once on the "Toots, Shoots 'n' Roots" radio program that Sneezewort, Lovage and Scurvy-grass all inflame the judgment and sensation parts of the brain, and that any mind-altering herb used in conjunction with them could cause a variety of negative reactions. Alihotsy is a hysteria-inducing plant. It definitely alters the mind by attacking the judgment section of the brain, just like Sneezewort. However, instead of rage, it triggers fear. It also goes after the memory section, causing a person to relive painful and scary moments in their life." She reached a hand up and pressed it against her forehead. "I never got treated for Sneezewort poisoning, so I think it somehow worsened the effect of the Alihotsy on me. I started having terrifying flashbacks to the war at the same time as everything went black. That increased pressure in my head… well, it makes sense that something had to shut down temporarily."

Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath and let it out. "Well, that would also explain why you had a reaction to the Glumbumble Treacle. Sneezewort requires a Calming Draught to fix its effects, but the Treacle works by creating heightened happiness. The two emotions are at loggerheads." A warm, comforting hand touched her shoulder and she knew it belonged to the older witch. "Thank goodness your memory wasn't impaired, Miss Granger. Now that we know a probable cause, I think there's a way to treat the blindness. If we eradicate the effect of the Sneezewort in your system, you should regain your sight as soon as the brain's inflammation decreases."

"How long will that take?" Draco asked, his voice gruff, as if he'd been holding back tears.

"A few days. By the weekend she should be fine."

There were three loud, relieved breaths in the room to match Hermione's own. "Thank Godric," she prayed.

"Well, now that we have a place to start, I'll go retrieve a Calming Draught," Madam Pomfrey explained and Hermione heard the woman quickly move off.

Professor Sprout cleared her throat. "Yes, well, I have duties to attend to," she explained. "I'll check on your progress with Madam Pomfrey later, Miss Granger." The tiny, plump witch cleared her throat again. "I expect you won't be in class later today for the N.E.W.T. Prep, but I certainly hope you'll be well enough by next Wednesday. Be well, dearie." The click-clack of heels on the stone floor was loud as Professor Sprout made her exit.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, putting her left hand out at chest level.

He caught it, and brought it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "I'm here, Granger," he reassured her, then tucked her fingers into his and brought them against his heart.

"Will you stay?" she asked simply, hoping he'd agree.

"Of course, baby," he consented without hesitation.

She turned to where she thought her best male friend was. "Harry? Do you have my bag?"

"Right here, 'Mione," Harry confirmed, and she heard him shift something – her satchel, presumably - around.

Hermione hesitated, and then plunged ahead with her request. "Can you hand me my wand out of it, please? I just… need to feel it." There was a rustling sound and then the familiar touch of smoothed vine wood pressing against her fingertips once more brought immediate relief, much as Draco's hand had, and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief, gripping both of her beloved "items" tightly in her two hands. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling hot tears gather in her eyes and streak down her cheeks. She sniffed in amazement, reaching up to touch her cheek with the hand that held her wand. "That's funny, I can feel them, but I can't see them. Isn't that odd?"

Draco crushed her to his chest then, holding her as if he would never let her go and she pressed her nose into his neck and let his unique scent wash over her.

"I… I'm going to go, 'Mione," Harry hesitantly explained. "I'm sure the word is out all over the school about what happened in class by now, and I want to let everyone know you're going to be okay."

She nodded against Draco's shoulder tiredly. "Okay. And Harry, thank you. For being here for me."

There was a pause. "I'll always be there for you, 'Mione. You know?" With that, she heard him move off, his dress shoes ticking away swiftly, marking his exit from the long, hallowed room.

Draco continued to hold her, and now he was stroking her hair, nuzzling her cheek. "Do you need anything?" he whispered in her ear. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head. "Just keep holding me, Draco. Don't let go."

He kissed her throat, her jaw, her cheek and then her lips. "I'm sorry."

She gave a small, sad laugh. "This wasn't your fault. I'm the one who touched the glove to my fool head."

"Not about today," he explained. "I mean about Monday. I didn't trust you, and I'm sorry," and he bent his head and kissed her tenderly, a soft pull of lips. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Forgive me?"

Hermione tried to turn this bad situation around, giving him a smile. "Only if you promise to sneak back in here tonight and stay with me," she schemed in a whisper. "It's Wednesday and it's our night, and I'm not giving up time with you because of this."

He fervently embraced her again. "Christ, Granger… you're… you're fucking amazing." He huffed a little in wry amusement. "Yes, I'll come to be with you tonight. Although, I think lessons are on hiatus for a bit. We can just hold each other."

"And kiss," she nuzzled him again. "I want you to kiss me. I need to practice for that "Outstanding" I have yet to earn."

She felt his smile against her cheek. "Your wishes are mine to give, baby."

Madam Pomfrey came back with the Calming Draught within the hour, which Hermione ingested with more than a few "Blechs!" and "Yucks!" in between each gulp, and then she laid down to sleep, the potion having a restive component added to it. Draco stayed with her as her mind fell into a serious sloom and Mr. Sandman paid her a much needed visit.

Draco stayed by Hermione's side as she slept most of the day away, skipping Quidditch practice, but sending a note ahead to his teammates to request they make up for tonight on Saturday afternoon instead. Then, at nine o'clock, Madam Pomfrey kicked him out, so he went to the Gryffindor Common Room looking for Potter. He was let in with much suspicion by Seamus Finnegan, who went off to find Harry in the boy's dorms for him.

While he waited, Draco shoved his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants and looked around the Tower Common Room of the Golden Lions for the first time. It was much smaller than Slytherin's Common Room, but what it lacked in space and grandeur was made up for in quaintness. It had a charming, squire feel: lots of cozy, well-used furniture covered in plush pillows, tapestries on the walls and thick rugs on the floors. Bright reds and golds were the predominant colors in everything from stripes to paisley patterns. There was a roaring fire in a giant hearth that kept the room well lit and cheerful and a large, unmoving portrait of Godric Gryffindor above the mantle. It was a very informal room made for comfortably lounging and partying, not for formal entertaining, as his House's main area was so designated.

Potter came down and Draco whispered his favor to the guy, hoping their former enmity had been put aside where Hermione was concerned. To his relief, Scarhead acquiesced to Draco's request, and left to go back up to his room to retrieve the important item of the hour. When he came back down, the front of his shirt bulged slightly. Directing Draco outside the portrait and around a corner, Harry reached under his clothes and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. "Keep it for as long as 'Mione's in hospital," his one-time rival offered. "But I'll want it back as soon as she's discharged, Malfoy. And don't use it for any other purpose. I trust you with this."

Draco was reaching for the cloak when he stopped himself. "Why?"

Harry blinked, seemed confused by the question. "Because she asked you to stay with her, and this is the only way you can without getting you both in trouble."

"So, for her, huh?" Draco asked, wanting to understand exactly the reason Potter had been so accepting of his relationship with Hermione from pretty much the get-go. It seemed somehow antithetical to how he'd expected the guy to behave.

Potter nodded. "For you both." He shoved the cloak into Draco's hands. "Don't get caught with it or we're all in trouble." With that, he turned and made his way back into his Common Room with a whisper of the password to his portrait.

Stunned, but not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Draco donned the Invisibility Cloak, making sure he was completely covered by hunkering down, and then he snuck back through the castle, passing unnoticed by two Prefects on their nightly rounds, Mrs. Norris (who was chasing a mouse down a corridor), and Professor Snape walking with Professor McGonagall. He had to actually pause and remain absolutely still as the two teachers passed by him, praying they didn't accidentally bump into him.

"Are you sure?" the Assistant Headmistress asked her companion, her face a mask of pain, and Snape nodded, his black eyes seeming to soften in the torch lit hallway.

"There's no doubt. The boy has until graduation, at the most."

McGonagall nodded. "Then by all means, take as much of the medicine as he needs. We'll just have Horace sell what he can to St. Mungo's now, and I'll ask Pomona to cultivate more for a spring harvest."

Snape paused in his walk and McGonagall stopped a step later. "I'd like to purchase the medicine he'll need from my own salary," Snape offered. When the old witch seemed to want to argue, Severus held up a hand. "I insist, Minerva."

McGonagall's aged face softened and she placed a warm hand on Snape's arm. "You are a good man, Severus. Thank you."

The two moved far off down the opposite hall and Draco could hear no more, but he couldn't help but wonder to whom were they referring? Some student at school was apparently very ill and it sounded like he (for Snape had said 'boy') was terminal. He hoped it was no one he knew.

He could give the situation no more thought though, the overwhelming compulsion to reach Hermione's side overcoming his natural inquisitiveness. He moved on as quickly and as quietly as he could.

Finally, with a non-verbal Alohamora, Draco snuck back into the medical ward, checking to make sure Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. However, the woman had obviously gone off to her bed on the First Floor, which left him and Hermione completely alone in the Second Floor wing.

Walking on the edges of his shoes, he softly made his way over to Hermione and only when he was absolutely certain of their privacy did he remove the cloak from his shoulders, setting it on a nearby chair. He then charmed his wand to buzz when it was four a.m., so he could high-tail it out of there safely before the ward opened again at six. Then, removing his shoes, robes and vest, and laying them on the chair next to the Invisibility Cloak, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Hermione sleep undisturbed a moment longer.

She was out for the count; in her right hand she gripped her wand tightly. His girlfriend really trusted in magic, Draco realized startlingly, more so than anyone he'd ever known; believing in it so completely that it was her whole faith. A Muggle-born who truly loved enchantment; the idea was… beautiful - just as she was. His eyes drank in her features hungrily, even though she was half hidden in shadows, and the pale, cold moonlight coming through the tall, cathedral windows was rather dim. Her hair was its usual curly riot of muss upon her pillow, her long eyelashes dusted her cheeks, and her pretty lips were parted slightly as she breathed deeply in and out in an even rhythm. This sweet face – so honest and sincere - this was why he felt for her as he did. He could admit it now and no longer resent the truth.

Reaching out he stroked her wild hair lightly. "I love you, Granger," he whispered and smiled at the irony of how good it felt to say those words out loud, even if he couldn't say them to her while she was awake.

With a last longing look, Draco slid onto the small hospital cot next to her, lying on his side, and he wrapped an arm around her, placing his wand between them. Snuggling his nose into her hair, he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, taking comfort from her very presence, and promptly fell asleep.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Just so you're aware, I didn't make up any student names for this fanfic. The names that are not novel canon come from the various, official "Harry Potter" video games.