A/N: This is Volume I of the Amortentia Series. Each volume is a separate multi-chapter story with a new pairing and can be read in any order.

Warning: Mature Content- Smut

A huge thank you to CJRed who Alpha read this story for me. Who also warned me that she was planning on chaining me to the computer until its complete.

I know I should be working on Lies of Good and Evil, but this idea hit me pretty hard and once I started writing it, it was all I could think about.

I have changed the summary to more accurately reflect the entire story. Thanks to my brilliant Alpha, CJRed, who gave me the idea. 6/19/19

Divine Artifice

Sixth year isn't going the way Draco imagined it would. His mission was complex, and he felt the weight of an executioner's ax hovering. But destiny had other plans for him when a mislabeled bottle of Amortentia changed everything. His story is one about personal redemption, his heart, and reclaiming his family's honor.

Hermione had to do rounds alone, again. Being a prefect was hard but rewarding work. Usually. But a chance encounter with Draco Malfoy and an unidentified potion that she just knew should be confiscated, made her look at him in a new unexpected light. Though an antidote was quickly given, the accident drew her into the complex world of Draco Malfoy, even though the war threatened to separate them.

One small encounter that changed the course of the entire war and the lives of two enemies.

Mostly canon through book 6, some canonical moments from book 7

Chapter One

Draco leaned back against a crumbling tower of artifacts and held his head in despair. There was no way he was going to be able to fix the cabinet, no way he was going to save his family, no way he was going to save himself. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes unchecked and he nearly choked on the sob that clawed its way up from the depths of his churning fear-filled belly.

He was a dead man.

Looking back on his life he regretted. He regretted not doing everything he wanted. Instead, he had followed his father's dogma as if it were holy. As if it would bring him somewhere much greater than where he was now.

Admittedly, his father was feared, respected even, and when he was young, the Malfoys stood at the top, basking in prestige and influence. Draco had no idea the cost of such a thing and had lived in a safe world where that kind of power was always theirs. But now he knew. That, that type of fear and power was born of the terror the Malfoys wielded in the first war. Carved in the hearts of those who dared rise against their Master. As for him, the line was expected to continue its nefarious dealings. He was expected to continue the tradition by serving the Dark Lord.

For a long time, he wanted that recognition and power, craved it, and vowed he would make his father proud. But that was before the Dark Lord exacted their punishment for Lucius' failure in the Department of Mysteries. Rise together, die together. As a family.

Draco took a shaky breath, struggling not to sob like the first year he felt like. He was drowning, barely treading water. Gulping in great lungsful of water with each breath. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to kill Dumbledore of all people?

What if the cabinet couldn't be fixed? His mission wasn't the cabinet. His mission was to kill Dumbledore. Maybe, he should think of other ways and means to get the job done.

There was a necklace in Borgin and Burkes that would curse the wearer. Perhaps that would work. How to get it inside the school, was the hardest part. With a sinking feeling, he knew deep down he would have to perform an unforgivable to do it. If he Imperiused Rosmerta, the barmaid at the Three Broomsticks, he would have access to students and teachers alike.

Whatever he decided; he would have to do it alone. There was no help to turn to… the Dark Lord's warning still burned in whip marks crisscrossed on his back. Do not trust anyone. Do not seek help. Do not fail. Embedded marks layered over the once pristine skin that were still healing. They had scabbed over, cracked, and itched like hell. He could only imagine what the ruin of his back looked like. Too many of his fine white Oxfords had been tossed in the bin, irrevocably ruined by the secretions.

For one angry, crazy moment he wanted to let it all go. Let himself die and take his parents down with him. They did this to him. They didn't protect him. Their failures put him here in this situation. Why should he carry them on his back?

He scrubbed at his face pushing his terror to the back of his mind and tried to adopt the stoic emotionless mask in which he was trained to hide behind. Never would he let anyone hurt his mother. His loving terrified mother who also was living her worst nightmare.

Her husband's master took over her home, held her life hostage, had doomed her only son to death. Whatever loyalty she once felt for the movement, was gone. Draco Malfoy wasn't the only one to just want this whole nightmare to end.

Unwilling to admit the next thought out loud, he clenched his teeth. In fact, he struggled not to put the thought into coherent images or words at all. The one thought that would definitely get him killed was wanting Harry Potter to win.

Draco looked up and let the rest of his tears dry on his cheeks. Now that he was back under control, he prepared to call it a night. He would come tomorrow to continue fixing the vanishing cabinet. There was nothing more he could accomplish that night, not with his emotions all over the place.

Preparing to push off the cold stone he sat on, he put his hand to the floor. Tinkling echoed around the cavernous chamber as his fingers disturbed the vials that sat innocuously hidden.

Several rolled into the aisle. Most were empty crystal, yet others were filled with familiar pastes and potions. It was a single vial's contents swirled violently in rainbow iridescence alone that caught his eye. It was mesmerizing. Never had he seen anything like it before.

He picked up the opal-colored potion and turned the small tube until the yellowed label faced him.

Morgana's Magical Elixir- a magic-boosting miracle

Draco snorted. It sounded exactly like the ridiculous potions that made the rounds during exam time. Regardless, he slipped the potion into his pocket, intending on deconstructing it on the off chance it would be useful to him.

**HGHG**

Hermione turned another corner on the seventh floor, muttering angrily to herself. Merlin help anyone who was out after curfew. Her patrol partner, Ron, had flaked. Again. Why he was made a prefect, she would never understand. He never took it seriously. He never helped out. He didn't even know he could take points off misbehaving students!

Hermione drew in a deep calming breath through her nose. Perhaps that last was just as well. Ron was a good guy, but he had deep-rooted prejudices and she could just imagine him taking points left and right from Slytherin. She rolled her eyes. Not even Malfoy did that.

A shoe scuffle made her freeze and she lifted her lit wand higher. "Who's there?"

Robes rustling against the stone were her only answer. She narrowed her eyes, searching the areas near the walls for any indication of disillusionment.

"I know you are there! Come out!" she demanded. Nothing moved. No one answered. Her nostrils flared in agitation and while inhaling, caught a whiff of something. Something familiar. Why was it so familiar?

The scent was getting stronger, swirling around her, making her skin prickle. Though the scent itself was pleasant, it put her on edge. Her body tensed, and she struggled not to cast a stunner.

"Accio," she summoned something, anything, that would tell her who was in the halls. Her reaction had been confusing, concerning. And she feared she faced not a student, but someone whose allegiance would put her life in danger.

A small pearlescent potion flew at her from the left, followed by muttered curses as whoever tried to get past her made a grab for the potion. His disillusionment failed as he finally grabbed the vial out of the air. And Hermione stood still, surprised as Draco Malfoy appeared before her. His hand was extended, fisted around the vial near her chest. His body was larger than hers, imposing in its nearness. She could feel his panicked breath on her face. When did he get so much bigger than her?

"Malfoy?" she exclaimed in shocked surprise.

"Granger," he sneered.

"What are you doing out after curfew?"

"None of your damn business,"

"I am on patrol. It is definitely my business!" she asserted.

"Then take points. Fuck if I care," he said as he made to brush past her.

Hermione stepped into his path, refusing to let him go without first knowing why he was out.

"What is that?" she asked, gesturing to the potion still in his fist.

"Nothing you need to worry about," his angry grey eyes met her brown ones, holding her frozen with the depth of their fury.

She tried to pluck the vial from his hand.

"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded pulling his arm easily out of her reach, high above her head.

"Is it a banned substance? Is that why you won't let me see it? Should I call for Professor Dumbledore?" She demanded.

"No," Draco said in a near panic. "This is nothing like that,"

"Then show me!"

"No!"

"Malfoy!"

"Get your hands off me!"

"Not until you show me what you are hiding!"

"Get off!" Draco yelled as Hermione leaped to reach his hand that was clasped tightly around the potion bottle. She lost her balance and instead of jumping and grabbing his arm, she fell into him, causing both of them to crash to the floor. The back of Draco's head hit the flagstone and he laid there blinking, trying to clear the stars from his vision. Hermione was laying on top of him, looking at the potion that had shattered on impact. A potion that was now seeping into the small cut on the back of Draco Malfoy's head.

"Oh Merlin!" she whispered, face turning green. She reached out a single shaking hand to lightly probe the wound. "What was the potion?"

Draco shook his head weakly, groaning.

"Malfoy! What was in that potion?" she demanded frantically.

"Granger?" he asked dazed as his vision finally cleared.

"What kind of potion was it? You are covered in it!" she continued.

"I don't know," he murmured. He was focused on her face, the fact that she was laying on top of him, her gentle fingers probing the back of his head, her curves pressed against the planes of his body. The fact that her sweet thighs were straddling his.

"I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey," She wiped her potion coated fingers on her robe.

"No," he croaked. He lifted his hand and traced the curve of her cheek. Reverently, as if she were the most delicate porcelain in the entire world.

Her startled gaze snapped to his. "What are you doing?"

"You are so beautiful," the corner of his mouth lifted and his eyes gentled to a veritable caress.

"That's it… Hospital wing," she said. It would have been obvious to a blind man that something was wrong with Malfoy.

Hermione tried to push away from him, but he grabbed her wrist before she could even get off her knees.

"What are you doing?" she asked warily.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, his silver eyes bored into her very soul. Every emotion laid naked on his face; agony shot with desperation.

She gave him the strangest look. What the hell was going on? "I'm not leaving. We are both leaving."

"Together?"

"Sure," she said slowly, becoming more and more worried with each passing second.

He gave her the sweetest, most trusting, smile she had ever seen. For a moment, her heart sped up. The smile transformed his whole face. He didn't look pinched, afraid, or angry. He was beautiful.

Hermione tore her gaze away, landing on the scattered remains of the broken glass. With a flick of her wand, the bottle reformed and flew into her hand. The label read Morgana's Magical elixir- a magical boosting miracle, but the edge had curled up, not having mended perfectly. Hermione peeled it off, showing the original label beneath. It was handwritten in a gorgeous script. Experimental Amortentia.

Bile rose up in her throat and she looked back at the boy who was now under the thrall of this love potion. She knew she had to tread very carefully. Amortentia had strange effects that could vary from barely noticeable to severe. The one thing all the books warned was how resistant someone doused in Amortentia would be to being told that their love wasn't real or that they needed a cure for it. Hermione pocketed the now empty vial and patted his hand that was still wound around her wrist.

"Let's get up," she said quietly, trying not to show her panic.

"Okay," he agreed, letting his hand fall to her thigh. He watched her like a falcon stalking prey. Nothing was more interesting to him than her, not with that potion in his system.

His hand gently rubbed the top of her knee, caressing the exposed skin as her skirt rode to midthigh, something covetous glittering in his eyes. All at once she flushed crimson, noticing for the first time her position. She had straddled him at the groin, and she was not unaware of his harder, leaner body beneath her. Malfoy was all male, potent and virile, a veritable powder keg between her thighs. With all the grace of a newborn filly, Hermione gained her feet, panicked more from her reaction than his. At least he had an excuse.

Malfoy stood, closing the gap between them, standing way too close for her comfort. He was in her space, stealing her air, fluttering his fruity breath over her face. It was everywhere, his smell.

Once they were both standing, Hermione plastered on a shaky smile and said, "take a walk with me?"

"Anywhere," he smiled again. He reached for her, and thread his fingers with hers, bringing their twined hands to his chest, holding them over his heart.

"I think Madam Pomfrey should look at the cut on the back of your head," Hermione said gently, trying not to alarm his potion addled mind. If this was Malfoy in love, she could see why girls would chase after him. This side of him was miles away from his usual treatment of her. As if he was a whole other person. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment though. His feelings weren't real, and they would never be. He was under the effects of a love potion.

She swallowed hard. They were enemies. Rivals in the classroom. He called her names, fought with Harry, believed in his family's superiority, supported Voldemort! She shouldn't want his affection! But faced with the force of what he could give a girl, her traitorous, closet-romantic heart fluttered. And her mind struggled to silence the whispers that told her that she could save him, fix him.

"I'm fine," he said indulgently.

"It would make me feel better," Hermione insisted.

He snorted and shook his head, his smile still firmly in place before acquiescing. "alright,"

She took the first step and soon they were on their way to the infirmary side by side, her hand still clasped over his rapidly beating heart. The silence between them lay heavy and smothering. At least for Hermione. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to walk with her, neither saying a word.

"Wait," He murmured, pulling her to an abrupt stop.

"What's wrong?" She breathed, looking around for the reason, any reason he would all of a sudden be on full alert.

Putting his finger on his lips, he indicated she should be quiet, and she gave her nod of understanding. He flashed her a quick, cocky smile. And she stood there blindsided as he eased the infirmary door open with his shoulder.

He looked back, only once, and Hermione felt her traitorous heart flutter, hand still clutched in his.

It was really hard to hate Malfoy when he was like this.

Hermione tamped down her feelings and focused on the two major things in front of her. First and most importantly, Malfoy was under the effect of a love potion and second, he was not going to be pleased after he ingested the antidote.

Both were really good reasons not to make more of this than it was. It wasn't anything anyway. Not in any real, tangible way.

Malfoy let out a breath and visibly relaxed, pulling Hermione through the infirmary doors.

The room was quiet in a way Hermione had never seen before. There was no one there, not even crickets to chirp their lonely song. Always there were others in those beds, the matron bustling to and fro. But not this time, not now.

It was maddening, the silence. Why now? Where was Madam Pomfrey?

"Hermione?" Malfoy murmured as he pulled her closer, looking at her instead of the room, where his focus should have been.

Hermione whipped her head around and looked at Malfoy, startled. "What?"

"I said," he began with a broadening smirk. "that Madam Pomfrey seems to be out. You will just have to play nurse and heal me."

Hermione choked on air. All she could imagine at that moment was a white nurse outfit. The muggle, inappropriate kind that some of the more daring older girls wore on Halloween. Too short, too sexy, too… everything.

Malfoy sat on the edge of the nearest cot and guided Hermione to stand between his open thighs. He was looking at her as if she held the answer to everything. As if one word from her could make or break his day. She could feel her pulse pound in her throat, her whole body on edge, taut with expectation and curiosity.

He was going to hate her even more once he was given the antidote. She knew it. And yet, she couldn't stop, couldn't step away. She wanted this closeness like she wanted to devour the Hogwarts Library.

Hermione raised a shaking hand to the blood matted hair on the back of his head and flinched when he rested his forehead on her stomach. A deep warm chuckle told her that he noticed her every move and when she flinched, he took that as some sort of positive sign that she was affected by his touch.

And he wouldn't be completely wrong.

Instead of focusing on the improbable, she forced a business-like air. Probing the back of his head, she was at least relieved to see that he had healed. Then frowned, thinking that he healed too fast to be normal. Ridiculously fast without a healing potion anyway.

"Your head has fully healed," she said full of confusion, carding her fingers through the blood matted hair.

"Mmmm," he said in agreement, leaning into her fingers like a cat.

"How is that possible?"

"Wandless magic,"

"You know wandless magic for healing?" She couldn't help the skepticism in her voice.

Malfoy chuckled again. "What? Are you surprised? I am only second behind you in classes."

"Even I can't do that!"

"You also don't have a madman who took over your family and home. You don't have to get stronger as fast as possible because if you don't, your family will suffer first and foremost,"

"You think I don't have worries?" she asked shrilly. "You think I don't know I am hunted? That I am a target? That any moment the ministry could send someone with apologies for the deaths of my parents?"

"You are brilliant, and I have every faith that you will be alive at the end of whatever is coming. Me on the other hand, I doubt I will live the year out."

"Your parents surely wouldn't allow that," Hermione said acerbically, thinking how Lucius Malfoy must be Voldemort's right-hand man despite his current stint in Azkaban from the ministry debacle.

"You have no idea," Malfoy whispered into her belly, wrapping his arms around her hips, burying his face.

"Try me,"

"I can't say," he flexed his back, remembering the feel of the hot lashes as they ripped open his skin.

"Why not?"

"Because I will not put you in such danger,"

"I am already in danger. If you need help," Hermione said slowly, mind whirling with a thousand difficulties that nearly stilled her tongue. "If you need help, I will do my best to help you,"

Despite their years of animosity, Hermione felt compelled to reach out, to protect him. She could feel herself slipping further down the rabbit hole and into his enticing embrace. Her mind knew that he would deeply regret this exchange and his hate of her would grow. But she was powerless to stop her heart from freefalling into the enchanting picture he painted for her. He, as her devoted lover. Her, as his.

"I would not do that to you. You have the Order. Surely you and your family will be safe with them," and in a nearly unintelligible whisper he continued, "And if they can't protect you, I will!"

"It doesn't always work like that," Hermione said sadly, knowing that those in the Order were only as safe as their wards and friends allowed. And her parents were afforded little to no protections. Only the Headmaster's word that he had it under control.

"Merlin don't I know it!" He choked out, his fingers digging into her sides. "Nothing is as simple as it ought to be. I wanted to be powerful but now, I just mourn the loss of what my childhood might have been. If I could, I would take it all back…"

Hermione stroked the back of his head without having conscious thought of ever meaning to. "You are not the only one to dream about what if's,"

He exhaled heavily, and she could feel the heat of his breath through the heavy wool of her school robes on her tummy.

Malfoy released his bruising grip and pushed her back, far enough away so that he could stand. Hermione barely held back her sigh of disappointment.

Malfoy startled her by sliding his hand over her face; his thumb resting just before her ear, his fingers buried in her curls. Then he moved closer, his lips hovered over hers. His eyes were burning as he studied her face, her quivering lips, her shortened breath.

"I've dreamed about this," he murmured, clearly intent on capturing her lips.

What? Fear coiled in her stomach and she took a step back, then two, and three. His hand dropped to his side, confusion and hurt suffusing his face.

"Malfoy, you will regret this," she turned away from him, presenting her shoulder.

"Never," Malfoy reached out and caressed her back with the tips of his fingers.

"What did you mean? That you dreamed of this? You could not have possibly dreamed of kissing me,"

"I am very good at hiding my feelings when I feel forced to." He admitted. Hermione groaned. He was going to kill her tomorrow.

"Stop," Hermione begged, unwilling to hear any more for both their sakes.

Besides, she was all turned around. She didn't know what to think anymore or what to believe. There is no way that what he was saying was true. There was no way that Draco Malfoy has been dreaming of kissing her. It was just impossible!

"I can no more stop loving you than can the Earth stop spinning."

"You don't know what you are saying," Hermione protested in a breathy hopeful whisper.

Malfoy spun her around and the look in his eye was fierce and overwhelming. "Do you think I am so weak that I don't know what I am feeling?"

"No! But you are under the spell of a potion. A very powerful dangerous potion!"

"My love for you is real and one of the only bright and happy emotions I am still capable of!" He pulled her closer and buried his face in her shoulder, feather-light kisses dotting the skin.

"I can't…" She pushed against his chest, ignoring the muscles beneath her fingers.

"Hermione?" He said unsurely as she wrenched herself out of his grasp. Fear grew in his gaze as he watched her back away from him. He drew in a ragged breath, "Don't,"

"I'm sorry!" Hermione said, ready to run. The force of a sharp pivot plowed her face first into a hard, unforgiving chest.

"Miss Granger?" A familiar disapproving voice said as he steadied her on instinct. Hermione opened her eyes in mortification, tracing the endless rows of buttons up to Severus Snape's hawkish gaze. His suspicious eyes flicked to Malfoy over her shoulder. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Snape was staring at Malfoy significantly, in askance, no doubt wondering why the two would ever be caught together. However, it was made extremely clear that the two men were not on the best of terms. A potion riddled Malfoy glowered in fury at Snape's steadying hand that remained on Hermione's bicep. Hermione wrinkled her brow in confusion. Wasn't Malfoy Snape's favorite snake?

"Damnit!" Hermione muttered under her breath. She may have brought Malfoy to the infirmary to be treated but she had no intention of anyone actually knowing her involvement, certain that both her and Malfoy would want things that way after he took the antidote.

"What is going on here?" Snape asked, voice full of suspicion and derision.

"Nothing," Malfoy said quickly with as much fury and possessiveness that Hermione had ever seen. The tips of her ears began to burn.

Hermione avoided her professor's gaze, shifting from one foot to another. Guiltily. Never had she willfully not answered a professor when they asked her directly. She may have lied. She may even have outright been belligerent. She even may have led one into the centaur's den. But she had never, not answered. Especially this teacher. The one she was sure was able to see inside her mind.

"Nothing?" Snape replied, unbelieving.

Malfoy grabbed Hermione by the arm, tore her from Snape's loose grip, pulled her behind him, and used his own body to shield her from his Godfather. Hermione flushed deeper and saw Snape's eyebrow arch into his hairline, even as she frantically tried to avoid his piercing gaze.

"We were waiting for Madam Pomfrey," He said, taking a step to the right, covering Hermione completely from Snape's perusal.

"Whatever for?"

"He's been hurt," Hermione said in a strained voice. Delicacy was of the utmost importance. The Amortentia would dictate much of Malfoy's response. If she said the wrong thing, he would go into a frenzy. It was a well-known side effect of the love potion. He would fight the knowledge that he was under its effects. Look how he reacted when she said he was under a spell not two minutes prior.

And Hermione knew that any attempt to dose him with an antidote would be met with brutal vehemence and denial.

"I'm fine," he said, still protective.

Hermione dug deep into her pocket and pulled out the tiny vial that started this whole fiasco. Holding it up to the light so that Snape could see, she peeled away the fake label.

There it was in all its glory.

Experimental Amortentia.

Snape's eyes widened, and his lips thinned until it didn't even look like he had lips anymore. His eyes glittered with his fury, Hermione his main focus.

"How did that happen?" Snape accused, barely holding back his magic. She could tell from the way he caressed his wand that he was definitely considering using the thing on her.

"How did what happen?" Malfoy said, tightening his grip on Hermione's arm, having not seen the vial. Hermione patted Malfoy's iron grip before moving from out behind him, his hand still wrapped around her arm.

"There was a potion-" Hermione began but Malfoy cut her off.

"Don't tell him anything," his face turned hard, defensive.

"That potion?" Snape demanded.

"Yes," She whispered despite Malfoy's protests.

"You dosed him with Amortentia?" Snape growled furiously.

"Don't speak to Hermione that way," Malfoy threatened.

"It was an accident. And besides," Hermione replied to Snape defensively. "it was his potion. Not mine!"

"What would Mr. Malfoy be doing with Amortentia?" he sneered.

"I don't think he knew what it was!"

"You little fool! Didn't it occur to you to find me first instead of traipsing to the Hospital Wing?"

"Well, since he was hurt, and under the influence of an unknown potion, my first thought was the Infirmary. How silly of me!" Hermione seethed. After her initial outburst, she froze, raising her horrified gaze to her professor.

"Enough!" Malfoy yelled and lifted his wand at Snape. "Stay away from us! From her!"

Snape held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. However, the moment Malfoy relaxed, Snape wandlessly stunned him.

"I will take care of him," Snape said sharply. Hermione nodded, her white lips pressed together. "Get back to your high tower, Miss Granger."

"Then you are going to need this," her voice shook, still incensed at his accusations and horrified at her own mouthy rebuttal, handing over the empty vial of Amortentia and top label. "I caught him in the corridor after curfew. I tried to confiscate this potion and we had a small scuffle in which I accidentally knocked him over, breaking the potion bottle in the process. Malfoy also had a cut on the back of his head. The potion seemed to be absorbed by his wound. And I assume that is how it entered his body."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for fighting unnecessarily with another student," If he had looked angry before… he looked positively insensate now.

"But!"

Professor Snape glared, daring her to complete her statement. Hermione snapped her teeth together in righteous indignation but stayed silent. Losing ten points was worth letting her tongue loose on the man. Thank Merlin he didn't take more, as he had done in the past for less.

"Go,"

"Yes sir," she said, turning around the moment she was dismissed. She had no doubt that Malfoy would be dosed with the proper reversal potions as soon as possible. There was no way his side would abide his obsession with a Muggleborn.

It was just the way things were.

She fumed the entire way back to Gryffindor tower. It wasn't like it was all her fault! Malfoy was the one with a banned substance, not her! With a sneer, she silently bet that Malfoy wouldn't get into a lick of trouble. Not with Professor Snape there to protect him.

Hermione stopped and breathed slowly. Why did she care so much? It wasn't like this was the first case of unfair treatment. Malfoy's face floated to the front of her mind. His normal sneering hatred was completely absent. It was his face transformed with the most tender smile. His eyes dripped syrupy sweet. Like he cared. Like he loved her. She couldn't get it out of her head. No one looked at her the way Malfoy had. No one. Ever.

And she yearned for it.

Not for Malfoy per se, but that look. As if she were the sun and he was a planet, revolving around her, needing her. Blood rushed through her body and her heart ached. It wasn't real. That look, that feeling. He was under the effects of the most powerful love potion in the world. And she was starting to think that she wasn't wholly unaffected either.

It was as if lights just turned on in her brain. Her mind cleared. She hadn't noticed any characteristic smells when the potion broke. Not one whiff of parchment, freshly mown grass, or toothpaste… Why not? Why didn't she smell anything? Was she under the potion too? Is that why she allowed him to hold her hand? Is that why she couldn't get his smile out of her mind? Why every time she remembered his hot breath on her stomach her core clenched with desire?

Hermione turned on the balls of her feet, ready to run back the way she came, but paused. If she really was suffering side effects, they were so minimal that they would fade with time. Probably by morning. Should she risk Professor Snape's wrath by returning to the Infirmary?

She shook her head and clenched her teeth. She would not lose any more points from her house. Hermione turned back around and entered the common room and slowly trudged to bed. It had been such a strange day.

**HGHG**

Draco came to with a groan, his head felt as if an ax had been taken to it in the night.

"Good Morning," Snape said. His lips were pinched with annoyance.

"Where am I?"

"The Hospital Wing,"

"Why?"

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

Draco shook his head, wincing at the stabbing pain.

"You imbued Amortentia,"

Draco's eyes flew wide, staring unbelievingly at his Godfather. "How did that happen?"

"My words exactly! Miss Granger says you were in possession of the potion and when she tried to confiscate it, you both fought, a scuffle ending with you being under the effects of the love potion,"

"Impossible!"

Snape pulled out the vial that Hermione gave him with the extra label and handed them over to the unbelieving boy. Draco looked at the evidence and it slowly came back to him as if out of a fog. He remembered the opal-colored potion and stared in horror at the extra label in his other hand.

"Was I…"

"In love? Oh yes, and Miss Granger was quite good to you, too. I don't think she tried to take advantage of you at all. In fact, I think she was a bit dazed by you if what I saw in her mind was any indication."

Draco groaned and held his head as the memories rushed back in. Why wasn't he more outraged? Why did the soft skin of her cheek come back to him? Why did his body respond when he remembered the weight of her, the feel of him between her legs? The smell of her as she held him close to her breast? Desire rushed through him as he recalled the way her body moved when she reached for the empty vial above their heads. He doubted she understood what she did to him when she rolled her hips as she leaned over. It was the sweetest torture. And he wanted more.

He shook his head. What was he thinking?! He couldn't do this! He could never have her! The danger they would both be in! He blinked in surprise. He shouldn't be worried that they would be in danger! Shouldn't he be disgusted that it was her, a Muggleborn, who saw him at his most vulnerable?

"I thank you for giving me the antidote," Draco said, watching his Godfather out of the corner of his eye to see if he had guessed correctly. Snape merely nodded in affirmation and something twisted in Draco's gut. If he was already given the antidote, then why was she still in his mind, front and center?

Merlin! He couldn't let anyone know. The danger she would be in! As hunted as she already was, this would make her already questionable lifespan halve. Not to mention the horrendous torture waiting for him if he was ever found out.

"What is your plan, Draco? I could help you," Snape began in on the interrogation. Same song, different day.

"I'm not doing this," Draco said throwing the blanket off of himself and grabbing his cloak before striding to the door. Snape stood, scowling, watching as the door swung shut with a bang.