A/N: Hello lovies! Sorry I kept you waiting for so long. With the Easter holiday and my boyfriend begging for my attention while he heals from surgery, the spare time I usually reserve for this story disappeared. But I promised myself I wouldn't go to bed tonight until I did one last edit and updated, so here it is! In this chappie you'll read a bit more about Draco and, because things aren't already stressful enough for Hermione, the main plot starts up! So buckle yourselves in and keep all appendages inside the vehicle, because from here on out it's going to get bumpy!

Reviews:

SlytherinGurrl - Thank you for responding to my request! Your surprise is in this chapter. I hope you like it! =D

FindMe215 - Thank you! Yes, they are excerpts from Professor Morgana's book. They were one reason that I fell in love with the original story, so as soon as I decided to adopt it, I knew that was one aspect I was going to keep and improve on. I'm so glad you like them, too! One reason I love Dramiones so much is the banter. I love reading it just as much as writing it, so those scenes never get boring for me.

EgyptianQueen - I just want you to know that I love your reviews more and more. You give such great feedback and we think so much alike...anywho. I'm so glad you think this is going well. I enjoy cotton-candy fluff sometimes, but I always admire the meaty stories with substance and lightheartedness. I promised myself when I first started reading fanfiction that if I ever did decide to write one, I was going to strive for that perfect balance of substance and fluff. It sounds like I'm mostly succeeding, so yay! Deliciously arrogant...you know, I think that might be the perfect way to describe Draco. I never thought I would describe conversation as delicious, but the way he banters with Hermione is just so. I'll see what I can do about giving him more screentime. I had originally envisioned this as an All-Hermione-POV story, but as I was writing, I had the urge to tell Draco's side, too, so I'll work on including him more. Hahaha. You know, that's not such a bad idea...I think I might be able to fit in a duel somewhere. There's one scene later on that I'm worried is a bit OOC, so maybe I'll rewrite that part to include this interesting idea that's forming in my head as I type this...

allisonconnor - Thank you! I'm trying to be as canon as possible because I really hate reading stories where I feel like I know what the characters would do more than the author, so I want to start correcting them unless there are extraordinary circumstances, but even then there are times where I'm like "Hermione would NEVER let that situation even happen! She'd see it coming 50 kilometers away and head it off!" So please let me know if you think my writing starts leaning towards OOC. Anyway, I can't take all the credit for the staircase, as that was in the original story, but it absolutely is fun to think about what you would do if it happened to you.

()- - No worries! I totally understand. I do indeed thank you for the criticism. It is very strange that Professor Morgana can't seem to keep Draco's name straight, when she has no trouble at all with Hermione's. All I will say about that at this point is that the peculiarity of it is intentional; in other words, it's not an error that I've overlooked.

~~~\~~~

Step 3: Awakening the Reluctant Hero

For better or for worse, Malfoy men have a protective streak a kilometer wide. Once you've stolen a place in his heart, he will do whatever he can to make sure you are safe, whether or not you expressly order him to mind his own bloody business. Being a thick-headed male, however, he will most likely deny any affection for you in his own mind and therefore any action suggesting otherwise will be either subconscious or otherwise justified via some twisted logic. The worst of it will be that, when you first wake the hero in him, he will simultaneously attempt to avoid you and protect you, which is, naturally, impossible to accomplish. This will cause his mood to be fouler than a starving cat, so I therefore do not recommend playing the damsel in distress if at all possible. Then again, once the hero in him has awoken, it will be nearly impossible to put him back to sleep.

~~~\~~~

That night, Hermione sought out Professor Morgana. She had read the book she had brought from the library three times, but was hesitant to go back to grab another one, lest Malfoy still be there. She was desperate to get back to her potion anyhow. As long as Malfoy didn't squeal on her about their day together (or lack thereof), she saw no reason why she couldn't attempt to convince her mentor that she had found the answer. After all, she wouldn't really be lying since ginger root could be the answer. She just didn't think it would be that simple.

She eventually found her mentor in her study.

"Come in," Professor Morgana called imperiously to Hermione's knock.

Hermione took a deep breath and straightened up, terrified Professor Morgana would see right through her and command her to spend another day with Malfoy as punishment.

Her mentor looked up and gave her a searching look.

"You didn't come down for dinner, girl," she said by way of greeting.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, well, Dopey brought it up for me. I was quite engrossed in one of the books I saw in the library and felt more comfortable reading on my bed." Her mentor could smell a lie a kilometer away, so Hermione stuck carefully to the truth.

Professor Morgana regarded her critically, and then nodded. "I see. What do you need, then?"

"I was wondering if you could unlock the laboratory door for me. I think I've found the answer. It came to me when I was reading, and not thinking about it, just like you said."

Her mentor raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her desk chair. "Let's have it, then."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, as you know, I was having trouble because the nettles were too overwhelmed with so much armadillo bile, but I knew that if I added more, then they would interact too much and destabilize the potion. Then I recalled that the Wit-Sharpening Potion uses ginger root to counter-act the bile and act as a buffer between that and the scarab beetle. So, why not do the same with the bile and nettles?" She held her breath nervously under her mentor's gaze.

Professor Morgana pursed her lips as she thought, and at length nodded. "Sounds a little too simplistic, if you ask me, but it certainly could get you closer to the full answer. Buffers probably are the way to go. Alright, girl, go ahead. The password is veritas."

Hermione grinned in relief, thanked her, and headed toward the dungeons.

***/***

Draco was bored. He had spent hours in the library after Granger had threatened him and he had managed to read a few books, but nothing really kept his interest for long. Not even Always Over Dressed: A Study of the Green-bowed Desert Penguin of the Saharan Oases had distracted him for longer than six and a half chapters. Granger hadn't shown up for dinner, again, so he had been forced to suffer his great-aunt's presence by himself. He would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous. His aunt never allowed him to miss dinner, but Granger was doing "important work" so she got to miss it whenever she bloody felt like it.

Not that he really had anything better to do instead of eating, but his aunt was just so annoying, bragging about Granger's guaranteed success and how much more fame and political influence she would gain by association. As if Granger would go down in the history books only for creating a potion. As if she had absolutely nothing to do with the downfall of Voldemort.

Anyone who had attended Hogwarts while she was there knew without a single doubt that Potter had only survived long enough to kill the Dark Lord because Hermione Granger had been watching out for his clumsy arse. She alone had kept him and Weasel alive for all those months on the run, and when they had been caught and brought to the Manor, it had probably been Weasel's fault, the great bumbling oaf. If Granger had only been watching out for herself, she probably would have single-handedly saved the Wizarding World by destroying all the horcruxes herself and then blasting You-No-Longer-Exist back to the hell he had spawned from.

Everyone knew all that.

But he, Draco Malfoy, had known she was going to be trouble from that very first Potions class when the swot couldn't physically keep her hand down every time Professor Snape had asked a question. His father had given him one deceptively simple task when he had arrived at Hogwarts: to be the best in everything, as a Malfoy should. That first Potions class, Granger had ruined any notion of completing that task without difficulty. And when Lucius Malfoy had found out a Mudblood, nonetheless, had been getting higher marks than his perfectly pureblooded son...well, that had prompted quite a few incentives to fix that little disgrace.

But no matter how hard he had tried, he'd never been able to do it consistently. Granger had somehow always managed to complete one more piece of extra credit, or get five points higher on an exam. He had only been able to count on Potions for the highest marks in the class, but even Severus had warned him that it would be too dangerous to overtly sabotage the girl's homework scores since she rarely answered a question wrongly. The other professors had all loved the chit too much to give him better scores, so he had been stuck with his father's anger and disappointment. There had been countless lectures on all the ways Malfoys got they wanted despite the obstacles, and countless rants on how an eleven or twelve or thirteen, etc. year-old Mudblood had been able to absorb so much information about an entire world without knowing it had existed for most of her life.

But no amount of ranting had changed the facts, and the facts were that Hermione Granger was brighter than nearly every person in the school, and there was no way she would let another student usurp her rightful position as the top student. For the first couple years, he had agreed with his father that a Mudblood didn't have any right to be that brilliant, but that fateful day in Third Year, when she had slapped him hard across the face, had shifted his world view. A Mudblood had harmed him, and yet nobody had done anything about it. There were no repercussions, no secret hit wizards hiding in the bushes waiting for the perfect timing to off her for her insolence. Not even a reproach from her Head of House, though it was hard to say if anyone even knew about it aside from the six who had been present. He knew Crabbe and Goyle hadn't said a word because they had forgotten the incident mere seconds after it had happened. He hadn't told anyone, as it had thoroughly shamed him to be hit by a girl, but he had expected the Golden Trio to blab. Apparently, they hadn't said a word either.

A Mudblood had struck Draco Malfoy, and diddly squat had been done about it because nobody had been told, and that included his father. That incident had taught Draco an important lesson: No matter how a person made it seem, nobody could be omniscient. Nobody could know everything that went on in the world at all times. His father had many spies, but if he could identify them, then there was a way for Draco to hide things he didn't want his father to know. At first, he had hid small facts, like his slightly declining Transfiguration marks, or exactly how much Firewhisky he had stashed in strategic places. Later, it became the means for rebellion, for striking out on his own, for becoming Draco Malfoy instead of Lucius Malfoy, Jr.

Draco had eventually developed his own identity, and it was all thanks to Hermione Granger.

He was more in her debt than she would ever know, and it was a source of shame for him that even now, after all these years, he had no idea how to properly repay her.

THUMP!

"Dylan!" his aunt called from the other end of the hallway.

He was startled out of his reverie as his jaw went rigid, suppressing his anger. Would it really kill the bloody woman to remember his name? It was only five letters, hardly a strain on the memory. The woman knew Classical Latin! One would think a Latin name would be easy for her to remember! Senile bint.

He turned around and forced a respectful smile on his face. "Yes, Aunt?" he called back.

"Come here, boy!" she demanded.

He muttered curses under his breath, but did as she commanded. "What do you need, Aunt?" he asked politely when he approached her in front of her bedroom door.

"Go find Hermione in the laboratory and tell her I am retiring for the night. I expect a full report of her results as soon as she wakes tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Darcy."

His jaw twitched, but he held it in check. "Goodnight, Aunt."

She nodded and shut the door firmly behind her. He continued cursing her all the way down to the dungeons. I bet Granger's family doesn't order her around like an errand-girl, he sulked, and she's hinted before that they're not even poor.

If he was honest with himself, he was a tiny, wee bit hesitant to interrupt her. True, the laboratory wasn't her bedroom, but she had threatened to seriously hex him, and he didn't think she had been bluffing in the slightest. But he knew better than to ignore his aunt's request, so he went anyway.

***/***

Hermione stuck the tip of her tongue out as she concentrated on adding a few more drops of armadillo bile to the bubbling cauldron on the table in front of her. She had been right, as it turned out. The ginger root had indeed stabilized the potion, but it was still missing a major aspect.

The key to breaking a memory charm was usually to induce déjà vu and then have the patient focus on the feeling until the memory became clear enough to fully remember. Then the blocked memories were supposed to flow out of the metaphorical hole in the dam like water, filling the patient's head once again. Hermione hoped to make a potion that had two major effects. One, it would sharpen the mind and make it more sensitive to previous experiences by recognizing which associations the patient's neurons had already made. Two, it would amplify those recognized connections, hoping to intensify the déjà vu experience and therefore weaken the wall, so the patient could break through it more easily.

Needless to say, it was a tricky combination because too little would be useless, and too much could easily drive a person to insanity or suicide. Currently she was trying to balance the amounts of the amplification half, but it seemed like everything she used was too much.

Hence why she was carefully adding each drop. As she stirred in the bile, the potion turned a light purple. This time she decided to add lovage into the mix. While lovage was normally used for Befuddlement Draughts, it was an emotional amplifier, so Hermione figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

She picked up the medium-sized jar labeled "Lovage" and plucked out a few small sprigs before setting it back down in line. She dropped one sprig in and stirred, waiting for it to settle. The potion turned medium-purple. She turned up the heat exactly one degree and stirred some more. She bit her lip. Did she want to add another? She didn't think two sprigs would destabilize the potion, but it could be a more delicate balance than she thought...or maybe it would need the extra potency?

She stared at the two sprigs in her hand and then back at the potion. Oh why not! She dropped in another sprig and stirred. The color darkened and reddened, finally settling on a deep burgundy. She watched it carefully to make sure it didn't explode. She waited a full minute before releasing a sigh of relief. Good, that means the buffers will hold out if I want to substitute the extra sprig.

"Granger!" Malfoy suddenly called from the doorway as the laboratory door burst open.

Hermione jumped at the interruption, her body knocking into the worktable. The resulting tremor caused several of the jars she had lined up to slide back near the edge of the table. Her mouth gaped in horror as two of them tipped backward, threatening to spill their contents onto the floor. She lunged forward over the cauldron and snatched the jars in time to set them securely away from the ledge. She sighed in relief, but frowned as she heard the cauldron bubbling. She looked down and noticed it was getting more active. She suddenly remembered the third sprig she had been holding in her right hand and glanced down at it. Her hand was empty. She replayed her hand's trajectory in her mind and searched all around the cauldron, but it wasn't on the table. So it must've fallen in, then...

She whipped her head up and glared. "Malfoy! Look what you've-" she scolded just as the bubbles in the cauldron exploded, spitting the potion all over her face. She gasped, coughed, and sputtered, frantically and blindly searching the table behind her for something to wipe her face. She wasn't going to die, but she did not want to leave the potion in contact with her skin and facial orifices a second longer than necessary.

"Granger!" she heard Malfoy yell, panicking. He better be worried about what I'm going to do to him once I get this cleaned up! Thank Merlin I wasn't working on anything life-threatening! Stupid git.

Suddenly she felt fingers grip her chin and a cloth wiping her face clean. Recognizing that she couldn't really help, she just stood still and let it happen. When she opened her eyes, she saw that it was Malfoy's fingers holding her chin and his silver eyes roaming over her face worriedly.

"Granger, are you alright? Do you need to go to St. Mungo's?"

Hermione snorted at him amusedly but gently pushed his hand away. The spots where their skin had made contact tingled, but she ignored it. "I'm fine, Malfoy. I'm going to be okay, I promise. It's nothing life-threatening, I assure you. I wasn't using any poisons or anything."

"Oh...Alright then." His hands dropped to his sides, but he still scanned her expression for anything amiss.

Hermione suddenly found it incredibly funny that he was so worried about her. So funny, in fact, that she started giggling. She couldn't seem to stop, though.

This must have been what Malfoy was searching for, because he nodded knowingly and sighed. He quenched the cauldron fire with his wand, grabbed her hand, and led her out of the laboratory.

Hermione was trying to stop laughing, she really was. It just seemed like the more she thought about how funny it was, the more she laughed, and that made her laugh at herself, which made her laugh harder, and it got to the point where it was actually extremely difficult to breathe because she was expelling most of the air she inhaled before it even reached her lungs. She felt Malfoy trying to tug her along, but her feet stopped moving because she was bending over, clutching her stomach with her free hand. She was vaguely sure that her face must have turned a bright red.

"Granger! Look at me!" Malfoy yelled at her over her laughter, shaking her.

She cracked open her eyes and wiped away the tears gathering around them. She blinked multiple times, but now that she was focusing on trying to look at Malfoy, her hysteria started to subside. She gulped in the air she needed and finally looked up at him, panting. She was completely bent over, he hands supporting her upper body on her bent knees.

Malfoy had squatted down to eye-level with her and was staring at her intently. His hands rested on her shoulders, probably making sure she didn't fall over.

"Are you over it now?" he asked seriously.

She felt the giggles threaten to bubble from her stomach up to her mouth again, but seeing as she just nearly passed out when she gave into it, she decided to push it down this time. She couldn't help but smile, though.

She nodded. "Ya," she gasped. "I'm alright now. I think."

"Alright. Come on." He stood up and waited for her to follow suit before grabbing her hand and continuing to lead her onward.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously, ignoring the way her skin tingled wherever it touched his.

"My aunt's room. You're not exactly in any position to cure yourself, so she'll have to do it."

"Cure me? I'm sure I'll be fine. Whatever side-effects I'm experiencing, I'm sure they'll wear off soon. It's not like I drank the potion on purpose. I probably didn't even swallow a full vial. I just need to sleep it off, that's all," she reasoned dismissively.

Malfoy turned his head around to glare at her. "After that laughing fit you just had, you ought not to be left alone until we're sure it has worn off. You could have suffocated to death," he countered.

She had no reply, so she kept silent, and Malfoy turned his head back around to face in front of him.

Her eyes fell on their linked hands, and she pondered why her skin was tingling, just like when he had grasped her chin back in the laboratory. Curious side-effect, she noted. But the more she focused on it, memories started flooding her mind.

She instantly recalled the night before Graduation, but her memory fast-forwarded to naked Malfoy and the way his hands felt gliding across her own naked skin. The warmth of his body on top of hers. The heat of her own arousal coursing through her and the feeling of his own against her skin. Then the memory backtracked to the moment her orgasm had hit her. The triumphant smirk on his face just before her eyes slid shut. The warmth of her breast in his mouth. The pocket of heat generated from both of their bodies. Then a more recent memory, the feel of his lips brushing against her neck. His breath fanning across her ear as he whispered to her. The way her body yearned to fall back onto his, to bridge the gap of open space between them, to feel his body warm hers once again.

She gasped at the tidal wave of memories, heart pounding, stumbling backward and yanking her hand from his. She blinked and her eyes latched onto his confused stare. The memories didn't stop. The way he leaned in, staring into her eyes, and whispered, "I won't give up. I can be patient." The thousands of times she had glared at him and he had stared right back. The moment she had walked right up to him, said "Fuck you, Draco Malfoy," and then gave into her desire and kissed him.

She desperately broke their gaze and looked anywhere but him, shaking her head, shutting her eyes tightly, clutching her head. But the memories still kept flooding her mind. She suddenly heard a strange string of the same syllable running circles around her like a mantra:

"No no no no no no no no," and then she realized it was her.

"NO! GO AWAY!" she cried out, shaking her head frantically and crying.

Would she never be rid of him? Not even her mind was safe! How could she make it stop? Merlin, make it STOP!

Just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. She focused on the warmth surrounding her, keeping her eyes tightly closed. She didn't want to know where it came from, or why it was there. She just wanted to relax and enjoy it. She needed a reprieve and the warmth chased everything else away. She sighed and snuggled into it.

Then she registered the warmth tentatively stroking her hair and surrounding her more tightly. She liked this cocoon. Could she just stay here forever? That would be nice...

"Granger...?" a voice whispered softly.

She frowned but didn't open her eyes. Who was trying to invade her warm cocoon? She snuggled deeper in. Maybe this was a dream. If it was, she didn't want to wake up now. She liked this place.

"Granger," the voice tried again, more insistently. "Come on, Granger. Get up."

She scowled. Only one person called her Granger and was this annoying. "Go away, Malfoy," she huffed.

He laughed, and she felt her cocoon rumble disruptively. "I can't do that."

"Sure you can," she retorted. "One foot in front of the other. You can do it. I believe in you," she replied sardonically.

"Granger, you're sitting on my legs."

She frowned. Now that was just preposterous. Why on Earth would she be sitting on him? Nonsense.

He sighed. "Open your eyes and see for yourself."

So she did. She opened her eyes and stared right at his shirt. She blinked and looked down. Oh. Would you look at that. She was sitting in his lap. How embarrassing. She blushed and quickly removed herself.

"Sorry," she muttered without looking at his face. She didn't have to look at his mouth to know he was sitting there smirking at her.

She cleared her throat and dusted herself off, and then halted. She put the pieces together. Okay, so, whatever emotion I focus on, I either recall memories similar to it or I get caught up in the extremity of the emotion. So all I need to do until it wears off is just focus on pleasant, happy emotions, and I should be okay.

"Granger?"

"Huh?" She looked up. "What?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I said, are you ready to keep going?"

Hermione looked around and noticed they were now on the main floor in front of the main staircase. Her eyes widened and she backed away, staring at it. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

He frowned. "Why not?" Then he looked back and saw the staircase. "Oh, right. Well, I'm certain it will notice you're obviously under the influence, so it won't mess with us this time."

She shook her head, trying not to focus on the staircase and the memories it evoked. Think happy thoughts, Hermione. Happy thoughts. Better yet, just don't be emotional at all, if you can. She took deep breaths and focused on logic.

"No, Malfoy. You don't understand. The potion is throwing me back and forth between emotional extremes. Even thinking about that staircase is starting it up again. Just - just go up yourself, get your aunt, and bring her down here. I'll be okay, I promise. I just need to keep my eyes closed and stay calm."

"Are you sure?" he asked suspiciously.

Was he really that worried about her? Huh. Go figure. She nodded, still keeping her eyes shut.

"Positive. Just go. I'll be okay here."

"Alright, then. But if you're wrong again, I'm not going to believe you ever again when you say that," he warned.

She couldn't stop a smile from forming on her lips, but she was able to shove the laughter back down.

"Okay, just go!" she yelled. She sighed in relief when she heard his footsteps running up the stairs.

In order to prevent herself from thinking anything emotional, she timed him. She counted every second that he was gone, and relief flooded her when she heard the familiar sound that announced her mentor's presence.

THUMP!

"What did you do to yourself this time, girl?" Professor Morgana reproached.

The memory of the potion exploding popped into her mind instantly and her eyes flew open. She glared and pointed at Malfoy.

"It was all his fault!" she shouted. "I was doing my work, minding my own business, when he burst through the door, not even with a knock, and scared me half to death! He made me bump into the table and nearly shatter the ingredient jars, so I had to catch them, but the extra lovage dropped into the cauldron and the potion exploded in my face!" She was absolutely enraged by the time she finished explaining.

"Calm yourself, girl! No use getting so riled up over spilt potion," her mentor reprimanded.

Hermione shut her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to focus on her breathing. At length she was calm enough to explain.

"Sorry, Professor. It's the potion. I got some of it in my mouth and up my nose, in addition to whatever made skin contact. It's amplifying all my emotions to their extremes. It must have been extremely potent since I only got a little compared to the whole cauldron."

"What was in the cauldron? How much lovage?"

"Um, three sprigs-"

"Three? Didn't you think that would be a bit much, girl?"

Hermione frowned. "Yes. I only added two, and only then because I was feeling adventurous, then that git over there made me drop the third one in accidentally."

"Hmm...How much did you say you ingested?"

Hermione gnawed on her lip as she measured it mentally. "Enough in my mouth to coat my tongue. A little went up my nose, but practically my entire face was covered, though I'm not sure if that counts."

Professor Morgana turned to her great-nephew. "How hysterical was she?"

"She nearly suffocated because she couldn't breathe properly, she was laughing so hard. And then she stared at me and went mental, clutching her head and talking to herself. I had to snap her out of that one, too. And then she got very...er...clingy before she figured out how to stay calm," he replied uncomfortably.

She nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right. Well, congratulations, girl. Your potion basically works. It's just a bit too potent, I think. Give it a day or two, and it should wear off. If it doesn't, then we'll talk. I'm going back to bed." Without another word, she started climbing back upstairs.

"That's it?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "'Just give it a couple days?' That's all you have to say?"

She gave her nephew an odd look. "What more do you expect, boy? She just created this potion. There's no antidote yet. Surely you realize that. You are related to me, after all."

"That's not what I meant," he snapped impatiently. "Aren't you going to look after her?"

His aunt scoffed. "Don't get snippy with me, boy. She's a big girl. She can take care of herself. She's in no immediate danger, and now that she knows she can't laugh, she'll be fine."

"Aunt, you can't be serious! She won't be fine until the potion wears off! You didn't see her fits!" he accused.

His aunt rolled her eyes and looked toward Hermione. "Girl, you can take care of yourself, right? You know what you can and can't do now?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but Professor Morgana continued anyway, so she closed it.

"See? She agrees. Mind your own business, boy, and go to bed."

Malfoy glared at his aunt's retreating back. "Fine! If you're going to neglect her, I'll take care of her. Some healer you are!" he called up to her bitterly.

"How very nice of you, boy," came her patronizing reply.

Malfoy glared upstairs for a few more moments before sighing and walking over to Hermione. He held out his hand to her.

"Come on, Granger. Let's get you to bed."

Hermione stared at his hand and then the staircase. She shook her head. "No. Bad idea, Malfoy."

He glared at her impertinence. "Fine. You go up first and then when you reach the second floor, I'll follow you. Is that better?"

She hesitated. "...I suppose that might work..."

"Good. Off you go, then." He stared at her and waited. She glanced at him and then at the staircase, hesitating.

"Now, Granger, or I'm pulling you up that staircase myself!"

"Alright! Fine!" she squeaked, dashing toward and up the stairs. When she reached the top, she let out a sigh of relief, trying her best not to think about anything involving Malfoy, and waited for him.

He escorted her to her room and followed her inside. She collapsed onto her bed and watched him look around critically.

"I suppose this will do," he concluded. Then he turned his critical gaze on her. "I'll be right back. You're not to leave this room until I say, understand?" he ordered.

Completely at a loss in the presence of this new caring side of Draco Malfoy, she merely nodded.

He turned around and promptly left the room, leaving the door wide open.

Hermione couldn't possibly guess what he was planning to do, not that she really tried. It was hard enough being around him and trying to think of unemotional things because everything about him evoked an emotion in her. So really, she couldn't spare any brain power trying to guess his thoughts when she was busy trying to pretend he wasn't there.

All too soon, he returned carrying a large black travel suitcase that looked like it was filled to the brim. He set it down gently on the bed next to her feet - He must have put a Featherweight Charm on it, she surmised - and started opening it. He flipped open the cover, revealing clothes and accessories. Hermione was so intent on inspecting the contents of the suitcase, she didn't even notice he walked over to her armoire until she heard the doors open and the screeching of hangers being shoved. She whipped her head up and watched as he pushed all her clothes and shoes to the left side, leaving the right side completely empty.

Strange, she noted while watching him walk back to the suitcase, he's acting as if he were...no...NO! Malfoy grabbed a stack of shirts and walked over to the armoire.

Hermione jumped off the bed and ran to place herself between him and the armoire. "What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" she glared, hands on her hips.

He raised an eyebrow and sighed. "What does it look like, Granger?"

"It looks like you're trying to move into my room without my permission!"

"It's not your room. It's my aunt's room," he corrected.

"No, she said it was mine for as long as I lived here. And where, exactly, do you plan on sleeping?"

"The bed, of course."

"Wrong! I only see one bed in here and it's mine! You are not allowed anywhere near it!" she screeched.

He gave her a disapproving look. "Calm down, Granger. You're letting the potion get the best of you again."

"Excuse you!" she raged, shoving him backward, away from her armoire. She inwardly preened that he actually looked shocked. "You have no right coming in here and deciding that I'm just going to have to let you live in here with me! Potion or no potion you do not just suddenly decide that a girl is going to share a bedroom with you! I thought you had manners!"

By this point she had pushed him all the way back to his suitcase. He placed his clothes back down and glared at her.

"Then what do you suggest, Granger? Because my room is down the hall. And every time you've had an episode, you couldn't even manage to walk without my help, and even then we didn't get very far before you went mad. So how do you expect to come get me during the night if you can't even reach my room without collapsing?" he reasoned sternly.

"I don't need your help, you bloody prick!" she screamed.

That was when she knew she was out of control. The rage didn't stop building. Every single little mean thing he had ever done or said to her was running through her mind over and over again. All the pain, all the hurt, all the insults, all the curses, everything he had ever said to her in the eight years they had known each other infuriated her to the point of madness. She wanted to tear his hair out strand by strand. She wanted to grab the nearest semi-sharp object and flay him alive. She wanted him to feel every moment and every barb she had ever had to endure because of him. She wouldn't have been surprised, really, if he ran out of the room screaming that she had turned into a harpy from Hell.

Instead, Malfoy sighed, rubbing his temples, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her with him. She landed in his lap with a high-pitched "Oof!" She fought to stand back up, but he wrapped his arms around hers and constricted them until she couldn't move. She glared at him, and he glared right back.

"You're not well, Granger. I'm in charge of making sure you get well, and you won't do that if you fight me every step of the way. Yes, I understand moving into your room is drastic, but we don't have a choice. I can't risk you getting into an episode during the night and killing yourself somehow just for the sake of modesty. You need to keep calm, remember? I know it's difficult with our past, but you're a strong woman. I know you can do it. Trust me, I don't exactly treasure the thought of being around you all the time, but I can put aside our differences long enough to make sure you get better. And remember, it should only be for two days. Are you going to do the same?" he challenged.

As much as Hermione loathed to admit it, he was helping her already. The second he had pulled her into his arms, the comfort she had felt before returned, so all she had to do was focus on it enough to calm down. And now that she was calm, she could admit he was right. She probably would have suffocated had he not snapped her out of her laughing fit. And every fit she had seemed to immobilize her somehow. She'd probably never make it out of her bedroom, so it made the most sense to have Malfoy right there to snap her out of it.

She was just really, really not looking forward to sleeping next to him in the same bed. She was so afraid she would lose control of her emotions and let the lust take over. Seeing him even half-naked would spark it so easily. Hell, it had only taken looking at his hand to set off the lust episode! The worst part was that she knew he wouldn't mind at all, so she couldn't trust him to stop her. Maybe if she asked him nicely? Better yet, she could make him promise!

"On one condition," she replied seriously, looking straight into his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow.

She turned away and took a deep breath. "One of the emotions that can affect me is... lust. So promise me that... if I get into a fit like that, you'll stop me." She bit her lip and looked back at him pleadingly.

Malfoy chuckled. "Of course I promise."

She blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

He gave her a mock-wounded look. "Granger, I know how attractive I am. I don't need the help of a potion to seduce you into my bed. It's like cheating, and I don't need to cheat. When you and I have sex, it will be when we're both physically fit and under no influence but our own," he stated.

She blushed and looked away, clearing her throat. "Yes, well, um, thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," he replied smugly. "Feel better about the situation now?"

She nodded, embarrassed.

"Good." He scooted her off his lap and onto the bed, got up, and resumed hanging up his clothes and storing the necessary possessions in her room.

Hermione watched silently and tried not to think about him too much.

A/N2: For my next challenge, somebody give me a material type, an element (pick whichever interpretation you wish), and an action verb! Until next time...