The Great Hall was a battlefield, replete with shrieks and cackling and narrowly-missed projectiles.

Explosions everywhere.

Breakfast at Hogwarts had never been so exciting without a Dark Lord plotting.

As it was, 'Dark Lords' might be more proper in this case, Hermione thought, moving out the way of a bowl of eggs that just erupted.

It was April Fool's Day, and the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes must have been giving away their stock in preparation for their all-too-apt birthday. She hadn't a bite to eat, between fear of a face full of food and becoming a canary.

Most of the professors were absent, save for a poofy purple bearded Headmaster Dumbledore, and a very stern faced Professor McGonagall. Professor Sprout had made her way out with some excuse about potting Wiggentrees, and Flitwick had run out as fast as his little legs could carry him the minute the teacups started biting.

Harry fearfully tried to take a sip of pumpkin juice, and spent the last three minutes trying to transfigure his clothing into something that wasn't a cutty-sark. His face was bright-red, and currently adorned in silver and green ruffles.

Oh, Harry.

"Desino Figura!" She flicked her wand his way, and his robes reappeared.

"Thanks." He took a furtive look around, and sunk under the tables to join Ron.

Hermione leaned over to peer at them.

Ron was nearly finished with his breakfast, having smartly ducked out of the line of fire immediately.

She debated on how risky it was to eat. "I'm going to go to the library."

"Good idea! Pince'll skin anyone who sets off a firecracker there."

Hermione laughed and carefully moved her legs so she didn't kick either of them. "See you up there later?"

Harry nodded quickly, mouth full of bacon.

She stood up, scanning the Great Hall quickly before attempting to make her escape. She was nearly at the doors when a first year fainted at her feet, blood pouring from his nose. With a great big sigh, she stopped to search for someone with the purple half.

History of Magic was a disaster. A belching, babbling, bedlam of a class.

Professor Binns completely ignored anything didn't spill out into his presentation area, seemingly immune to the various cracks and loud pops renting the air.

She didn't even have Harry or Ron around for company. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff lost at least fifty points each as she hissed at them for their puerile pranks. By the end of class she was carrying at least an extra stone of confiscated items. And her stomach was growling ferociously.

After class, she fully intended to flush, Vanish, or chuck every item. At least Transfiguration would be calm and orderly, nobody would dare to plant a MisSpell-Checking quill or squawking duck wand.

Alas, some things were not meant to be.

"Hermione!" Ginny tried to make her way through the glum crowd pouring out the classroom.

At first Hermione hesitated, then felt silly. Ginny wasn't the type to fling a prank at her just outside a classroom. This morning was clearly taking its toll on her.

The redhead finally elbowed her way close, panting. "Hermione, you didn't buy anything from my brothers, did you?"

"No!" This day could hardly use the extra chaos.

"Good." She looked relieved. "The sale items, the ones for their Birthday today, are all jinxed. Most of them are set to go off before midnight, and others are doing the opposite of what they're supposed to. The Snackboxes are rigged, and the Daydream Charms...well, I won't even go into what happened during Care of Magical Creatures."

Hermione groaned. Of course the twins would do something like this. The entirety of the Gryffindor tower would probably explode with the force of the leftover items, assuming they weren't all used up by dinner.

"Just be careful!" Ginny ran off, undoubtedly to find other unsuspecting friends to warn. At least someone was trying to minimize the damage done today. It seemed like every other student had at least one item stashed in their pockets.

Hermione froze. She had at least half a dozen Wheezes' bought products in her robe.

The closest bathroom was on the fourth level, but she feared heading into any loo not her own.

Myrtle's bathroom! Further, but less likely to be rigged.

She tightened her grip on her bag and sprinted down the hall, only receiving commiserating glances for her unusual haste.

Despite castle delays, she reached the doors with minimal fuss. All was silent while she stepped in carefully, as nervously as a rabbit in a foxhole. Once situated safely in front of the sink, she began to empty her pockets.

Numerous Whiz-bangs, trick wands, sweets and chocolates of all sizes, plain bottles, wriggling quills, and one large heart-shaped bottle piled up in front of her. The Hufflepuff in possession of the pink potion had blushed hotly when he gave it up. Well! She would be mortified too if she bought a thing.

She puzzled over the firecrackers, wondering if they multiplied when Vanished before they were lit.

A high pitched shriek and bang startled her.

She turned quickly toward the door as a frantic figure burst in and immediately tried to spell the door shut.

However, his wand turned into a singing flower, and he cursed loudly before throwing it down and tearing at his pockets.

"Colloportus!" Hermione spoke the incantation so he'd realize he could stop undressing.

Draco Malfoy whirled around, robes askew and hair...well, his hair was just perfect, as always.

"You know this is a girl's bathroom," she informed him snottily, as there were at least two classroom doors a breath away from here.

"Then why are you in it?" He snorted.

Hermione shook her head, refusing to lower herself to his level.

He smirked at her suddenly, silver eyes glittering unpleasantly. He went from a panicky mess to coolly malicious on the turn of a sickle, didn't he? His cool gaze traveled her over with his usual disdain. "What's that, Granger? A love potion? Are you that desperate, or did you find a way to get that O in Defense Against the Dark Arts finally?"

"You're disgusting," she snapped, pocketing the offending potion. "I don't need to kiss arse to get a good grade like you do, Malfoy. Why don't you buy them all brooms, it worked for Quidditch."

He scowled.

Hermione reminded herself she was here for a reason, and turned back to the matter of fireworks. She didn't want to risk getting them wet either, so she sent a Drying and Sticking charm at the faucet.

"That's a lot of forbidden paraphernalia you have there, Granger." The sneaky snake had snuck up closer to her. "I can take it off your hands."

"I'd rather light it off in the middle of the Great Hall while gloating than give it to you." She cast a suspicious look over her shoulder. "Back off, Malfoy. I'll hex your fingers together and your mouth shut if you come any closer."

Draco licked his lips, glance flicking toward the pile before he moved.

He had Seeker reflexes, but she was packing six years' worth of life-endangering misadventures under her figurative belt, and they collided.

"No! Malfoy!" she shrieked, trying to keep on her feet. But no, her luck crumpled like her knees, and they both fell.

He landed on her so hard her breath whooshed out, a delicate little rupture lost as he cursed more. He scrambled to his feet first, grabbing an armful of Whiz-bangs.

She hoped it blew up in his stupid, snotty face! She sat up, aching and...wet. Why was she wet? On her hip?

"Well, I'll just be off now. Can't say this was fun, but very, very beneficial-"

"What have you done?" she whispered, stricken. Her fingers were damp where she brushed the side of her robe, and she stared at it, lost.

"Merlin, Granger, are you bleeding?" His voice sounded very far off.

Who would she fall for? That pimply, blushing Hufflepuff? Maybe he used parts of someone else. Like McGonagall...or Snape. She felt sickened.

"Granger? Snap out of it!"

She looked up at him. Warmth blossomed in her chest as she really saw him. That silky pale hair, and his beautiful eyes, full of unease.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he moved closer. "Granger, what's going on?"

"You broke the bottle in my pocket," she said sweetly. She meant to sound angry.

"The what?" He looked at her robes again, with the wet spot on the black fabric, then down at his own robes. The fireworks all dropped at his feet. He touched the smears of fluid there, dazed. "I...am very upset."

"Me too." Hermione dragged her gaze from his face, but his neck and shoulders were no better. Her heart was racing, her palms very warm. This was terrible. She slowly got to her feet, wincing as her left hip protested loudly.

"Did I hurt you?" Draco stepped closer, looking very concerned.

That was so sweet of him. He wasn't such a bad-no! He was a bad person! A very, very bad person! "A little."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione."

Her head snapped up, lips parting in shock. "You called me Hermione."

"I can't stop myself." He tried to grimace, but it came off as a hopelessly besotted smile.

This was so bad.

"Draco," it tasted as wonderful on her tongue as his face to her eyes, "we're going to both leave the bathroom. We're going to avoid each other until it wears off." It was killing her to say it. Why would she not want to be next to him?

"I really don't want to do that." Draco vowed, his fists clenched at his sides.

Hermione nodded in agreement, slowly backing off. She didn't dare try to pick up the scattered objects. They were too close to him, and she was feeling light-headed and very uncertain of herself.

Draco watched her go, with an expression nothing like derision or dislike. Like he was a heartbeat away from pursuing her and...and…

She unlocked the door and bolted.

Of course there would be a Gryffindor/Slytherin class that day.

The fates hated Hermione Granger, she was sure of this.

She had spent the rest of her free period hiding in the dustiest, most secluded section of the library she could find, next to the section on Household and Cooking Charms. At one point she heard Harry and Ron looking for her, but she cowardly huddled in her corner until they left.

She arrived to Transfiguration at least ten minutes early, and sat at the front of the class, all the way to the left.

Professor McGonagall was quite tense when the door opened. She looked up with a scowl, which softened upon sight of one of the few students who wouldn't be sneaking in a rash of ribald rats.

Hermione kept her head down the entire time the class filled. Ron took a seat on her right - how she had jumped when he sat - and Harry took the third spot.

"Where were you?" Ron whispered. "We looked all over the library."

"Apparently not everywhere. Shh!" she hissed, turning her head toward Professor McGonagall and making it clear she was in paying attention mode now.

Despite Scourgifying her robes numerous times, since she dare not head up to the dorms, she could still smell the sweet mint. It made her mouth water, and she swore her lips were tingling.

Halfway through the lecture about Human Transfiguration, she felt a crinkly nudge at her left elbow. She lifted her arm a little, to find a little paper bird there. Careful to keep it in the crook of her elbow, she unfolded it.

Granger, stop licking your lips. It's driving me mad.

Hermione crumpled the note, her face on fire. After a moment she hastily stuffed the note in her was watching her then, getting-feeling-being driven mad, then? She pushed her lips tightly together, and set to lightly fanning her flushed cheeks with a feather.

Absently, she trailed the tip down her jaw and along her neck.

A strangled noise behind her caught her, and McGonagall's, attention swiftly.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you quite all right?" the woman asked sharply, immediately suspicious.

"Yes, professor," he choked.

Hermione risked a peek over her shoulder. He was looking quite flustered, and shot her a narrow glance.

Well! It's not as if she did it on purpose. Did she?

Probably, she conceded.

But why not? Malfoy had haunted and taunted nearly every step Harry ever made. He was always there, laughing at him, making up crude buttons, dressing in Dementor outfits, mocking Harry's whole life. Why shouldn't she take advantage? If she derived a certain amount of satisfaction from it, that was just a boon.

She pulled up her sleeves slowly, picking up the quill again and cleaning it before tracing the scratchy nib along her lips. Stalling, really, as her repertoire did not include teasing boys with feminine wiles. She entertained the thought of playing with her hair like the other girls did, then immediately banished it. Couldn't exactly take off her robes in the middle of class either, even if she was wearing a tight shirt, which she wasn't.

But…

Her hand crept down slowly, holding her breath as she reached the bottom of the robe. She casually lifted the hem to her knee, and further, letting it settle mid-thigh.

It was exciting, thinking about him staring at her. Tilting her knee casually to the side, so the bare skin was visible to him so far back.

Clatter!

Draco was leaning over to pick up a book, when she peeked, his gaze riveted on her knee and calf.

She turned back around, swallowing thickly. If this was affecting him anywhere near as much as her, he must be burning up.

"Hermione, you're all red. Okay there?" Ron said out the corner of his mouth, watching her strangely.

"Fine," she muttered, looking back down.

A growl sounded quietly from the back. Didn't like that?

Hermione raised her head and smiled at Ron. "Thanks for asking." She patted his arm quickly.

Another rumble sounded, causing quite a few people, Ron included, to crane to see where it was coming from.

"It's Malfoy." He rolled his eyes. "Must've gotten a hair out of place."

Hermione almost snapped at him. How dare he insinuate Malfoy was shallow? Draco was a deep, sensitive, intelligent-bugger all! She blew out a deep breath, focusing on her book again. What in the world were they going over in class, anyway?

Hermione had her answer soon enough. Pictures taken from a magazine were distributed to each student, with the task of Transfiguring their face to resemble the photo as much as possible. McGonagall stated she didn't expect perfection, much to the shock of most, as a perfect likeness was next to impossible. A good likeness under scrutiny, however, was acceptable.

Hermione frowned at her picture. She got Pippa Southey, daughter of Harvey Southey, who penned many sonnets, poetry, and magical folklore. Hermione had two of his books in her trunk right now, The Myth of the Wolf-Man, and Raising the Dead. It wasn't about Inferi, but rather ghosts, poltergeists, and other lost souls depicted in legends.

Pippa was short, wide, and had messy brown hair. It wasn't her looks, it was her similarity to Hermione that was irritating. She could conjure up a pair of thick glasses like Pippa's, but that wouldn't earn her a good grade for the day.

She chewed on her bottom lip, unaware of something creeping between her chair and the wall.

Perhaps she she rounded her cheeks and darkened her hair a bit? Yes, Pippa, who kept trying to scoot out of the picture, definitely had darker and straighter hair.

A hand snaked out from behind her and grabbed her wrist, and she nearly jumped out of her chair.

Hermione spotted a hint of blond hair by her hip, he was all but hidden behind her chair.

"Malfoy," she whispered, horrified. His fingers were hot against her skin, sending warmth up her arm and, err, just up her arm.

"You bloody tease." His delectable mouth curled, not a sneer, but not a smile either. "How would you like it if I-"

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione's head snapped back to the front. Had they been seen?

Professor McGonagall stepped in front of her desk, scanning her student's features. "The picture was a random selection, Miss Granger, otherwise I might have given you someone more dissimilar to yourself. Have you made any progress yet?"

Hermione wished she had. "I'm still, ah, examining the best way to go about it."

Draco had already released her wrist, but instead settled his hand on her calf, hidden by the robe.

McGonagall nodded. "I look forward to seeing your progress." She moved on to Ron, who had gotten a picture of Harry. Neither him nor their 'celebrity' friend were very amused, but they agreed at least Malfoy wasn't making cracks about Ron trying to become Potter.

No, Draco was busy breathing right next to her, and it was most distracting.

Speaking of progress, his hand had moved to cup the inside of her knee, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin.

All thoughts of spells and revenge flew out of her head, and she stretched her foot out a little so he could continue to stroke there. For such a random spot, it felt dreamy. Her insides melted, and she slumped in the chair as he lazily made circles.

"Mr. Malfoy? Where is Mr. Malfoy?"

She straightened up so fast she banged her other knee on the desk. "Ouch!"

There was another clang and a muffled curse from behind her.

"Right here!" Draco popped up in his chair. "I dropped my quill. And my book." He managed to sound innocent, which was always a dead giveaway he was guilty.

"Mm." McGonagall didn't sound very pleased. "I see."

Just then Crabbe turned his hair into worms, and she was distracted.

Draco winked at Hermione, and she turned around quickly in her chair.

"What do you think?" Ron was trying to get her attention, sporting wild black hair, a bulbous nose, and a pulsing purple scar on his forehead.

"Uh, fantastic." She tried to catch a glimpse of Draco again.

He was watching her as well, completely ignoring the assignment.

She straightened again, slowly. "Ron, how long has the twin's April Fools sale been going on?"

"Before school started, I think. We stopped by the shop, remember?"

She paled. The potion might have been sitting there for over three months? It might not wear off all day! What was she going to do?

A few choice ideas sprang to mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight. No, those were most certainly not viable solutions!

Class finally ended, and Hermione was torn between stalling and rushing out the class. It seemed Draco had the same idea, and they kept looking at each other, over and over. She tried making a shooing motion, and he made one back. His huge, lumbering friends were slow as molasses in packing up.

So were hers.

She stepped in place after Harry, very aware of Draco's place in line just a few people ahead. He kept turning to look at her. She didn't look away either.

"What's that ferret keep looking at?"

She had to bite her tongue.

Outside of classrooms seemed to be the worst place for Hermione to be today. Or the best.

Draco stepped up behind her as she left the doorway, and she stopped.

"We should talk." He was so close she could feel the warm line of his body.

"We really shouldn't." It took every ounce of willpower to not lean back. Being alone with him would undo her.

"I want to." He touched her elbow, lightly.

"Me too."

He stepped back, moving around her to join his friends. "Same bathroom as before." Then he was gone.

What was she going to do? Ignoring her earlier fears, she rushed up to the Gryffindor common room. Suspicious stares darted her way as she entered, until they recognized her. She wasn't offended, even though she was perfectly capable of breaking rules. Just not for such silly things. But she could do it.

Ginny was sitting by herself in the sofa closest to the fireplace, reading with wand in lap.

Hermione sat on the armrest, leaning close.

"I've got a problem."

Ginny scanned her over. "Prank?" she guessed, shrewdly.

"Yes. No. Are you familiar with the love potions the twins sell?"

"A little, but I haven't looked since they first opened." She tilted her head. "Why?"

This was going to be really difficult. "I was hit with one."

Ginny's mouth opened. "Oooh, and it got in your mouth?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "Just on my skin."

"Hmm." Ginny looked upward. "Must be a new one. Those are usually pretty generalized, aren't they? Who'd you end up seeing first?"

Hermione shook her head again, stamping down a blush. She just couldn't just blurt out Draco. Malfoy. Even though she couldn't think of anyone better than-worse! Worse than him!

"C'mon, who?" Ginny poked her side. "Can't tell me? Why not? Was it Harry?"

She made a face. Maybe that wouldn't be as terrible - wonderful? - as Draco, but it was pretty high up there.

"Okay, okay." Ginny laughed. "Ron? Seamus? Lavender?"

She scowled at the grinning redhead. It wasn't funny!

"Sorry. But it could literally be anyone, except myself and the people I named. Where's the bottle, anyway?"

Now she could answer that without feeling as if her face would overheat and light on fire. "I threw it in the library bin before cleaning my robe. The only part of the label I read was the back. It said 'Go forth and be happy.' "

"Where did you even get it?"

She sighed. "I confiscated it from Oliver Rivers in History. He had already tried to send a Puking Pastille in Ernie's mouth, so I made him empty his pockets."

Ginny nodded slowly. "We could try and find him."

It took no small amount of skill and avoidance to even make it up here. Leaving sounded like a very bad idea.

Ginny patted her arm. "I'll go look for him. You just stay here and wait."

That was far easier said than done.

Hermione watched her go with trepidation. Maybe if she tied herself to the chair and threw away the wand?

Draco would be waiting for her soon. Draco, with his elegant hands and sexy smirk. If she went, perhaps he would step in close and whisper lovely things in her ear. Then she'd grab his shoulders and...no!

She was already halfway to the round entrance before coming to her senses.

Draco's day was not going well. He was woken up abruptly, first thing in the morning, by Theodore Nott screaming bloody murder. Someone, no names, turned the curtains into snakes. Everyone had a good laugh.

Except for Theo.

The Slytherin common rooms were rife with suspicion and sneers when Draco left his room to go to breakfast. A group of first years were huddled together fearfully, and seventh years lounged on the sofas, daring anyone to fling one Atraventum their way.

There were already a half a dozen third and fourth years desperately trying to remove the moving ink from their skin. Malcolm Baddock had a crimson and gold lion roaming his skin, and it kept evading his attempts at removal.

Breakfast was a good spot of fun. None of the older Slytherins frequented that joke shop by those freckled blood traitors, so their pranks had to be creative, innovative, and clever. Anyone could buy a firework that spelled naughty words.

Draco spent most of his time blowing up foods at other tables, greatly enjoying the accusations that flew after. Well, not every prank could be brilliant.

While hanging about outside the hall, Blaise showed off his latest creation. He had managed to create a perpetual storm cloud that hung about the victim for a few hours, intermittently raining and sending down bolts on them.

Everyone had laughed.

Well, the Slytherins did.

Charms had only lasted a half hour, full of trick wands and jinxes preventing anyone from managing to turn vinegar into wine. After the first goblet spewed its smelly contents everywhere, Flitwick shooed them out and locked the door behind them.

Draco then spent his time walking the halls spelling Jinx Me and Hex Me on younger years' backs. Crabbe and Goyle snickered beside him. Life was good.

That's when his day took a turn for the worse.

"I've created sentience!" Blaise Zabini howled as he ran down the halls.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

A horde of Ravenclaws turned round the corner.

First years to fourth years with arms linked, they were dragging the most humongous cloud he'd ever seen indoors behind them. It was as angry as their faces, purple and dark grey and flashing depths.

"Smite him!" A Ravenclaw girl shrieked, pointing at the fleeing Slytherin's back. A terrifying amount of lightning flew from the clouds, hitting the ground where Blaise just was. It left a smoking black crater.

Served the git right, pranking a bunch of book-lovers and getting caught.

The smiter turned her wild eyes on them. "Smite ALL the Slytherins!"

Bollocks. Draco waited just a split second before grabbing his dignity and running for his life. He easily outpaced his friends, whose masses were impressive but slow, and he kept going despite bellows and brays from behind.

The group seemed to split and pursue, because a smaller group followed him around and around. He sent jinxes over his shoulder, Body Binds, ropes, but they were nigh unstoppable. One bolt came so close he could hear his hair sizzling, and he shrieked and sent a copy of himself running while he ducked into the third floor girl's bathroom.

And from there, his day got even worse.

So here he was now, hours later, cooling his heels back in the same bathroom - after pocketing the abandoned Whiz-bangs - waiting on the aforementioned witch. That frustrating witch. The know-it-all witch.

She was utterly and madly gorgeous though. Not in looks alone, for which he was selfishly glad, because then only he could really see it. It was in the way she read, focused and lost in the pages. The way her face lit up, and the way she sneered at him, just him, when he managed to prod her into a fury.

Draco knew he was hopelessly and completely under the effect of a potion. He'd never had these thoughts before. Sure, he spent some time observing her, but that was to aid his nefarious and clever plots.

Where was she? Why was she doing this to him? If he wasn't so cautious, he'd go out and find her right now, risking all manner of harm or messy hair. But what if she arrived while he was out? He couldn't read or distract himself. Every ounce of his fiber was focused on that door. Foot-shuffling, finger-thrumming, lip-licking tension. He leaned against a sink, the sink that never worked, and pictured her.

She had looked so good in Transfiguration, while he stroked just under her knee. She had been practically slumped on her desk, eyes glassy and content.

Creak!

The latch was moving. His breath caught as it stopped, then turned further.

If it was anyone but Granger, he was going to hunt them down and cast a Tickling Charm until they soiled themselves.

Crisis averted; it was Granger.

She nervously peeked in, big brown eyes finally finding him. "Hi," she squeaked.

He began to smile slowly, crooking two fingers at her. "Come here."

The door slid open a little more, and she slid in and shut the door behind her.

"Colloportus." He sent a quick locking charm at the door.

She nearly jumped, so nervous. Her hands were behind her back, probably pressed to the wood. She was even biting her bottom lip, staring at him with such a skittish, yearning look.

"Come here." He beckoned to her again.

She took a step forward, one after another until the front of her robe nearly brushed his knees. "It's a love potion," she whispered.

"I know." He kept his tone quiet as not to startle her, she still was shifting her weight from one side to another. He took in her soft features. It was easy to miss them, what with the poofy locks that she allowed to take a life of its own. He gave a throaty chuckle. "We could shove a bezoar down our throats. I'll do you if you do me."

She licked her lips, gaze moving to his mouth.

That was wicked. She was far too intelligent to pretend innocence.

"Granger…"

"You don't even like me." She looked horribly saddened by this.

"No!" He grabbed her wrist fiercely, but cradled it as he lifted her hand to his lips. "You're beautiful. Don't give me that look. It's how I see you." He pressed his lips to her half-curled palm. "You're so bloody smart. I want to memorize you the way you do your books. I want to kiss away the swotty. I want you to come undone from a look alone."

Her eyes were taking on that sheen again, lips parting as she breathed faster.

Draco kissed each of her fingers slowly. "You're bang up to the elephant. So prissy, so far above us lowly wizards."

She stiffened a little, puzzlement flashing along her lovely face.

"Don't get me wrong," he began nuzzling her fingers anew, "I adore that. You're not like the rest. Embrace it. Raise your hand all the time. Write an extra three feet every essay. Be yourself."

Hermione sighed deeply, watching where his lips met her skin. "You're incorrigible."

"Thank you."

She swayed closer, helpless as him. "I want to slap the mouth of anyone who speaks badly of you."

"Better them than me." He smirked, and resumed the little nibbles.

Her body was just between his knees, her tongue wetting her lips again. Maddening. "You give them a lot of reason to. You should stop that."

"Will you keep me occupied?" He whispered, letting her hand tilt to the side.

"Mm hmm." Her eyes were focused on his as she leaned closer, and-

The door slammed open with the force of a troll.

He barely moved, and neither did she.

"Hermione!" A very familiar female voice commanded.

And his witch went backwards, and he tried to follow, still holding her hand. His foot twisted awkwardly behind him, and he let go as he fell flat on his stomach. He caught a glimpse of She-Weasley, a parchment in one hand and wand in the other.

Then they were gone.

He cursed. A lot.

After Ginny sent a Tripping hex Draco's way, Hermione tried to go back to see if he was all right.

"Nope!" Ginny muttered, dragging her out of there so fast Hermione kept stumbling.

If she had been able to find her wand, the redhead might've been sporting worse than those Hex Me signs that were everywhere.

Ginny didn't stop until they were in a different unused classroom - which were everywhere, really - and faced her, breathing hard. "I couldn't find you anywhere. Thank goodness Harry was hiding in the library!"

Hermione decided not to hex her, now that she wasn't a tantalizing scant breath from Draco's wonderful mouth. "I...I couldn't help it."

"I know." Ginny shook her head, pulling a Reparo'd heart-shaped bottle from her pocket. "By the time I found Oliver, he was so paranoid he kept running away and screaming something about were-spiders. Anyway, I found the bottle."

"I don't think were-spiders really exi-"

"Focus!" Ginny snapped her fingers up close. "Read it."

Hermione reluctantly took the bottle.

Enchanting Ecstasy

An Eye-Opening Affair

In Every Bottle!

She turned it over.

Spill on your soon-to-be lover!

On your friends! On your enemies!

No swallowing needed, just stay

in their line of sight!

Or humiliating substitute.

Go forth and be happy!

"It doesn't say how long it lasts." Hermione felt disappointed. Didn't she? Of course she did. The sooner it was over, the better. Sweet Merlin she almost kissed him. On the mouth. With every bit of desire and longing inside of her…

She sighed.

Ginny grimaced, sympathetically. "I think we should stay in here until it passes. You don't want to end up snogging Malfoy."

Hermione tried not to grit her teeth.

"Imagine how you'll feel later. You might vomit."

She whirled around, snarling. "He-I-I would not vomit! He's not terrible. He's gentle, and he told I'm smart, and he actually likes that."

Ginny backed up, holding up her hands. "I'm sorry," she said meekly.

Her first impulse was to go and see if Draco was still there, half-leaning back with smoldering eyes while he huskily whispered to her. Then her shoulders slumped. "I need to stay right here, Ginny. I'm sorry I snapped at you. Promise you won't let me leave. No matter what I say."

Ginny nodded dubiously, eyeing the wand in Hermione's hand.

Hermione looked down too, puzzled. When had that gotten there? She held it out to her. "Take it."

Ginny took it cautiously, slipping it in her pocket.

For the next hour, Hermione tried to read Ginny's fifth year books to make it go faster. She even tried one of her novels, with a buff, black haired wizard riding a broom on the cover. He kept winking at her every time he zoomed close. It made her miss Malfoy. Was he looking for her? Did he flee in disgust at what he almost did? Did he think she fled in disgust?

Maybe in a few hours it wouldn't matter. But this was now, and she couldn't imagine a world where she wasn't allowed to reach out to hold his hand whenever she wanted. How would it feel for him to look at her and hate her, calling her a…

Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she stifled a sob.

This whole day was miserable. It was like one of those trick wands, it looked fine until you picked it up for a wave, then everything went fowl-shaped.

"Hermione?" Ginny called softly.

She hastily wiped her cheeks, sniffing quietly before she managed to smile at the other witch.

Ginny wasn't looking at her, but rather the bottle in her hands. "Look at this."

Hermione leaned over, tilting her head at the moving numbers.

1028...

It counted down as they watched.

1027...

1026...

1025...

"What do you suppose it means?" Ginny puzzled over the thing. "Don't think it's going to blow up, do you? It's nowhere near midnight."

"No…" Hermione furrowed her brow, thinking hard. "No, countdowns are normally to the end, and the potion wears off at the end." Her head lifted, facing this head-on. "The potion is about to wear off."

"Oh, that's good." Ginny smiled back.

The potion was about to wear off.

The potion was about to wear off.

What was she doing, sitting here? She barely had fifteen minutes to find him. She didn't get a chance to tell him what she thought about him. All the good thoughts she couldn't remember not having, all the little things she admired that got bogged down in her dislike for his attitude. And his propensity to refer to her hair as a rampaging beast.

"I've got to go!" She jumped up and tried to yank open the door. It wouldn't budge. She turned, deliberately, smiling. "Ginny."

"No. You said no." Ginny half-way stood, already drawing back.

"Give me my wand." She was calm. Smooth as a pond on a summer's day. Peaceful as a lone leaf drifting to the ground. "Give it to me, and this will go much easier."

Ginny shrunk away from her, backing up with her own wand in hand. "I promised. Don't do this."

"I won't be mad at you later." Hermione soothed, making a shushing sound. "You're not going to hex me. Just-give-it!" She dove at the girl, grabbing for her wand.

Ginny didn't hex her, though her wand almost went up Hermione's nose as they scuffled about.

"HA!" Hermione felt her wand and snatched it, running for the door. She almost flung it at the door in her haste. "Alohomora!"

And she was free! Free!

"Wait, Hermione! WAIT!"

Hermione avoided two swamps, one tricky staircase, and a whole lot of wet floor and scorch marks as she made her way down. It was almost dinner time, he had to be there. He *had* to be there. Who knew how many minutes she had to spare?

As she skidded to the large double doors, there he was.

Through the few students filing in, their eyes met.

He stopped.

His friends went ahead without him, and the last few stragglers entered the hall. She cast a nonverbal spell at the door, and they swung shut.

Hermione slowed as she reached him, simply reaching out one hand.

He did the same, their fingers entwined firmly. "You're here."

"I'm here." She whispered, leaning close. "We're still…"

"I know." And he closed the distance between them.

Heat shivered from her mouth all the way to her toes. She moved closer, parting her lips to deepen the kiss. His moved against hers, tongue playfully entreating hers before he tasted every inch of her mouth. His other hand snuck to her waist, pulling her dizzily close.

She couldn't tell where her heartbeat began, and his ended.

Clack.

She almost, but not quite, heard the doors being reopened. But she heard over a hundred students drawing in a collective gasp all the same time.

He kept kissing her, trailing his hand from her jawline to her neck.

"Draco," she whispered, before kissing him again. "The potion's about to wear off."

He made a cross noise, taking her bottom lip and sucking. "Always wanted to do that."

"We didn't lock the door." She sucked in his bottom lip softly in return, cradling the back of his neck.

A frantic set of footsteps came from the other way, and Hermione lazily drew her wand to her side.

"Look!" a voice hissed.

Hermione cracked open one eye, seeing Ginny holding out something. Hermione reluctantly broke the kiss to take the empty bottle from her. And froze.

It kept flashing.

0000!

Her eyes met with Draco's once he finished reading.

He licked his lips. "This is…"

"Unfortunate." She looked at the bottle, and at him.

His eyebrows drew together, mouth twisting...then he muttered "Sod it" and kissed her again.

Warmth rose in her chest, and she pressed , tongue stroking just inside his mouth, it was her turn to taste.

He nuzzled her mouth after long moments, ""This could be the best Hogwart's prank ever, Granger."

She made a curious sound against him, trying to catch his tongue to suck on. "Oh?"

"In my pocket."

Hermione peeked open one eye.

"The firecrackers."

Ahh. She slid one hand down his side as the kiss resumed, and used her wand tip to send the Whiz-bangs flying from his robe. A mass of tiny bluebell flames flew after them, and there was detonation.

She bowed as fantastic oranges and reds sparks burst in the air, pink Catherine Wheels shrieking all about the hall, and inky black dragons spitting fire at cheering students.

Everyone was laughing.

She wasn't, though.

Hermione felt fingers curling around hers. She couldn't bear to turn around. "If it's just a prank, we can't do this again."

He tugged her closer and claimed her mouth once again."Never mind then. I'm good right now."

"Me too." She wound both arms around his neck, to stop all this chatter...and for a shield from thirty or so careening, screaming rockets.

Ginny walked around the snogging couple, taking in all the chaos, cheers and two very gobsmacked stares. The Professors were just eating their dinner at this point, except Flitwick, who had taken to directing the pinwheels to ricochet off the torches to create a shower of red sparks on the kissing couple.

Ron's spoon was dripping soup, suspended right in front of his gaping mouth.

"Is this...a...prank?" He managed, speaking to her but never tearing his gaze away from them.

Ginny smiled, checking the bottle again. It had been flashing a new message ever since reaching zero.

April Fools!

Cheering Charm!

An Eye-Opening Affair

In Every Bottle!