The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming ownership.

Hermione moved down the stairs with purpose, a perplexed Draco stumbling after her. He struggled to keep pace as she moved into the castle dungeons. 'Where are we going?' He pleaded, following her blindly. She didn't reply but looked particularly pleased. The pair came to a halt in a non-descript section of corridor, decorated by a single painting of a fruit bowl.

'Everyone started acting weird after breakfast the other day.' She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to pick up her train of thought. Draco shrugged,

'OK.'

'Draco,' she rolled her eyes. 'What happened at breakfast?'

'Nothing. All the flowers stopped...' there was a flash of realisation behind his eyes, and Hermione smiled. 'It was something in the flowers.' Her smile faded.

'The flowers hit everyone, yet only Gryffindors seem to be obsessed with you. So what did the Gryffindors do that everyone else didn't?' He looked back at her, unsure. 'They ate breakfast from the Gryffindor table.'

'But Professor McGonagall would eat with the other teachers...' Hermione nodded,

'Except she came down to talk to one of the first years, and took some toast from our table.' She moved her hand forwards to tickle the pear, causing the entrance to the school kitchens to appear. The kitchens were a bustle of noisy elves, clattering silverware and boiling pans. Draco trailed through the doorway after her and nearly tripped over a house elf with a large silver tureen. He balanced himself against Hermione whilst the elf apologised and backed away.

'How are we going to find anything in here?' He asked, watching the proceedings wide-eyed. Hermione smiled,

'Dobby?' She called. Within moments, a proud elf clad in a purple turtleneck appeared before them.

'Miss Hermione!' Dobby exclaimed. 'It is a pleasure to see you again.' Dobby's eyes fell on Draco, and the elf twitched uncomfortably, suppressing an urge to bow. Hermione called back his attention, removing the stigma of seeing his former master.

'Dobby, I need to ask about breakfast two days ago.' Dobby nodded,

'There was much food gone to waste. I could get you something, if you like. Cheese platter?' He offered happily.

'No, Dobby,' Hermione knelt down. 'Did anyone come into the kitchens, that morning? Anyone unexpected?' Dobby glanced up at Draco, who looked distinctly uneasy, then back to Hermione.

'Well yes, Miss Hermione.'

'Who was it?'

'Why, it was Master Draco,' the elf's eyes darted back to Draco, then to the floor in obeisance.

'What did Draco do, Dobby?'

'He was most interested in the butter dishes of a table, Miss Hermione, although I'm not quite sure why.'

'Was this the Gryffindor table?' She asked. Dobby nodded.

'Why would you let him... I mean, me,' he corrected, 'do that?' Dobby seemed to frown.

'You were always the nicest to me in your family, Master Draco, and I knew you were doing no harm.'

'Harm enough,' Draco scoffed under his breath. Dobby looked confused between the pair.

'Thank you, Dobby.' Hermione offered, straightening. When Draco wasn't forthcoming with his thanks, she elbowed him in the side. He grunted a thank you and they both exited the kitchens. As the wall closed up behind them, she turned to Draco.

'If that wasn't you, someone pretending to be you is walking around this castle. I'd bet they put a love potion in the butter, and all those affected had buttered toast that morning.' Draco frowned,

'Why, though?'