I Love You, Don't Touch Me!

"In the poison'd entrails throw.-

Toad, that under cold stone,

Days and nights has thirty-one;

Swelter'd venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i' the charmed pot! "

Longbottom's toad, it's throat cut, was tossed in. That had been a fifth year's job to gather.

"Double Double,

Toil and Trouble,

Fire burn and Cauldron bubble,

Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the caldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt, and toe of frog,

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,-

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble."

Several wizards in long dark cloaks and masks hovered around a large black cauldron which was, true to form, bubbling ferociously in it's nest of half charred logs and sickly greenish-yellow flames. Slowly, a tall man walked forwards carrying a phial half full of a deep red liquid.

"Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;

Witches' mummy; maw and gulf

Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;

Root of hemlock digg'd in the dark;"

Severus Snape made his way forwards and tossed in a handful of black scales (swept up and carefully stored in his private cupboards since the Tri-Wizard Tournament three years ago) and a then drew out a tiny flask containing a some-what bloody tooth-- courtesy of one R.J. Lupin. When Lupin had accidentally walked into a door two weeks ago and knocked one out (of course he had gone to Madam Pomfry at once and she had given him a potion to regrow the missing canine), Severus had snapped the tooth up from the floor, as it skidded out of eyesight, as soon as Lupin had rounded the corner.

Liver of blaspheming Jew;

Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;

Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;

Finger of birth-strangled babe

Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,-

Make the gruel thick and slab:

Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,

For the ingredients of our caldron."

The man with the red liquid drew nearer and lifted the thin glass tube, only about two inches in height and half an inch wide. As the other men and women continued to chant and add the ingredients that the spell called for, he slowly --and rather over- dramatically-- poured it into the cauldron.

"Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Cool it with a baboon's blood,

Then the charm is firm and good."

He smirked as he turned and walked back to the large circle of the other Death Eaters. 'Baboon's blood' indeed. The witches of the day had so dubbed all half-bloods and worse as such, but, personally, Lucius preferred the modern term of 'mudblood' himself. The potion hissed loudly as the thickish red liquid dripped into it, and then, with a particularly large burst of sparks, it quieted and the bubbling all but ceased.

* * * * *

The still frozen body of Draco Malfoy was discovered by Madam Pince the following morning when she made her morning rounds before she unlocked the doors to allow students access to the library after breakfast. She had a brief shock, and sudden flashback to five years previous when there had been that big commotion with the Chamber of Secrets, but common sense quickly prevailed and she tried a reverse charm for the spell closest to being Petrified--the Petrificus Totalus. Draco's body twitched and as soon as he could move, he scrambled to his feet and spun around, his words of :

"Bloody hell!", as he turned to face whoever had hit him in the back with the curse, "I'll make you sorry you-- !" dying on his lips as he encountered the startled, quickly turning to angry and suspicious, face of the head librarian.

"And just what were you doing in the library after hours, Mr. Malfoy?" she demanded with a sternness that caused even Draco to snap his mouth shut.

Draco bit his tongue, even as he itched to say something scathing to the old windbag, who watched him like a hawk and gave him the evil eye whenever he tried to sign out a book.

"I wasn't here after hours, at least, not on purpose. I got-- distracted, by some people." he muttered, giving her his most sincere look. Pince glared down at him with an unblinking stare. Damn, she wasn't buying it.

"I don't care what caused your being here, Mr. Malfoy, but fifteen points from Slytherin and I shall be speaking to Professor Snape about keeping an eye on his troublesome students!" she snapped back at him, "--And don't think that 'innocent look' is going to work with me, I know you better than that! Trying to sneak into the Restricted Section I wouldn't doubt!" And with that, the aging librarian, whom Draco was willing to bet had been hired when Slytherin and Gryffindor were more than just names of houses, turned on her heel and swept out of the aisle, calling over her shoulder, "Get yourself to class, Mr. Malfoy, and if you make me tell you again it'll be thirty points!"

The tall Slytherin stomped out of the library, glowering at the books and attempting to burn a hole in the back of Pince's head with his eyes --muttering under his breath. He knew Granger had something to do with this, and he was going to make her pay. Especially after she took thirty points from him yesterday evening. He knew that his dorm-mates would notice the drastic drop in the Hour Glass which kept the house scores, by now, and with Pince's fifteen points...well, he had the feeling that there would be some pretty grumpy people looking for who had caused it. He stomped off towards the Great Hall for breakfast contemplating how he could skive off his Herbology lesson and looking forward to the double block of Potions that he had in the afternoon. SHE would be there then, and he would waste no time in letting her know just how much she had earned his wrath. After all, staring at the ceiling all night had certainly given him time to think about how he would properly make her pay.

* * * * *

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table that morning at breakfast, eating methodically and not really talking to anyone. Hermione had bustled in and out again in a matter of seconds--pausing only to talk to Ginny quickly, and grab a piece of toast with jelly. Ron had ignored her, but looked pained as he did so, and Harry felt an immediate stab of anger at his best friend's ignorance before remembering that he had all rights to be acting that way.

It had been Harry who had convinced him that Hermione had been snogging Malfoy, and Ron had been in complete disbelief. He had finally sided with Harry's view, which had really been rather easy considering Hermione had been scarcely seen over the past few days, and wouldn't talk to, or look at, either of them. Harry's story had become very plausible, as outrageous as it sounded.

Harry leaned over and spoke lowly into Ron's ear,

"I've got something to tell you, mate, and I have a feeling that it'll make you a lot happier than that mush you call breakfast." Harry grinned, indicating the wizarding world's version of 'cream of wheatí, which Ron was busy pulling his spoon out of. The spoon popped free with a loud 'squelching' sound and Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"What's that?"

Harry suddenly felt very embarrassed. He had made a huge mistake, and nearly destroyed his friendship with Hermione-- not that he was entirely sure things were fully right with both of them yet. Hermione hadn't said a word to him that morning--in fact, she hadn't been exactly cold to him, but she hadn't made any attempt to strike up a conversation either. She had been...distant.

Harry cleared his throat and turned his head back to Ron as Hermione exited the Hall after her quick chat with Ginny. A few seats down, on the opposite side of the table, his eyes met with hers. Ginny's that is. And she looked mad. Harry suddenly flushed scarlet and quickly grabbed his goblet of Pumpkin Juice and took a large swig, promptly chocking heartily on it as he both tried to take a deep, calming breath, and swallow at the same time. He coughed loudly, thumping painfully on his chest as he tried to force his lungs to work.

"Hey Harry, you ok?" Ron asked with a surprised look. "You didn't want to tell me that you failed your Potions paper and are now saying your last goodbyes before you drown yourself in an artificially flavored orange breakfast drink, are you?"

Harry managed to shake his head as he got his breathing back under control. But his thoughts were no longer on informing Ron of Hermione's innocence and his blunder; he had just remembered the incident that had taken place with Ginny last night! What if she told Ron?! If Ron believed her, Harry was dead. Ron might not look it, but he was slowly and surely putting muscles onto his lanky frame and he could take Harry down anytime he wanted to, if he really put his mind to it.

Harry suddenly lost his appetite. Why was he even thinking along the lines of 'if Ron believed her?' Of course Ron would believe her-- it wasn't like Harry was going to lie, and say that he hadn't practically molested his best mate's baby sister in a fit of anger, hurt, and jealously, last night, was he? Harry shook his head again. Of course not. He would apologize to Ginny when the time was right, and then pray that Ron never got wind of their...er...situation.

"Well, what is it, Harry?" Ron was giving him an odd look, glancing briefly at his sister, as he followed Harry's gaze.

"Er..." Harry desperately tried to come up with something to draw the attention away from Ginny and the images of Ron pummeling him into the ground with a borrowed Beater's club, not to mention Ginny-- she looked mad enough to kill at that moment. Harry made a mental note to avoid her until she had cooled down some-- like a week or so, and until he had thought up a good enough excuse for his inexcusable behavior.

"Er," he said again, his gaze averted once again as a new person sauntered in the Hall: Draco Malfoy. Harry's fists curled under the table. "We have double Potions this afternoon." he growled under his breath, not realizing that he had spoken out loud, and Ron's other eyebrow joined the first.

"And this is the good news that's supposed to make me feel better? Well, congratulations, mate, at least something else in the world is worse that this glop!"

But Harry was hardly listening to his friend's attempt at humor. His burning glare was fixed on Malfoy as he strolled across the room, grabbed a biscuit and ate it in three bites before washing it down with a goblet of juice. He laughed at something a few Slytherin's sitting near him had said, and then turned on his heel and began making his way out of the Hall. Harry jumped up from his seat, causing Ron to look up again and even Ginny to stare at him in surprise. Harry ignored them. He was only focused on reaching the exit at the same time as that slimy little bastard from Slytherin. He had about fifteen minutes before he had to be at Care of Magical Creatures with the Ravenclaws, and he wanted to have 'words' with one 'Malfoy Jr.' before he went.

Draco noticed Potter's beeline towards him from across the room, and sped up his pace a little. And, athough he still appeared to be casually moving towards the doors, his walk was a little brisker. He reached the doors just before Potter did, and at the same time as a group of chattering Hufflepuffs. He pushed his way through the crowd and out into the mostly empty hallway. He glanced around: a head of rather bushy brown hair just disappearing around a corner to the back grounds, appearing in the corner of his eye. Draco's grin widened as he hurried after her, glancing over his shoulder to note with satisfaction that Potter remained stuck behind the queue of scatterbrained students sporting the yellow and black colors of the house of the Badger.

* * * * *

Hermione slowly made her way across the grounds. It was a nice morning, quiet- except for the odd bird chirping in some far-off tree- and the sky was a pure, bright blue without a cloud in sight. The grass was wet, as it had obviously rained sometime during the night, and she sighed, a soft smile on her face as she inhaled the damp scent of the wet earth. She loved the smell of the outdoors after a good storm.

She had managed to avoid talking to --or even really looking at-- Harry, for her brief stint at breakfast. And, although he had apologized for being a world-class prat, there are some things that cut a person deep. Having one of your best friends assume that you had done something heinous without even giving you a chance to explain was one of them, and Hermione was having a mighty inner-struggle with herself as to whether or not she actually believed in the forgiveness she had promised Harry the previous evening. She wanted to forgive and forget. She wanted things to go back to the way they had been at the start of term. She was nearing the Greenhouses now, and noted that no one else was there yet. Wait, she checked herself, Luna was over by the door to Greenhouse Five. Hermione smiled and lifted her hand to return the wave that the dreamy Ravenclaw had sent in her direction before the willowy blonde rounded the corner and continued on towards Hagrid's hut.

Hermione had questioned Luna earlier in the year as to what she was doing in a seventh year class when she was only in sixth, and Luna had given her a somewhat annoyed look that would have suggested that she doubted Hermione's own intellect if Hermione hadn't learned to read the younger girl's face and reactions more closely that year, and, therefore, knew better. She had replied that she had requested to be moved up a level because the sixth year classes were too easy for her, then she had added that she thought Hermione ought to have guessed that, as Hermione had almost been placed in Ravenclaw herself and should have had been smart enough to figure it out, rather than assume --like most others-- that Luna was only there because she was too airheaded to notice that she was in the wrong classroom.

Hermione had been slightly shocked at this reaction from Luna, whom she was starting to like and want to become closer friends with (Ginny said that she was such a nice person once you got past all her random comments and such) and had assured Luna that she was indeed impressed with her accomplishments. She had learned later on from Ginny that Ron had made the comment about airheads to Luna first day of Care of Magical Creatures and Luna had been in a right tizzy when she had come to her next class with Ginny that evening. Hermione had made a point not to mention it to Luna again.

However, just as Hermione was on her way around the same corner of the glass plant houses that Luna had swept past, she felt a hand grab her arm and she was yanked back around the corner and out of sight of both Hagrid's hut and the looming castle. In fact, the nearest thing to her was the edge of the Forbidden Forest, about twenty feet off to her left, that, and a rather pissed off looking, pointy-faced Slytherin with a look in his eyes that spelled 'you're gonna be sorry you got out of bed this morning'.

She let out an indignant cry as Malfoy's fingers dug into her arm and whipped her around before she was slammed up against the back of garden shed behind Greenhouse Five. His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened as he seized hold of her other forearm as well.

"Let me go, you arrogant, pompous ferret!" Hermione yelled at the top of her lungs, and was rewarded with a sharp slap across the face as Malfoy backhanded her, effectively silencing her in the midst of any forthcoming insult.

"Now you listen to me, Granger," Draco hissed, glaring down at the girl he had pinned to the wall, "you think that was funny? That night in the library? I don't know how you did it, but you hit me with a spell leaving me to wake up to the 'good graces' of Pince and her following tirade to Snape, which, by the way, caused me to be spending tonight scrubbing cauldron bottoms just to keep her from ratting to Dumbledore about that little escapade! And I, Granger, don't like getting my hands dirty over some idiot's failure to read a textbook properly." With these last three words, his hands tightened about her slim shoulders and he slammed her against the wall to emphasize them.

Hermione struggled to loosen Malfoy's hands, and glared at him, trying to ignore the stinging pain in her cheek and throbbing in her head. "You bastard, that wasn't me, that was Har--!"

"You don't let up for a second, do you Malfoy," a voice cut in, once again, from behind him and Hermione felt Draco's hands press harder against her as she noted anger positively radiating from him.

"Potter," he hissed, rather living up to the snake 'mascot' of his house, and Hermione made a face as he half-spat the name out toward her face, before turning his head to send a glare over his shoulder. "Always around to save the day, aren't we?"

Harry had his wand out and was matching Malfoy in trembling rage, sparks verily shooting from his eyes-- and literally popping sporadically from the tip of his out-stretched wand.

"Let her go, Malfoy." Harry said clearly, his voice be-letting a 'this-is-not-up-for-negotiation' tone.

Draco sent a withering glare back in Harry's direction before turning around and bringing his face close to Hermione's so that he could whisper in her ear without Harry hearing.

"This isn't over, mudblood. I still have plans for you, and the rest of the filth that muck up this school. And when it's all over, you'll wish you had never been born." Then he released her abruptly, shoving her hard against the wall and causing her slight body to rebound forwards with a hollow metal sound as the wall of the shed shuddered from the weight that slammed against it, andand ignoring her as she fell to the ground as he stalked off.

Harry looked torn between hexing Malfoy out of existence --again-- and racing forwards to see if she was alright. In the end, the forlorn looking heap of robes and curly brown hair that was one of his best friends won out. Revenge could wait. Harry stowed his wand away in an inner pocket of his robes and strode forward quickly, dropping to his knees beside Hermione, who had both hands pressed to her temples in her semi-fetal position in the dirt. Slowly he gathered her into his lap and helped her to sit up, allowing her to lay her head on chest as he held her close.

"Hermione, fancy meeting you here!" he tried to say lightly, but his concern outweighed his attempt at a joke, and the words came out sounding hollow.

Hermione shifted in his arms, feeling incredibly relieved and embarrassed at the same time. How many times was Harry going to have to 'save' her this year? She was supposed to be the smart one! The one who could figure out anything: Malfoy, his annoyingly creepy comments from a few moments ago, what the hell was up with the cut on her leg, and --why was she blushing just now?!

"Er...are you alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to hold her gently and get a look at her face at the same time. He carefully brushed a stray tendril off her face and his eyes narrowed as he took in the slightly puffy reddish mark that was steadily growing darker on her right cheek.

"Did he hit you?" he demanded pointedly, and Hermione suddenly pulled away from him, getting to her feet. Harry jumped to his own as well, pinning her with an intensely angry gaze. "Hermione...?" he questioned. She turned away for a few seconds before spinning back around to face him, just as he reached out a hand for her arm. Startled Harry pulled his hand back from her and stared in surprise at Hermione's own expression.

"Yes, Harry, he did...but I pity him for it. He only really torments me when I'm alone. It's nothing like when we're in class. He gets his kicks picking on us lowly mudbloods, pushing us around and trying to build up his own self confidence by putting us down. I pity him..." she whispered, her voice deadly soft, and somewhat leaden.

Deep down she knew that there was no 'us', not really. Sure Malfoy put down all those that weren't pureblood, or, if they were, like Ron, he would find something else to insult --like Ron's financial status. However, when it came down to it, it seemed to be her that he hated the most, and she had no idea why.

She sighed and tried to take a deep, calming breath. Ever since early yesterday morning she had felt very weak, and as the day wore on, she felt worse--like all her energy was slowly seeping away. When Malfoy had showed up and grabbed hold of her a few moments ago, her initial gut reaction had been to curse him. She was tired of his constant jibes and put-downs and general abuse of her person. But, although her temper stayed intact (minus that one little outburst), her body just wasn't responding to what her mind commanded. Last night she had fought mentally just to draw her wand, and now, every time she so much as had a notion of inflicting harm on Draco Malfoy, or any other Slytherin who so much as gave her a condescending glance, her stomach twisted into knots and her head started to pound.

Harry stared at her. Hermione was changing, slowly, as the year went on, she was drawing in on herself, and not acting like the intelligent, brave, independent girl that he had grown to love over the years. He was beginning to worry about her. She should have been able to hex Malfoy halfway through the Forest before he had a chance to lay a hand on her. What was going on?