~ The Kiss ~

Blood was pumping heavily through her veins as she had edged mere inches away from his body. All the times before this, the touching him and gazing at him intensely hadn't fazed her in any measure. But now, faced with his chest heaving, smelling the whiskey in his glass…She could see him watching her every tiny movement.
He put the glass down.

"How do you think we should kiss?"

Why did it sound so innocent?
He never had really noticed how pink her lips were before, how there were traces of amber in her brown irises. She'd never really noticed how long his eyelashes were, pure white, and how delicate his fingers were.

"Right now?"
Quietly, he let out a small chuckle.

"No – when we're in front of everyone. We can't get too drunk, perhaps maybe we should make it seem like we're tipsy, not being careful enough. Sort of like how you and Weasley were at Arran Charlesby's party."

Hermione's cheeks matched her lips.
"Were we that obvious? I was…I was incredibly intoxicated there."

"Yes, but that's how we want to come off."

"Well," she thought aloud, biting her lip, "there are probably three things to consider."

"Three things," Draco repeated, Hermione feeling unnerved by the grin forming on his face.
Of course she would have factors in something as wonderfully simple as a kiss.

"One – proximity. We should be close. Very close," she listed, watching as he edged nearer to her as they'd moved to her loveseat. "Two – touching. A romantic kiss usually does not happen when both parties aren't holding each other in some way."

"Should we go for subtle, or more obvious?"
His arm was warm; his whole body. She felt his bare skin on hers, felt him dare to caress her the way she had done him in the Spiny Serpent, hand clasping onto her thigh.
And it didn't feel bad, but it wasn't right.

"If you want us to convey more than just…lust," she swallowed, finding it harder to breathe, "I think we need to make sure our, ahem, display isn't sloppy. Intentional. Which is the third factor – intensity. It can't be a peck, but it can't be a full on make-out session. It will seem like we're too drunk as you said."

"I'm nervous, you asked me that before. But, are you afraid?"
Now it was just a whisper, feeling her tremble beneath his grasp, he prayed to something that she wouldn't feel his heart pumping in his chest.

"I'm – I'm…I'm sad."
She'd meant for it to be a statement, not an outcry.
How could she be ready to fake a relationship with someone she only days previous had despised?
How could she explain this to anyone she cared about, a boy who hurt and abused her friends?
How could she just abandon the one by who had always loved her, even if he wasn't always ready to say it?
How could she begin to isolate herself when normalcy had just been a constant in her life?

Pulling back his hand, leaning over to face away from her, Hermione hadn't realized until it was too late that she'd been mumbling all this under her breath. The alcohol had begun to take its toll.

"Draco, I'm sorry."

Shoulders rising and falling in no rhyme or rhythm had Draco sobbing, again, though softly. Placing his head in crossed arms on the sides of her sofa.
"Why? Because the truth hurts?"

"What?"
She couldn't understand, the tears and fabric muffling him.

Inhaling deeply, he steadied his breathing, not daring to face her.
"Just…don't be sorry. You're right. I am a piece of shit, and I have to drag you down with me. You didn't do anything, it's all me being fucking stupid."

Hermione reached over to rub his back.
"Draco, you aren't-"

"Stop." Though he couldn't see, he felt her flinch, he felt the air tense up from his vicious tone. "I am not a good person, okay. Why are you trying to be – to be."
He couldn't finish.

"Your friend?"
She heard him whimper, a completely miserable sound.

"Yes."

"Because…because I am your friend."

His voice hollowed when he replied, chuckling: "Don't make me laugh."

"You've been treating me like we're friends, why wouldn't I do the same?"

"That's because you're nice, I've never been nice."

Like she'd done with Ron, it was time to be brutally honest again. Recovery mode:
"Draco, up until now I haven't known you at all. You're not as bad as I thought you were, and now you're making a choice to do the right thing. You could've ignored the prophecy, but you didn't. You could've chosen to make the same mistakes you did before, but you haven't. And remember, we were children. I'm not going to hate you forever for trying to survive like I did. Draco…when I was in your manor -"

"Please," he cried, not wanting to hear this.

"When I was in your manor, you were frightened. I don't blame you for not doing anything. Voldemort tortured you when we left. You stalled for us by pretending you didn't know who we were, and if you hadn't – "she faltered, flashes of Bellatrix running across her eyes. "You're not an idiot, or a piece of shit. You're a fucking human being, don't ever forget that. At the end of all of this, you need to understand that if we can't be composed, if we can't get along, we're doomed. And we haven't killed each other yet, doesn't that say something?"

Waiting anxiously, fidgeting with her skirt hem, the seconds ticked like hours.
"Fuck," Draco finally said, wiping the wetness away with an arm, sitting up pin straight. "Jesus Christ, Granger."

"What?"
Thoughts raced through her mind; Have I said something wrong? Have I triggered him by mentioning his family? Voldemort? What the fuck am I doing?

Everything went blank and silenced in her head when he finally turned back round, brows furrowed, a frown, and the most penetrating gaze upon him. Searching for something, it seemed, as he darted his eyes back and forth, she felt her heart constricting at every shallow movement.

"You're the kindest person I've ever met."
Before she could process what that meant, before she could move an inch, he was as close as he was mere minutes ago, and he grabbed her hands.
"We should kiss now."

Protesting was at the tip of her tongue, but instead she decided to take the compliment, and take a compromise:
"Okay."

It was clumsy to edge their faces close to the other. It was uneasy, even.
Still, their lips met.
They met again when Hermione reached up to caress his face, and once more when Draco grabbed onto her waist. The third kiss lingered, the pair wondering if they felt something.
He wasn't sure how he felt, placing his head on her shoulder.
She contemplated the fact that it was nice, her hands falling to rest at his sides.

"Should we kiss like that at the party?"
Breath ghosting her ear, it took all her willpower not to quiver.

It was too late to ignore how flushed her body had become, how the desirable ache between her legs had begun to become more obvious. So, she was not thinking clearly when she swung herself over his lap, ignoring the twitch in his trousers when she'd done so.
"We should make it seem like we've kissed a thousand times. Try wrapping your arms around me, and I will to your neck."

Swallowing hard, he complied, skin tingling as her fingertips grazed his nape, and her breasts pressing into his collar. "Again?"

Nodding, Draco then leant in and kissed her again, causing a flutter to travel down her throat and into her nether regions. When she moaned, his grip tightened, as he felt her tongue dart ever so slightly over his, tasting the red wine she'd just drank.

For few minutes they practiced, losing themselves in the moment, until they came up for air.

Out of breath, Hermione was still catching hers, letting her brain catch up with her body, when she proposed the next plan of action.
"Now, let's discuss more about this party. Have you tested out that mendacium you're brewing?"

{}

Deeply immersed in Rare Potions; Fourth Edition, Hermione did not notice that a thin woman with long ginger hair had joined her in the quiet café in Chelsea. Sliding into the opposite side of the booth, she was so startled she slammed her book shut after noticing angry hazel eyes.

"Ginny. Hey, you startled me."
Smiling did nothing to move the look on her friend's face, so she prepared for the worst.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"No, I'm - How did you know I was here?"

Ginny ticking in frustration, Hermione knew she wouldn't be getting away with much in the next few minutes.
"I asked your secretary – no, I actually demanded she tell me where you were going for lunch after having to console my brother again after hearing that you had yet another date with Malfoy. What the fuck is going on?"

Inhaling the deepest of breaths, the script she'd reinvented a thousand times came to the forefront of her mind. "Is anything that I say going to persuade you not to be cross with me?"

"I –"Ginny paused, then slunk down into her seat. "No, probably not."

"You're upset because of Ron, not Draco."

"Ugh, Draco? I mean, mostly, but why him? Of everyone that would cause a rift, why would you date him?"

Now came the lies, the hardest part of any conversation lately, like her stomach was a balloon, and every single false thing she said was a pin ready to pop her at any second.
"I've tried, and Ron's tried, to be together for quite a long time. Hasn't happened."

"Sorry, didn't you hook up with Ron like three weeks ago?"

"Yes."

"And didn't he ask you on a date?"

She felt her face turning red.
"Yes, look, I can't explain why. He's attractive, he's smart, and he's just…not how I thought."

"Isn't my brother attractive and smart, too? Like, I'm not the only one thinking this is crazy, Harry has been losing his mind over this. He treated you like dirt, and if you forgave him that's your prerogative, but - Ron's mad for you. And now he has to watch you show up in the paper, going to expensive restaurants with someone who continuously flaunted his wealth in front not only him, but me too, my whole family. Just because he was able to help someone doesn't make up for that, does it?"

All the things she felt, all the things she wanted to agree with, and instead she had to try to mediate.
"It doesn't. It's not that serious right now, Ginny." Per Draco's suggestion, she was trying to leave all details about the party out. "Draco asked me to lunch and apologized for everything. He and I sometimes talked at Hogwarts, mostly about classes but… he's really matured since I've last seen him. I really just don't know what else to say."

"Merlin, so what is it you expect to happen? That we invite him over for a double date?"

Sighing, Hermione felt defeated. This would be so much easier if her loved ones would be in the know. Regardless if Draco was right not wanting to involve another life, she didn't know how much she could hold on. Plopping her head on her massive book, all she let out was a groan.

"Hermione," Ginny started after a moment, "I don't believe for a moment you would choose to surround yourself with people that are bad for you. This is just hard, we hang out with Ron so much and you so much, and he's just so…depressed."

Only three days prior she had succumbed to her baser instincts and made out with a stranger, in her house, because of a supercharged moment. And he really did feel like a stranger, she didn't know him at all. His innocence had been charming, his vulnerability made her feel weirder than she could comprehend. Who was he, really? Tears leaked from her eyes, so afraid of what the hell her future held and who would be in it left alive at the end of it. Draco must've felt like this every day, close to a breakdown, wondering what was going to happen. She hadn't even met the villains in this tale yet, she was at her wits every second.

"Hermione…it's fine. Don't – I'm sorry I made this into something bigger than it is."
Soft fingers grabbed her hand, using a thumb to rub hers.

"This is so hard."

"Look, we'll figure this out. I shouldn't have been so aggressive, I know I was crazy when I liked Harry before we were dating."

Hermione didn't have the heart nor energy to explain why she said what she said.
"What did I do to deserve you?"

{}

"Alright, hex me."
The man was standing in her door frame, clutching a tiny vial of sparkling silver liquid. Hermione was across the room, beside her vanity, looking amazing in an emerald green ball gown, unruly curls managed into a pin-up style. Her vine wand was on the dresser.

The mendacium was ripe for the tasting. Having never brewed it before, having never even seen it in any capacity, Draco knew that the only way to know if it could save them tonight from any harm would be to test it. It would absolutely be easy to tell Salvatore that his batch dosage estimate had been incorrect. The recipe he'd been given was from a book so ancient it was written in Latin.

"Draco…I don't know about this."
Draco was dapper in a matching emerald green blazer with plaid checks, black vest and matching trousers. Puffing out his chest, he seemed completely ready to receive a spell to his body.

"I followed these potion instructions meticulously. If this potion achieves even 1/10th of what it says, Granger, then we'll have nothing to worry about."

"But what about the missing dose?"

"Flobberworm juice is a really experimental ingredient. This must be one of the first known potions with such a high volume as well. I can easily explain to someone who hasn't made potions in likely decades that the gelatin condensed the recommended dosage. Or else just say honestly that I tested it on myself."
It was another night together. Another night where Draco kept surprising her with his personality.
He sounded so sincere.

"Do you think he's going to try and drug us? Use Veritaserum or something without our knowledge?"

"Tonight, probably not…but I wouldn't put it past him. Any small suspicion or slip up on our part, which is unlikely, but we're still human…I don't want to take the risk of either one of us getting hurt or, worse, separated. The number one goal is to find out what the prophecy means when it states, 'imminent destruction.'"
Sincere and also grave.

"So, you think splitting one dose of eight between us will suffice?"

"If it's supposed to last twelve hours, then six each should be enough."

"Still – I am not sure if"

"Don't you trust me at all?"
She was running nervous fingers through strands of hair, and abruptly stopped at his inquiry. Then he furrowed his brow, shaking his head; he exhaled. Why would she?
"Forget it, I just mean I know what I am doing. So, cast Confringo."

"I'm - afraid."

Admitting this, to him, allowed Draco a little more ease. Realizing how much she was putting on the line for him in the past few days, how weird their relationship had become, he'd been so sure that she would tell everyone the truth. He'd been so sure that when Harry Potter waltzed into the Ministry café where he'd been paying for a coffee, and cornered him by the sugar, he was ready to duel.
Instead, he got a mild berating and threats to treat her properly or he'd be strung up high on the resurrected statue that sat in the fountain for all to see. The man knew nothing. She was, indeed, a Gryffindor; loyal.

Slowly, quietly, he hoped this statement would persuade her: "I'm not going to let it be tested on you."

"I don't want to test it on either of us."

"Hermione."
If he was using her name, it was deliberate, and though she knew it was to get her attention and persuasion, it still surprised her, saying it now the same way he did Granger.
"You told me we were friends. I want - I want to be your friend. Just trust me, I know this is going to work."

"Okay." Trembling, she rose the wand to face level, groaning in protest after awfully long seconds. "People have died from this, Draco – I -"

"And more people will die, including us, if we don't figure this out. A powerful enchantment needs to be the one. Please just do it."

The desperation punctured her ever-shrinking wall that she'd built to hide from him, to hide from the fact she might have considered him more than an ally. This act being selfless when it was her idea to test the mendacium, something she'd never expect from a Slytherin, and someone who'd been a coward. Raising her arm once more, she took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes.
"Confringo."

Fire shot out, only four feet away, and when it penetrated Draco's chest, he only flinched. No burn marks, no residue that there'd been any impact remained, as he examined his shirt.
Laughing in relief, maybe in awe, Draco grabbed his coat from her sheets.
"I told you, that was fucking amazing. It's half seven though, let's go. The portal is only open for a ten-minute window now. We have to drink this."

Ushering her over to the fireplace that had been glowing for several hours, it was then he noticed that she wasn't okay. Placing a second vial into her hands, she seemed barely sentient popping the cork and downing it in seconds. Following suit, he took them when they were both emptied and put it on the mantle, feeling the potion enter his stomach and warming it up, like he'd done shots of whiskey.

"What could they possibly need this for, Draco?"
It escaped her mouth strained, gazing directly ahead, at nothing at all.

Grabbing Floo Powder with one hand, he grabbed hers with the other. She didn't grab it back.
"I have no clue. Theories have come into my head, but the only real thing I know for certain is that Salvatore wants this potion. He keeps asking about how well it's going. One of the rarest ingredients used is Acromantula venom, and the only known source of that is Hogwarts. But McGonagall has kept the Forest incredibly protected and they'd know if someone paid a visit. The Ministry has a big stock, something I have seen myself."

"So, all of this…was to rest on you and your potion abilities?"

The happiness of his success had worn off to replace it with the sensation that his potion was burning him alive, dread pulling his stomach down like an anvil.
"I don't believe it started that way. Perhaps if I prove myself with this potion it will be. You're definitely a factor in something, too. They wouldn't really have been able to do much without us."

"What the fuck are we doing?"

Draco tightened his grip.
"I know this might not mean much to you…I know you've been having a difficult time dealing with your friends. I just want you to know that I – that I appreciate it. And I can't promise you I can keep you safe tonight, but I am going to try."

Hermione tightened her grip.
"Let's go."

Walking into the flames together, he threw the powder down: "Greystone Manor."