With a satisfying click, the door was shut behind them. Magically bound, there was no way out unless the witches who cast this spell removed it.

Ginny and Pansy showed no signs of releasing the seal just yet.

"She never even suspected," Mrs. Potter said, slightly shaking her head. "How lucky is that?"

"His Slytherin instinct's become amusingly lax these days," Mrs. Weasley said, glancing at the closed door. "Much to our advantage."

A beat later, and they were bursting with fiendish giggles.

"They're going to thank us later," Pansy said, much to Ginny's agreement.

Triumphantly, they turned towards the door...

...and saw their husbands standing there, with identical looks of resignation etched on their faces.

The two women exchanged annoyed glances.

Ron stepped forward. "All right," he said low, glancing at his sister before focusing on his wife, "tell us."

Pansy was the first to regain her composure. "Tell you what?" she asked, rather nicely.

Ron's eyes narrowed.

Ginny flinched.

Pansy realized her error - she was never one who would ask anything nicely - and hastily amended her statement with, "What are you talking about?" She made sure her tone was rightfully defensive and accusing this time.

Harry sighed. "What did you do to Hermione and Malfoy?" he asked, directing his question towards Ginny.

Pansy raised a brow. "What do you mean--"

"Drop the act, Parkinson," he snapped at her. "We know you two know something about their disappearances today, so what we would like to know is what did you do to them, and where they are right now."

The two women exchanged looks again.

"Well..." the younger Weasley hesitated. And said no more than that.

Sensing they'd get nothing from her, Harry and Ron focused on the other woman.

Smiling angelically, Pansy reached behind her and threw two wands at Ron's feet.

The two men stared at the wands for a few seconds.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron muttered, while Harry cursed behind him.

Their wives had really done it this time.


The first thing Draco noted, as he lazily drifted towards wakefulness, was that his head positively throbbed. He kept himself from shaking it and instead opened his eyes and blinked. Once, twice.

Then the awful truth dawned upon him.

"Did I actually sleep on a rug?" he muttered, to his everlasting surprise and chagrin. Dismissing the thought - Malfoys never sleep on anything that was not an expensive bed - he got to his feet.

The second thing Draco noted, as his eyes adjusted to the slightly dim lighting, was that he was in a bedroom.

Not his.

He glanced wildly around him. Did some foolish bridesmaid steal him just now? Locked him up in a lavish bedroom to ravage him? If so, then where was this foolishly bold bridesmaid and why wasn't he tied to the bed this time?


...unless there was another reason behind his being here.

Draco dragged his fingers through his hair. None of this made any sense. The last he remembered was... Pansy's wedding. Pansy hugging him for coming. Pansy giving him a tall glass of wine...

...and then, nothing.

His headache was increasing by the moment. Surely she wouldn't... No. Pansy would never...


Surely Pansy would never lock him here to have her wicked way with him! Not with today being her wedding day!

Frantically, Draco reached for his wand, eager to get the hell out of this place... only to have him find out that his wand wasn't there.

Anger poured like melted lava into his system. A murderous rage enveloped all his senses. His Slytherin instinct screamed for vengeance, his hands poised to kill--

--and yet here he was, without anything to vent his fury on.

What a well-thought scheme this was.

"I'm going to bloody mutilate you, Parkinson!" he yelled.



This was the greeting that met Hermione as she opened her eyes. For a moment, haziness permeated her view, blurred lines which refused to make much sense. Blinking rapidly, she tried to sit.

Her head felt twice as large and heavy. And her limbs... they felt as though they were made of rubber. Clutching something soft and downy, she used it to draw herself up - only to realize, as she was standing, that what she was clutching was the soft, downy side of a comforter. From atop a bed.

She was in a bedroom.

An unfamiliar bedroom at that.

"Merlin," she whispered. Calmly, trying very hard not to panic, she rethought the things she did earlier. She was at Ron's wedding, Hermione was sure of that - and while Harry got up to get her something to drink his wife Ginny slipped into his empty seat and handed her a tall glass of wine.

And then, nothing. She didn't remember anything after that.

Hermione frowned. Did Ginny... slip something inside that drink? Orchestrate this entire event? Nothing suspicious happened before that incident... and afterwards... well, here she was, confused and dazed.

The more Hermione thought of it, the more convinced she was that that was what occurred.

Fury bubbled up inside her. This was probably the sickest, vilest thing anyone has ever pulled on her.

What could Ginny possibly be thinking? It was Ron's wedding day, for Merlin's sake - Hermione didn't want to miss anything, let alone wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom as some sort of sick, horrible prank!

Instinctively she felt for her wand, wanting to inflict some pain on a certain redhead... only to realize a second later that her wand was not there.


She was going to kill Ginny. Slowly. Painfully. With blunt and heavy objects.

Grimly, she stalked towards the door, and that's when she realized the awful truth.

"What are you doing here?" the awful truth - known to the world as Draco Malfoy - yelled at her.

And suddenly she wasn't so calm anymore.


Eyes wide, Ron glanced at the door behind his wife. "But - that's our honeymoon suite," he said.

Pansy smiled. "I know."

"And Malfoy and Hermione are inside?"

Pansy nodded, still smiling.

Harry glared at his wife. "How could you?"

"How could we not?" Ginny answered, stepping closer to Harry. "Don't pretend you don't see it. The room practically sizzles when they're in it together--"

"It sizzles because their glares are so severe they could fry anything–"

"We just thought we'd help them along," Pansy cooed, blinking innocently at Ron. "Speed things up a bit."

"Who knows, the next wedding we'll attend will be theirs." Ginny grinned.

Harry gaped at them. "What are you two talking about?"

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, and said something about ignorant cretins. Which Harry purposely ignored.

"But... that's our honeymoon suite," Ron protested again. "We're the ones who should use it tonight--"

"Ron! Focus!" Harry snapped. "Are you forgetting the fact that Hermione's inside? With Malfoy, of all people? They could be doing who knows what--"

"Oh, they will soon enough," Pansy said, exchanging wicked smiles with Ginny.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because, dear husband - we made damn sure they will."


Draco was very close to losing his manly composure. Here he was, with a nagging headache and an awful temper at having his gorgeous self kidnaped and locked in a bedroom, only to find out later that he was wandless and not alone.

And the person who happened to be sharing this room with him was none other than Hermione Granger...

...who sure looked absolutely delectable as she stood there, with soft, luscious lips agape and--

Wait, what? What? Draco stepped back, glaring at the woman for all he was worth.

No. No. He did not just think of that about her. He did not! It was his headache - his thoughts were too jumbled and incoherent because of it, and it also caused him to have these sporadic bursts of idiotic ideas.

Yes. Yes, that was it.

He could not have thought of Hermione Granger in a purely impure manner. After having considered her a nuisance these past years... passably pretty, yes, freakishly smart, admittedly, downright haughty and stubborn, of course, still that was all she was to him - a nuisance.

Him thinking of her as delectable was a fluke. It was impossible. Improbable. Damn wrong and--

"Do you have your wand?"

Draco closed his eyes. He did not understand it, but hearing her voice, those soft words coated with her tilting tone, was doing unimaginable things to his senses.

He shook his head - and cursed later on, as he only managed to make his headache worse.

"Malfoy!" she shrieked. Sexily. "I asked you a question. Do you have your wand with you or not?"

Forcing himself to calm down, he faced her. And stupidly thought her to be very lovely. "No. I don't. You?"


Hermione almost forgot to breathe.

Something was wrong with her. Very wrong.

Because she just thought that Malfoy - evil incarnate, pride personified, most-annoying-git-this-side-of-the-world - looked absolutely good enough to--

Hold that thought! She covered her mouth. What's wrong with me?

"Granger?" he drawled, in an undescribably sexy way. "Are you okay?"

She was emphatically not okay. Hermione stepped back, only to have the back of her knees collide with the edge of the bed. Caught unawares, she lost her balance and was about to fall--

--until Malfoy quickly grabbed her by the waist and steadied her.

Looking into his eyes, his face mere inches from her own, standing with his arms around her, Hermione almost forgot to breathe. Again.

Seconds later, and she pushed herself off him. "I'm... fine. Really. Just... just..." Thinking of having my wicked way with you on this bed.

Oh. My--

"All right, that's it!" Hermione shrieked, determined to get to the bottom of this and away from him as much as possible. She stalked towards the wall, effectively putting half-a-room worth of space between them, and blurted, "I lied. I'm not okay. Something's wrong with me. And - stay there!"

His face darkened, his jaw tightened. Malfoy said, "What's wrong with you, then? Aside from the usual."

"Well, first off? I'm in a bedroom. With you." A horrible - and slightly tingly - feeling stole over her as she came to consider a possibility. "We didn't... I mean you and I..."

Malfoy's eyes darted from her, to the bed, and back again. "I woke up over there," he said, pointing somewhere near the desk currently laden with fruits and a pot with melted chocolate. "With my clothes on. Oh, and a blinding headache."

"So did I," Hermione said. "With the headache. Only I woke up here." She gestured at the side of the bed.

The tips of his sexy mouth quirked upwards. "We didn't do the dirty deed, then."

"Thank Merlin," she said emphatically, looking away from him and his overly hypnotic gaze.

Malfoy strode towards the door. "Door's locked. Magically, I believe."

Hermione tore her eyes from... the part of his back she had absolutely no business gaping at. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"I do have a feeling as to who's behind it," Malfoy muttered, scratching the side of his neck and tugging at his collar.

For a wild, uninhibited moment, Hermione fantasized that he was going to pop open the button there, and slowly undress towards his-- "Me too," she said quickly, halting the train of thought she just had.

"It's Pansy," he blurted out.

"It's Ginny," she said, at the same time.

They stared at each other.

"I'm sure it's Pansy," he insisted. "It's consistent with her methods. She handed me a drink, and--"

Hermione gaped at him. "A drink, you say?" She rethought her scene with Ginny. "Do you recall what that drink was?"

Malfoy drew his brows together. Sexily. "I'm not sure. It was... light yellow, I think, with a fruity, tangy taste--"

"--like oranges," Hermione finished.


They stared at each other again.

She sank on the bed, and wetted her lips. "I believe... we've just been tricked."


"You did what!"

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "Oh, relax. It's not like we poisoned them or anything." She jiggled the half-empty bottle in her hands.

"That drink was prohibited for a reason!" Harry said, wringing his hands. "I don't even know where you got a glassful, let alone an entire bottle--"

When Pansy eagerly raised her hand, Harry almost wasn't surprised anymore.

Ron looked at the bottle and gasped. "I thought we finished your stock days ago!"

All right, Harry amended - he could still be surprised.

"I saved a bottle, just for this day," Pansy beamed. "Just for this purpose."

"I still don't understand why we're not hauling Hermione out of that room and out of Malfoy's reach," Harry grumbled. "And having drunk that wine, who knows what they're thinking right now--"

"I know what they're thinking," Pansy stated, smiling happily. "A wild, raunchy tumble--"

Harry paled.

"Oh relax, Harry." Ron rolled his eyes, clapped him at the back. "Malfoy wouldn't hurt Hermione. The git's fancied her for years, and--"

Harry gaped at him. "What!" He had the look of a person who had just been betrayed by his closest friend. Which, today, would be completely true. "You... are you saying that--"

"Noticed too, haven't you Ronald?" Ginny said, linking her arms with him.

"Only a dunce wouldn't," he said empathically.

"Excuse me?" Harry snapped.

The groom scratched his head. "Right... sorry, mate. I don't mean you, technically, but it's just that, only an idiot wouldn't see..."

Harry sighed.

"Let's not forget your darling Hermione," Pansy piped up. "The way she responds to Draco is completely obscene. I think it's incredible no one's ever thought of locking them up in a room together to extinguish all that UST between them."


"What's UST?" Ron inquired innocently.

Harry shook his head. "Don't ask."


"Damn understatement of the year!" Draco yelled.

The room had grown too warm for his taste. There was an awful lot of space between them, and yet Draco knew he'd become too aware of her every move. It was as if she was right beside him, enticing him with every breath she took.

And if he were honest - which he weren't too fond of being, by the way - he would've admitted to himself that this was his normal, usual reaction to her presence every single time.

Only in those times, they weren't alone and inside a very convenient bedroom!


"We have to get out of here," she said meekly, as if lost in her thoughts as well. She then straightened her back, and pinned him with an extremely honest look. "You do realize what they've... possibly, purposely done to us, right?"

Draco looked away. "Only an idiot wouldn't."

They were locked in a bedroom together, the door mystically sealed, the bed large and accommodating... his damn hormones raging.

Yes. There was only one reason behind it all.

Granger shook her head, and folded her long legs towards her. "Why would they do this?" she asked. "I mean... why me? Why with you?"

Draco paused at that. Then burst out, with his manful dignity demanding vengeance, "What do you mean why with me? Who else would you rather be stuck with in a room that practically screams for us to--"

"Don't say it!" she screeched.

Reluctantly, Draco didn't. But that didn't keep him from pursuing his point. "Who else, then? Potter?" he said spitefully. "Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but the git's married. And an idiot. Who else... Weasley? Again with the married and being an idiot. How about--"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Granger said, getting to her feet. "I meant this entire event. I didn't want this to happen to me, with you or with anyone else!"

Standing there, with a slightly deranged, fully angry expression on her face, Draco thought Hermione Granger never looked more... irresistible.

Then again, perhaps he was the deranged one.

"I'm not!" At Granger's puzzled look, Draco amended with, "Neither did I, I meant." He paced, trying to keep his temper in check, and his thoughts in a socially, morally acceptable rating. "You're the smartest witch I know. Use that brain of yours and help me figure out what to do!"

Granger stared hard past him, and Draco noted that she was looking at the door. The small sliver of space underneath indicated moving shadows, which only meant... "There are people outside," he said, stating the obvious. He opened his mouth to yell.

"I can almost guarantee they won't do anything if we scream our heads off," she cut in.

He looked at her, annoyed at having her shot down his brilliant idea. "What should we do, then?"

A faint blush rose to her cheeks, making him crave to know exactly what she was thinking.

Draco was about to ask her that, when suddenly, in a move so fast it was a blur to him, Granger had pushed him to the door - and was now standing so seductively, so closely, to him.

He swallowed heavily. "Granger," he said, trying very hard not to show how her presence was affecting him, "what... what are you doing?" How he despised the squeak in his tone.

She smiled, and stepped closer. Barely an inch separated them now. "Giving them what they want."

And just like that, she dragged her hands up his chest, and brought her mouth to his.

It was like bringing a small, harmless fire into a room filled with gunpowder. Something inside Draco exploded - his hands where everywhere at once, exploring, seeking, his lips touching, tasting. Her scent drove him insane. Her response further fed his hunger. The more she gave, the more he wanted - and he knew, right then, that there was only one logical end to this.

And when she moved with him, Draco was suddenly, immensely glad that Hermione Granger was indeed a logical person.



"Shh!" Ginny glared at Harry. "I can't hear a thing!"

Ever since that loud bang from the other side of the door, the four of them had barely said a word. The women instantly pressed their ears to the wood, hungry for any sound indicating what was going on inside, while the men frowned ferociously and resisted the urge to drag the women out.

"Pansy, the guests might be wondering where we are," Ron tried to reason. "We have to–"

"Oh hush," the Slytherin snapped. "There's lots of entertainment and food out there. Also, they'll think we're spending some time alone as man and wife - they'll love it."

Now was his chance. Harry grabbed the bottle his wife was holding, and inspected it. Ginny barely even noticed.

Upon reading it, he found something remarkably... strange.



A few moments later, and the women were crying and shrieking and hugging.

"We've done it!" Ginny cried.

"You mean they've done it," Pansy corrected.

Ginny nodded. "Yes! That's what I meant!"

More with the shrieking.

Ron nearly gagged.

"We have to thank the wine!" Pansy said, grabbing the bottle from Harry. "If not for this--"

Then Harry spoke his words of doom.


Hermione fought to salvage her hairstyle - but she recognized that it was a lost cause. It was ruined forever. And she stubbornly refused to remember how it came to be ruined.

"Good to go, then?" Malfoy drawled from behind her.

It was disgusting how swiftly she reacted to those words. His words. If not for that wine, and this room... "Yeah, I'm just..." She pointed at her hair. "It's hopeless."

He stepped closer to her. "You think they'll guess what we just did?" There was a smile embedded in his tone.

Hermione's cheeks reddened. "They'll know," she stated.

"Here. I'll help." And with surprisingly deft fingers, Malfoy twisted her hair into an acceptable style.

She was more than a little impressed. And intrigued. And annoyed. "Have a lot of experience doing this for women, haven't you?"

Malfoy dropped a kiss at the hollow of her neck, making her shiver. "Maybe."

"Just my luck," she snapped. She then turned to face him... and fought the urge to smile.

Draco Malfoy really was a handsome man.

And she allowed herself to admit that now, because she realized that it was the aphrodisiac Ginny had given her behind it all. This was not her thinking, it was the wine.

Tomorrow she would think that he was just an ordinary man - attractive, admittedly, brutally sarcastic, yes, ingenious and annoying, of course. An ordinary man who happened to be a bastard both by profession and personality.

Just like old times.

"How do you even know the door will open this time?" he asked.

"Well, we've..." The blush became fiercer. She cleared her throat. "We've done our part. The seal's there to ensure we did what we did, and now that we did..."

"It'll open," he supplied. Malfoy crossed his arms. "How do you even know what spell they used?"

"I don't. Call it an educated guess." Determinedly, she strode towards the door...

...only to have Malfoy grab her hand and draw her to him. Again.

The kiss was soft this time - nothing like the raging one before. Nevertheless, this type proved to be the more dangerous sort. Helpless, blaming her lack of control on the wine, she indulged.

Minutes later, he had cradled her face in his hands. "This will change things, you know."

She shook her head. "It's the wine--"

"What if it's not?" he asked, his tone different.

Hermione stared at him. "We don't even like each other."

The tip of his mouth quirked upwards. "I'm willing to reevaluate the situation if you are."

She stepped away. "You're not thinking rationally. We both aren't. Tomorrow we'll be back to hating each other--"

"After this?" Malfoy indolently whistled, his face a picture of satisfaction. "I think not."

"Think all you want," Hermione snapped again, annoyed at her sudden sensitivity to his moods. "What I think is that I'd like to have two women's heads on a platter, please. With a serving of two idiots on the side."

At that, Malfoy's face turned grim. "I second that."

As one, they made a grab for the door...

...and amazingly enough, it opened.

"Well what do you know," Malfoy said, smiling at her. "You were right."

She didn't even have time to digest that praise. Her eyes were trained at the four people who, foolishly, stupidly, didn't run for their lives when they had the chance.


Harry and Ron both watched with grim satisfaction as their wives got their comeuppance.

"How could you, Ginny?" Hermione cried, keeping her hands from throttling the woman. "What were you thinking?"

Ginny tried to muster a smile. "Probably along the lines of, 'we want you to be happy'?"

Draco emitted a harsh laugh.

"Oh please," Hermione snapped, glaring at Pansy. "Try again."

The Slytherin woman straightened, brushed off invisible lint from her pristine wedding gown. "Well, that's the truth whether you want it or not. Draco, try to set her straight, if you please!"

Draco, too, fought the urge to throttle her senseless. "You do realize there will be hell to pay, right, Parkinson? Along the lines of blackmail, torture, horrible horrible deaths--"

Ginny crossed her arms. "Our husbands won't let you. They'll protect us from anything. Right?" She looked at the two men and smiled.

Harry and Ron stayed mute.



The smile disappeared from Ginny's face. "Traitors!"

"Idiots!" Pansy added.

"Do we really need to remind you that we've told you not to do this?" Harry lightly said.

"Hundreds of times, if you recall?" Ron added.

Ginny and Pansy still wore mutinous expressions, and said something about stupid, pathetic idiots not getting anything tonight.

Harry and Ron paled.

Hermione and Draco exchanged glances - then pretended they didn't.

"What's that thing you had us drink?" Draco demanded. "Give me a name, and I'll make sure the makers won't make anyone suffer again."

Hermione stiffened at his choice of word.

He must've noticed, because he was at her side in an instant. "Granger--"

"Save it." She stepped away from him, turned towards Ginny and Pansy. "Well? You heard the bastard. What's that wine called?"

The two women exchanged glances.


"Yes?" Draco snapped. "What, coming up with a label is suddenly too much for your pathetic brains to–"

At this, Harry stepped forward. "They didn't use anything on you."


"What?" Draco and Hermione demanded as one.

"That's impossible!" she cried.

"They slipped an aphrodisiac to us!" he yelled. "How can you call that--"

Harry shoved the bottle at Draco. "Check it yourself. It's a normal brand that looks like what they wanted to use on you."

"Had George drink it, and he didn't look like he wanted to shag the woman beside him," Ron contributed.

"Who happened to be Professor McGonagall," Harry finished.

"Thank Merlin he didn't!" said Ron under his breath. "Would've ruined my entire wedding–"

Pansy sniffed indignantly. "I don't understand it, mind you. I was so sure I still had one bottle left--".

"Or maybe you did use them all," Ginny snapped. "Some friend you are."

Pansy bristled. "Excuse me--"

"But..." Hermione paled. She gestured at the closed door. "But..."

Her expression completely shifting, Pansy had the grace to look amused. "That - is something you did on your own, kids."

"See?" Ginny grinned. "We want you to be happy, and you are now! Look at your face, Hermione. You're practically glowing!"


"That's none of your business!" Hermione shouted, fully angry this time. "And what do you mean... I'm not glowing! What you two did is despicable and morally reprehensible - and you!" She rounded on Harry and Ron. "You two didn't even try to help me get out!"

Harry and Ron both looked uncomfortable.

"Sorry Hermione," Ron mumbled.

"Damn right you should be!" Draco said, gritting his teeth. "What good are you as her friends if you can't even help or protect her? What a bunch of thickheaded–"

"All right!" Harry exploded. "All right. What they did was wrong, and what we did was wrong, too, but what else would you have us do? We said we're sorry, and you have to believe that. But, no matter what, the bottom line is that Ginny and Pansy only wanted you to be happy, Hermione." He touched her arm. "They thought you liked Malfoy. They knew this git's fancied you for years--"

"What!" the git said.

Harry ignored him. "So, you know, being the meddlesome twits they sometimes are--"

"What!" the meddlesome twits exclaimed.

Harry ignored them. "--they planned this entire event. And since they got what they wanted, and you two got what you wanted, I say it's time for you to give these meddlesome twits something else to obsess about!"


"Bravo!" Pansy said, nodding approvingly at Harry.

Hermione looked pleadingly at Ron.

He shrugged. "Sorry, Hermione, but I'm with them."

Feeling betrayed and horribly embarrassed, she started shaking. But her pride wouldn't let anyone see her shame. "I'm... I have to get out of here," Hermione whispered. Blindly, she walked out.

Draco was torn between following her and tearing people to shreds. Then suddenly it wasn't even a battle anymore. "There will be hell to pay. From both of us," he promised. And he followed her out.

Ginny lauded her husband. "This is why I love you, Harry Potter. You instinctively know when to swoop in and be damned heroic." She kissed his cheek. "Lucky us."

Harry cleared his throat. "I just have one more thing to say."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"Run." Harry produced his wand. "While we still can."


"Gran--Hermione!" Draco called after her. "Just stop, would you!"

She couldn't. She couldn't. How else could she face him, when... inside that room... it was her all along? Not some side effect from an aphrodisiac but her own responses, her own wants – and she was the one who even started


Hermione walked faster...

... and got the surprise of her life when Draco grabbed her arm and stopped her.

It was the battle of wills and their infinite, infamous glares. Until she willingly broke it. "Let me go," she said, through gritted teeth.

"We have to talk," he told her, tightening his hold when he thought she was about to flee.

"I have nothing to tell you--"

"Then hear me out, you crazy stubborn woman!" he snapped.

Hermione pursed her lips.

Draco dragged his fingers through his hair. "Haven't you ever considered that maybe they were right? Maybe... and I can't say you're to blame, but... maybe you did fancy me all these years--"

She pivoted in an instant.

"--Or! Or that other thing!" he called after her in desperation.

"What 'other thing'?" she said over her shoulder.

"Don't make me say it!" Draco threatened. "And don't make me stop you again, because I will drag you by your hair this time! To that room to have my wicked way with you!"

Since his shouting caused them unwanted attention, Hermione reluctantly did stop. "Get to the point!"

Draco did. "We're two, responsible, healthy adults - why can't we indulge in a liaison every once in a while?"

"Because I'm not like you. I don't just indulge in a liaison every once in a while!"

To her surprise - again - Draco smiled at her. Instantly, she was wary. "What?"

"I was hoping you would say that."


Draco stepped closer to her. "I did mean what I said, you know. Things have changed between us. Which is, of course, stating the obvious." He paused. Then, "I'm willing to reevaluate our current situation if you are."

Hermione stared at him. Was he serious? "But what if I'm not?"

"Then tough luck. I don't back away from a challenge." Draco dragged a finger down her cheek. "And I think the reward will be immensely worth it. Don't you?"

She was not going to be so easily swayed. "You're going to lose, you know. What we felt inside was artificial--"

"It wasn't."

"You don't know that! They must've used something else aside from the wine–"

"I doubt it." Draco held out his hand, charm oozing from every pore of his body. "Shall we go back to the party?"

"And pretend that nothing happened?" she asked, in a small voice.

"If you want. We can act as though we want to tear each other to shreds." He dimpled. "Not just each other's clothes."


He looked expectantly at her, his offered hand still available. Giving in just a bit, Hermione accepted. "Only because I want to murder four people, mind you."

He smiled. "I've always believed in starting small."

As the night ended, Hermione was convinced she had to prove everyone wrong, that there was nothing between her and Malfoy - except that one-time thing - and that there would never be anything beyond that.

It was just her luck, then, that Draco was out to prove otherwise.


Author's Notes: This is purposely a cliche fic of multiple types, (locked in a room together, love potion of some sort, matchmaking friends, OOC-ness) but it sure was loads of fun to write! I missed writing one-shots like this :D Thank you for reading, and see you on the next chapter of TCoDM!