Wandering down to the shared common room, Hermione blushed as she saw Draco lounging on the sofa without his shirt. She smiled weakly and began to move over to the kitchenette. Every time she saw him, a red flush dragged itself from her veins and planted itself firmly on her cheeks, with no chance of going away. He looked up at her and the ugly stain on her cheeks and quirked an eyebrow at her. Without a second thought, she turned her back and fled down the stairs to the Great Hall.
Slipping into her seat, she fanned her cheeks as she reached for the breadbasket. I can't let it get to me! It was just kissing, and he isn't bothered by it, so why should I be? I need to stop thinking like this – it isn't emotional, it's physical and it's going to stay that way! Nodding slightly, she split the roll open, spilling crumbs all over her plate.
''You alright Mione? You look all hot and bothered.'' Harry smiled at her, and Hermione lifted her lips back. But her heart wasn't in it and the smile didn't reach her eyes. She had practically forgotten the conversation she had had with Malfoy yesterday, and didn't understand why she felt a sudden flash of resentment against one of her oldest friends, when all she should have been feeling was happiness that he cared enough to ask.
''I'm fine.'' Turning back to her plate, she stuffed a piece of the roll into her mouth, hoping that would be enough to deter further questions.
''Seriously, if ferret boy has done anything to you Mione, and I mean anything, I will…''
''You will what Ron? What exactly are you going to do to stop him? Because you always say that and I have yet to hear you finish that sentence. Malfoy isn't doing anything to me, and right now I just want to eat my breakfast in peace!'' She snapped and grabbed a peach out of a bowl next to her.
''Ron was only saying.'' Harry reproached her, his eyes wide.
''No he wasn't, he was trying to control my life, as per bloody usual. Don't talk to him too much, don't do this, don't do that. As if I can't look out for myself.''
''We know you can take care of yourself, we just get worried because you're so isolated in the Head Chambers. That's all it is, isn't it Ron? Isn't it?'' Harry dug his elbow into Ron's ribs. Ron glanced up sulkily and nodded once.
''Suppose so. No need to bite my fucking head off.''
''Stop trying to control me, and I'll stop biting your head off!''
''Will the pair of you just SHUT UP?'' Harry shouted, rolling his eyes. ''Honestly, you drive me absolutely mad!''
Hermione's eyes flashed angrily and she stood up, knocking her plate forward and spilling crumbs all over the table. ''Fine, I'll go.'' She spat and marched off towards the door.
Harry stared at the table, glaring at the crumbs and then sweeping them onto the floor with a knock of his hand. ''What the hell is wrong with her?''
''That time of the month? She'll be fine by tomorrow.''
But Hermione's behaviour didn't change at all. She was consistently brilliant in her lessons, friendly to the girls in Gryffindor, pleasant to the other houses, running the Prefect meetings as usual, liasing with Professor McGonagall. But she barely spoke to Harry and Ron, apart from the bare minimum, and even that appeared to be laced with hate.
Ron and Harry couldn't understand. They didn't see Hermione and Draco sitting in their common room every night, having a drink and chatting away, with Draco dropping choice little nuggets of poison into Hermione's ears. Under his guidance, her hatred of her two oldest friends was becoming more and more ingrained and obvious.
As her hatred grew, Draco's attraction to her grew. He could look at her and admit that she was utterly gorgeous, secure and happy. So what if she was a Mudblood? The Lord that he served was a Halfblood, and he wanted Hermione to work with him, so she couldn't be that bad. Now that she was separated from the other two, she wasn't unbearable. She wasn't a know-it-all, she was just amazingly clever. She wasn't ugly, she had just been waiting to blossom. She wasn't naïve, she was innocent. She wasn't a Gryffindor, she was Hermione. And Merlin, every time I see her, I want her more.
Hermione was finding Draco more and more attractive, giving him the kind of status that young girls give to their moviestar crushes. If she could have plastered her room with posters of him, she would have. Every time she saw him, she wanted to throw herself at him and have him kiss her to within an inch of her life. She still obstinately told herself that the crush was purely physical, with no hint of emotion, and that she still wanted to bring him down. But that only made her think of Harry and Ron. Some part of her knew that she wasn't being fair to them, and that they had never spitefully tried to pull her away from another guy, but that part was easily overwhelmed by the seething wave of resentment that overcame her whenever she even thought of them. Whereas Draco…
And it was becoming far more emotional. It is impossible to talk to someone for hours at a time and not form some kind of emotional attachment to them. And when Draco wasn't being a spiteful prick (which he wasn't around Hermione) he was sweet, and funny and clever. Essentially, he was every teenage girl's ideal crush. And Hermione, while being the brightest witch of her generation, was still a teenage girl and subject to exactly the same crushes that all other teenage girls got. Regardless of what her logic knew, Hermione's emotion was telling her that Draco was practically golden, just slightly tarnished from the Deatheater association. If anyone had so much as tried to suggest that Draco was drugging her, they would have found themselves at the receiving end of a particularly venomous curse. Draco was on a pedestal and Hermione had no intention of letting him fall. If it hadn't been for the fact that she had sworn to the Order to try and break Draco Malfoy, she wouldn't have had a problem.
That was the other problem. She desperately wanted to speak to someone in the order, aware that she was undergoing a complete personality makeover, and not entirely liking it. If she could speak to Tonks, she just knew that she could sort the entire problem, and go back to hating Draco, and loving Harry and Ron. But the Order had decided that the three recruits should be left entirely alone, so that they acted authentically. If they were receiving orders, it was quite possible that Draco would notice that something was wrong. Contact was only to be made if there was an extreme emergency, and Hermione couldn't quite convince herself that she was an extreme emergency – a little misguided, yes, a major disaster, definitely not. Neither Harry nor Ron had thought to contact the Order, still believing that Hermione's mood swings were down to stress or some kind of extended PMS. So Hermione carried on lusting after Draco and ignoring her best friends.
But rejection can only go so far, and Ron and Harry cracked after an incident that Draco had desperately been hoping for since the start of term. It happened on a perfectly normal evening in the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron were sitting at a table, working out new Quidditch plays, while Hermione sat in front of the fire reading. The boys began enchanting the diagrams to wriggle around, laughing as they watched their opponents being smashed on the paper.
''Mione, come and see!'' Hermione stood up reluctantly and went and stood behind them, watching the red and gold arrows destroy all comers.
''Which one is that?'' she asked, pointing at an arrow that had been attacked by the entire team.
''That's Malfoy.'' Ron laughed, looking at her and expecting her to join in with the joke.
''Ron! That's utterly vile!'' she grabbed the sheet of parchment and tore it in half.
''Mione, have you forgotten who Malfoy is?'' Harry asked her, waving a hand in front of her eyes. She pushed it aside angrily.
''You know, if you would just take some time to get to know him, he's an amazing person!'' seeing the incredulity on their faces, Hermione forgot the caution with which she had proceeded for the past couple of weeks and continued to give her two friends a complete run down of Draco's positive aspects. But before she could finish, Ron stood up in front of her and pushed past her towards the stairs to his dormitory. Harry, guessing where his best friend was going, grabbed the remaining parchment sheets and followed him. Hermione suddenly realised that she might have gone too far. ''Where are you going?''
''I don't have to stand there and have my best friend tell me about how wonderful my enemy is.'' Ron spat at her. ''It appears that you've forgotten everything that Malfoy's done to us, but I'm not going to.''
''Ron…it's not like that.''
''Just fuck off back to him Hermione.''
Hermione bristled. ''How dare you speak to me like that Ronald?''
''I think the question is, how dare you speak to me like that Hermione? You clearly aren't the girl that I've been a friend with for so long, because she had some sense of whom her real friends were, and she wouldn't do anything to hurt them. By definition, shacking up with the enemy, generally involves hurting friends!''
''Harry? Do you think the same as him?'' Hermione turned to him, her eyes wide.
''Maybe you should go Hermione.'' Those words could have sounded so caring, but just scorched her ears. Shaking her head slightly, she grabbed her book and moved out of the Common Room. She was back in her quarters before she gave in to the tears and then Draco was there, willing to wipe her tears away, and remind her of how much she hated the boys anyway. Of course, the mug of hot chocolate that he had made her helped a lot as well.
Draco couldn't help grinning over the top of Hermione's head as she nestled her head on his shoulder. The Dark Lord had set an extremely demanding schedule, and he had been worried about meeting it, but with this new development it looked as though he would be ok. Cupping Hermione's chin in his hand, he raised her face and lost himself in her lips. Everything was going to plan.
Of course, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, and as Draco had identified, there was a major problem with this entire set up. If Hermione failed to take the potion for one night, she would revert to her usual self, with full knowledge of what had been done to her. Tonight would be that night.
Draco was having the loveliest dream he had ever had. Hermione had casually savaged Wonderboy and his pet in front of the entire school, leaving them red and gaping as she glided away from them. Walking straight up to Draco, she had kissed him with more conviction than he had ever been kissed, and then rolled up his sleeve to kiss the Dark Mark on his arm. Suddenly, she was a Deatheater and…then she was killing? He frowned in his sleep. Hermione shouldn't kill – she was far too innocent to have someone else's blood on her hands. Hell, if he couldn't manage it, then surely she wouldn't be able to.
''Hermione, don't!'' he shouted and ran towards her, hoping that her wand would fall, and as she turned towards him, her arm lowered.
''But why Draco?'' her face was a picture of complete innocence and confusion. ''I thought that was what you wanted me to do. Why else would I be a Deatheater?''
''I don't know.'' He ran his hands through his hair. ''But you shouldn't kill. I know that.''
''Well then, why am I here?'' She cocked her head to one side, the man she was going to kill completely vanished. It was just the pair of them now.
''Because I can't bear to lose you.'' Draco blurted, staring into the gorgeous eyes that looked at him with such trust.
''You wouldn't lose me if I killed someone.''
''I would! You wouldn't be Hermione anymore, and you're too precious to be lost.''
''Well why didn't you tell me before?''
He stepped towards her and ran his hands up her cold arms. ''Before what?''
''Before he came and took me away.'' Voldemort's face suddenly loomed over the two young people. ''He wants me for his, Draco. I'm going to be lost. You never told me that you needed me, you never told me that you wanted me! I didn't know what you wanted me to do. I thought this was what I needed to do to keep you!'' Hermione had tears running down her face now, as Voldemort's cold fingers closed around her waist and yanked her away, leaving Draco with tears on his face and completely alone.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and he breathed in deeply. I don't want Hermione to be a murderer. Hell, I barely want her to be a Deatheater. Still, if she does that, I'm sure she could stay safely in the background. But wait… Draco paused as he realised that he was already beginning to build an entire future where he and Hermione were blissfully happy, despite the Lord.
But could he be happy without the Lord? Everything in his family life had indicated that the happiness of the Lord was the most important thing. So, if he kept Voldemort happy then maybe, just maybe, he could keep Hermione?
But he didn't want Hermione to be a caged animal, made to perform magic and kill on command. He wanted Hermione, just the way she was, completely innocent. So…
I could…I could get her to admit her feelings for me. I know she has them, she quivers whenever I touch her. And then, I could say what I'm doing, and why I want her with me. And then, because she wants me, she'll do a few things for the Lord, but she'll stay untouched by the War and then we'll be happy. Draco lay in his bed, happily building his castles, but painfully aware that the Hermione he wanted, was drugged into her current state. Yes, she fancied him, but everything else was an illusion created by the potion. She would never willingly work with Voldemort, no matter how she felt towards Draco.
Sighing, he thought hard about the problem. Seeing no solution to the problem of Voldemort, he decided that this evening he would tell Hermione how he felt about her. Under the influence of the potion, she would confide her feelings as well – and that would get that problem out of the way at least.
Why does everything have to be so confusing?
Later that evening, Hermione sat in front of the fire. She was looking forward more and more to this part of her day. While it was fun chatting with the girls, she also liked having male company, and Draco was fast taking the place of Ron and Harry, with the added benefit of being far more attractive.
However, he seemed to be able to distinguish between the physical and emotional parts of their relationships with far more ease than she was. Before and while they were drinking, they spoke and that was it. After they had finished drinking, however, that was Draco's cue to tackle her and kiss her so hard that her lips felt tender the next day. But even that small bruising was enough to make her smile blissfully. Even while she was kissing him, she knew that she wanted more, that she wanted to feel every inch of his skin against hers, and the kissing would one day have to give way to more. But, first, she needed more from him than discussion of the latest wizarding scandal, although she knew she was never likely to get it.
Which was why she was so surprised when Draco swept into the common room without any drinks and captured her lips in a kiss tenderer than any of their previous encounters. His hand tangled in her hair as he gently moved his lips against her. Sliding down next to her, he pulled away from her lips and placed tiny butterfly kisses against her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, gradually working back down to her mouth. Just as he was losing himself in her mouth, which tasted of the fresh mint of toothpaste, he felt the Dark Mark burning. No matter how much he wanted to stay (Hermione had an extremely intriguing top on, that seemed to require some kind of further investigation, and kissing her was so dizzying that he wanted to drop his heart on her lap at that very minute), there was nothing for it. I have to go…I'd better pretend that I've been planning to do this all evening. Oh shit…I need to go but Hermione don't do that when I'm trying to leave! Oh, one more kiss won't matter…fuck that hurts, I suppose it does matter! Desperately wrenching himself from her soft mouth, wishing more than anything to lose himself in her again, Draco stared deep into her eyes.
''Darling, I have to go out this evening.''
The look on her face was heart breaking. ''Oh…really?''
''But I couldn't leave without doing that. When I get back, we're going to talk ok? About everything?'' seeing the panic on her face, he stopped and smiled ''it's a good talk! I have no intention of ending this unless you do.'' She smiled at him, her eyes wide with adoration. ''And keep the top on. I definitely need to examine that closely.''
Smoothing a final kiss onto her mouth, Draco left the room, running up to his room to grab his uniform and the portkey that would take him to the meeting. His lips tingled with the taste of Hermione and he thought about her dreamily, remembering everything about her, loving everything about her. He completely forgot that he hadn't given her any of the potion.
Hermione woke up the next morning, her head feeling remarkably clear. Draco hadn't come back by one in the morning, so she had decided to go to bed, leaving the 'intriguing' top on her chair. Lifting her head up and smiling at it briefly, she flopped back down onto her pillows and thought about Draco.
But…there was something that wasn't quite right. She knew that Harry and Ron would never have approved of her feeling this way about the boy that had been so repetitively vile from the very first day of Hogwarts, but that wasn't it. Why had she been so horrible to them? Was she…resentful? About anything?
Dredging through her thoughts, she couldn't think of any reason to be horrible to her best friends. I mean, they wouldn't have approved, and I would have gotten over it, they wouldn't have dragged me away from him because I would have realised that it was stupid. So what's wrong?
With a sudden flash of clarity, Hermione knew exactly what had happened. The cosy late night sessions with Draco that had always involved a drink of some kind…apart from last night!
Leaping out of bed, she ran to her desk and rummaged for her potions textbook. Quick…quick! Where the fuck is it? I think I know what it is, but please, please let me be wrong. Please don't let him have been tricking me all this time, please don't let everything have been a lie. Oh shit. Hermione let the book fall open.
The Melange Subtil is a highly dangerous and powerful potion, not to be attempted by beginners. This brew has the combined effects of Veritaserum and the Imperius curse, causing the taker to not only become extremely truthful, but to become victim to all manner of suggestions. Emotional responses can become much exaggerated while under the influence of this potion, and…
Hermione dropped the book. She didn't need to read any further. She knew exactly what it was going to say (after all, she had already memorised her textbooks); she had just needed the confirmation. Malfoy had been drugging her, turning her against her friends, using her tiny crush to manipulate her entire life. A tear rolled down her face – it didn't appear that her crush would disappear with the potion. She had trusted him, and he had manoeuvred her shamelessly, with no regard to her feelings. Another tear fell onto the book – had he ever felt anything for her?
Slowly pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, crying the entire time, lamenting the relationship that never was, she recalled the look on Draco's face as he had spoken to her last night. How could he have done that? Used her for his own ends, with no regard to anything? Because he was a Malfoy, she supposed, although she had thought he was different. Suddenly, she gasped. What about Harry and Ron? Without even stopping to put on a pair of shoes, she ran out of her room, tearing along the corridors, sobbing as she sprinted.
The first that Ron knew about Hermione coming out from under the potion was when a small, brunette with bare feet dashed into the common room and looked around desperately. He stood up ''Hermione?'' Letting out another desolate sob, the fragile figure flung herself into his arms and cried madly. Only understanding the occasional phrase, he stroked her back repeatedly and murmured the meaningless platitudes that people do on such occasions. Making eye contact with a first year, he indicated that he wanted him to go to the dormitory and find Harry. With a series of increasingly intricate head movements he told the rest of the room that he wanted them to piss off NOW!
Reluctantly, everyone else stood up and moved away, perfectly aware that a huge scandal was taking place under their very noses, and furious that they couldn't take part in it, or at least find out what it was about. Harry came down the stairs, his hair even more of a mess than usual, wearing a scruffy pair of jeans and t-shirt. Rubbing the top of his head in confusion, his eyes snapped open as he saw the distraught form that Ron was trying to comfort.
Poor Ron was even more ambushed than Harry was. On the few occasions that he had had to comfort Ginny, she had usually stopped crying after a few minutes after he had told her 'don't worry everything will be ok'', even if it was just to snap ''Merlin, Ron, you're so bloody useless! Mum!'' But Hermione didn't show any signs of stopping, and he could feel the front of his t-shirt becoming more and more soaked.
In the end, Harry put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her away, loosening her hands where they were clutching Ron's t-shirt. ''Darling, darling you have to let go…come on…come on, sit down here.'' He sat her on a sofa, and he and Ron sat on either side of her, trying to comfort her. Eventually her sobbing stopped enough for her to choke out an apology. ''I'm so sorry, so so so so so sorry! He…he…he… drugged me!'' With that, Hermione dissolved back into tears.
Ron looked over her head at Harry. He had never felt anything like the rage that he was feeling now. His feelings for Hermione were no longer amorous, but he still felt protective towards her – he was practically her brother. Looking at Harry, he knew that he was feeling exactly the same way. Tightening the arm that he had around Mione's shoulders, letting her cry even more. ''Darling, what exactly did he do to you?''
Hermione jerked in several deep breaths, letting her crying stop, and angrily dashing away tears from her eyes. She rapidly began to filter through her memories. Which ones can I let them have? Which ones should I hide away? Suddenly, she realised what she was doing and clapped her hand to her forehead to stop it. These are my best friends. I can tell them everything…I need to tell them everything. With that in her mind, she grasped their hands, and began.
''I haven't been entirely truthful with you, partly because of the potion he gave me, but I must take some of the blame. Once we got here, and I had been living with Malfoy, I began to have a small crush on him.'' Tightening her grip on their hands, she continued. ''It didn't mean anything, it was just that we had been living in such close quarters it would have been difficult not to have been attracted to him. There wasn't anything emotional in it at all, and if it hadn't been for the potion, it would have disappeared into nothing. Even while I wanted him, I wanted to destroy him, so please don't hate me?'' She asked them, turning from one to the other. They shook their heads – what was happening now had gone beyond a crush, and that didn't matter anymore. Hermione smiled slightly in relief and carried on. ''Then Malfoy began giving me Melange Subtil. It has the joined effects of Veritaserum and the Imperius curse. He played on the fact that I had a crush on him and manipulated me, implanting hateful messages in my head – which is why I've been so bloody to you recently. Every evening he had been giving me a dose of the potion, but when he didn't manage to last night, the effects went, and I realised what he'd been doing.'' She breathed in deeply and looked from one concerned face to the other.
''Why was the bastard drugging you Mione?'' Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowed. ''You're sure that you can remember everything? He didn't…take advantage of you did he?''
''He didn't rape me. But we did kiss every evening.'' Hermione's hands clenched in the grasp of the boys'.
''Because of the potion?''
''I think so. Ron, I still have a crush on him but I'm not in love with him. I can't love him after what he's done to me.'' The spiteful little voice in her head laughed. Oh yeah? Honey, you know that you want to see him more than ever. You know that that potion just took away your inhibitions – it let you do what you wanted to do. Ok, he's a rat, but you wanted him all along. Hermione amended her statement – ''well, I have a crush on him, and I don't know how quickly it'll go, but he will never mean as much to me as you two do. Ever.''
The boys smiled in relief and stroked her hands. ''We need to know why he was drugging you Mione. Once we know that we can beat him. You said he didn't give you the potion last night. Why?''
''I don't know!'' Hermione stood up and began pacing, all tears forgotten. ''He came in, and kissed me – don't grind your teeth Ron, it's so bad for them – and then he just left, I don't know where.''
''Let's go up to your dorm! If he's up there, maybe we can get something out of him.'' Ron stood up and checked that he had his wand.
''I have a better idea.'' Hermione turned around and smiled. ''We'll go up to the dorm, but we need to get his memories in pristine condition, not in some garbled form. Harry, do you know where Dumbledore's pensieve is?