Chapter Text
June 1999
“What? No!” Her voice cracks.
Snape’s expression remains impenetrable. “Regrettably, yes. The Periculosum Mortiferum virus is exceptionally virulent. Your magical core reacts to the pathogen by inducing a heightened state of—desire. You are to be relocated to the hospital wing’s private ward immediately. Madam Pomfrey has made the necessary arrangements. No visitors. For forty-eight hours.”
“Why on earth—?”
Hours later, she is alone in the isolated room.
Draco
I’m lounging in the Slytherin common room, attempting to tune out Astoria’s incessant prattle, when a voice strikes me.
A raw, unfiltered voice—Please… Please come. Again. And again. Utterly desperate. Echoing inside my mind.
Please. Please come.
Long-range Legilimency?
It persists for hours, grating on my nerves until I’m on the verge of losing my mind.
My jaw sets. My fingers white-knuckle around my goblet of pumpkin juice.
Help me.
I get to my feet abruptly. “I need some air.”
Astoria blinks in confusion, but I’m already gone.
The voice pulses behind my eyes.
What the bloody hell is going on?
My steps quicken. I follow the pull.
When I reach the hospital wing, Pomfrey steps in front of me. “Mr Malfoy, you cannot be here.”
“I’m asking you, Poppy—”
Please… help me.
Whoever that is, they’re calling me. I shove past Pomfrey and storm down the corridor. The door is locked. A flick of my wand—the lock snaps open. Pathetic. I step inside.
She’s flushed. Shaking. Eyes glassy. Her thighs pressed tightly together.
Merlin.
She bites into her wrist to stifle a moan.
My breath catches. “Merlin, Granger—” I move toward the bed. My voice lowers instinctively.
“No. Stop. This is insane. I’m insane. You’re here. Why?” She stares at me—half panicked, half dazed.
I kneel beside the bed. “Because you’ve been screaming in my bloody head,” I say, voice rough. “For three fucking hours. ‘Please, please, help me.’” I mimic her softly. “How exactly was I meant to ignore that?” I turn, intending to leave.
“This isn’t funny.” She tries to stay still, but her body refuses to cooperate.
“I’m not laughing.” My gaze drifts over her body. Her thighs quiver. Her breathing is shallow. She writhes against the sheets.
What the hell is wrong with her? A chill runs down my spine.
The door opens a crack.
“Expelliarmus.”
My wand flies from my hand.
“Accio.”
It vanishes through the gap.
Fuck.
“Colloportus.”
The door slams shut. Sealed.
“Congratulations, Mr Malfoy,” Snape’s voice rings out from beyond it. “Due to your remarkable stupidity in entering the room, you will now be providing Miss Granger with company for forty-eight hours. My apologies, Miss Granger. The forty-eight hours will restart. Do thank Mr Malfoy. Maintain distance. And refrain from doing anything foolish.”
My jaw drops.
“Wait—what? You can’t just lock me in here!” I slam my fist against the door. “Snape!” I rub a hand over my face. Then I turn back to Granger. “You couldn’t just suffer alone, could you? No. You had to drag me into this mess.”
“Oh, brilliant, yes, that was exactly my plan! I couldn’t imagine anything lovelier!” She throws her hands in the air, now pacing the room.
“Brilliant,” I echo dryly, raking a hand through my hair. “Seriously? We’re stuck in here for two days? What even is this virus?”
She explains—rapid-fire, about five thousand words a minute—and I try to process it.
“You’re joking.” I stare at her. “You’re practically burning alive and I’m supposed to just —what? Ignore it?” I gesture toward her twisting body.
“Incredible. It’ll be just as bad for you! Just wait!” Her legs part instinctively before she clamps them back together.
Merlin—
If my body reacts the same way in a few hours, I’m completely screwed.
“Granger. Truly. You never fail to surprise me.”
“I’m sorry, all right?”
“Sorry?” I start pacing like a caged animal. “You flooded my head with desperate pleas for help. What was I meant to— forget it.”
I need to figure out how the hell she managed long-range Legilimency. That unsettles me more than anything. She’s more dangerous than I thought.
But why call me?
Why not Potter? Or one of the Weasleys?
I stop. Look at her. Her need hangs in the air. I can practically smell it. This is madness.
Fine.
Let’s see how this plays.
“What do you need?” My voice turns smooth without my permission.
“No—this—this is impossible. Absolutely not. I swear to you, I didn’t call you on purpose. Believe me.”
My eyes narrow. “Do you honestly think I wanted to be here?” I step closer. My voice drops, slow and dangerous. “But here we are. And you—” My gaze lowers to her trembling thighs, her rising chest. “—can barely stand still.”
She drags her fingers through her wild hair. “Oh my God.”
I let out a quiet scoff. “No. Just me.”
She resumes pacing, determined to keep distance. Her hips sway unconsciously.
“What do you think?” She stops and looks at me with wide eyes. “Do you think we’ll be able to resist?”
“We have to.” The words are barely out when my trousers tighten.
God.
As if the thought alone could make me hard. Granger—Never.
“We’re adults. We can control ourselves for forty-eight hours.” My tone stays dry.
“Yes—we have to manage—” She runs her hands through her curls again.
“Yes,” I say quietly, staring at the movement of her hair.
Her breathing grows heavier. “It should be manageable.”
“Merlin, Granger, stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy.”
She grins provocatively—and walks faster.
My eyes narrow. “Stop.” I shift restlessly. “Sit down before I lose what little patience I have left.”
“Your patience? Since when has Malfoy had patience?”
“Since I’ve been locked in a room with a fevered Granger who refuses to stand still.”My voice cracks slightly.
I slide down against the wall, keeping distance. My eyes track her anyway.
The clinical room holds nothing but a bed and a curtain behind which there’s presumably a toilet.
Bloody brilliant.
“Stop looking at me like that!” I snap.
She grins. “Like what?”
I try to conceal the bulge in my trousers, knocking the back of my head lightly against the wall.
“With that look like you’re practically fucking the air.”
“Oh just—Shut up!”
“Unlikely.” I watch her battle her own body. It does something to me. A dull throb building low and heavy. “You’re shaking.”
“So are you.” She studies me.
I freeze, then push away from the wall.
Of course , I don’t have a bloody wand. “What?” I ask when I notice her staring.
“Wouldn’t it be better to think about how we deal with this together?” She checks her watch. “Thirty minutes done. Only forty-seven hours and thirty minutes left. This is going to be a delight.”
I turn my back to her, trying to steady my pulse. “And how exactly do you propose we do that, Granger?” My voice is sharp. “Mutual masturbation?”
“Oh, please.” She blurts it out in a strange mix of indignation and nerves.
I turn to face her. My face feels hot with frustration—and something dangerously close to arousal.
“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion. Better than both of us losing our minds while pretending we can resist.” My voice drops into a low growl. I drag a hand through my hair, then lace my fingers behind my head. “Or would you rather we just—”
“I—I—” Her words collapse in her throat. She takes half a step toward me—then stops herself.
I see it. I know that look. I feel it myself. Her eyes widen. Her lips part.
“Forget it,” I say lightly, as if I couldn’t care less. If I push any further, she might actually faint.
“No. I—I’ve never—I—” Her voice colors with humiliation.
My breath catches. “Never?” My voice lowers. “You’re a virgin?”
She makes an aggravated sound. “Yes! All right?” she snaps, but the heat in her cheeks gives her away.
“Well. Hell.” My hands drop slowly to my sides. “That explains why you’re losing your mind.”
She flushes deeper—and still shifts restlessly in place. “You’re not helping.”
I look away. The fact that she’s a virgin makes it worse. If this goes wrong, I ruin her.
Would she even be able to say no once this escalates?
The problem isn’t her. It’s what this virus might do to me.
I don’t even find her attractive. Not particularly.
She’s just—Granger.
But I have no idea what this virus will actually do to me. Maybe it’ll be easier for me because I’m experienced.
Or maybe it’ll be worse. And once the point of no return hits, it won’t matter who’s standing in front of me.
I know how to use charm. I know what women respond to.
The thought makes something twist inside me. But not with her. It should put me off entirely. Instead, heat settles low in my stomach.
When I lift my gaze again, she’s staring at me.
“Don’t tell me I actually turn you on?” She tries for mockery. “That would be hilarious. Why?”
“Are you serious?” I spin around and let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re a bloody virgin and simultaneously the most stubborn, infuriating woman I’ve ever met. And you’re practically on fire because of this ridiculous virus.”
“Stubborn and infuriating?” Her eyes flash.
“Yes. Stubborn and—” I swallow hard. I step closer. “You’d rather torture yourself for two days than admit you want me. That’s the definition of it.”
My gaze drifts slowly over her body. “Look at you, Granger.” I let the r of her name roll—and when I lift my gaze, her eyes are already on mine.
“What exactly is wrong with me?” She goes very still. For the first time.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” My throat is dry, my voice rougher now. “You’re just—unbelievably frustrating. You’re a virgin who wants to—” I stop myself for half a second. “—who wants to fuck and still pretend you don’t. Because—reasons.” My pulse betrays me anyway.
“I don't want to.” Her eyes widen.
“Sure?” I step even closer. “You’re pacing like something caged, your cheeks are burning, your lips are swollen from biting them—you’re practically vibrating with need. And yet you still act like you’re above it.”
“Stop—stop talking to me.” Her voice wavers. Less angry now. More overwhelmed.
“No. Because you’re not listening to reason.” I follow her movement. “And I’m trying very hard to stay irritated with you, but how am I supposed to manage that when you’re just—when you’re—horny and impossible and somehow still innocent?”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
That has to be the virus talking.
“Malfoy, I’m warning you. Stop speaking. Your voice is driving me insane.” Her eyes aren’t angry anymore. They’re pleading.
That look threatens to snap something inside me. My breathing deepens.
For a heartbeat, I actually look at her. The spill of wild curls around her shoulders. The flush along her throat. The way her mouth softens when she forgets to argue.
When did she become so—
No.
I shut the thought down.
She hasn’t changed.
I have—
No.
This is the fucking virus. It’s bending what I see. Warping it. Digging its claws into my head.
She’s still Granger.
Nothing more.
My jaw tightens. “Fine.” My voice lowers. Intentional or not—I don’t stop it. My gaze locks on her. And she knows.
“No, no, don’t. What’s happening to your eyes? They’re almost black. Step back.”
She retreats half a step.
I move closer. “Or what, Granger?” My tone turns dangerously calm.
She presses her palms over her ears.
I stop. The corner of my mouth twitches.
“Granger—” I draw her name out, letting it linger. “Listen—” I’m starting, but—suddenly she bolts.
She collides with me and slams her palms over my mouth. My eyes widen. Her body pressed flush against mine. Her hands warm against my lips. My voice dies against her skin. “Mmph—”
She’s still smiling like she thinks she’s won something.
I glare at her, but my stare—caught beneath her touch—softens before I can stop it. My breath burns against her palms, my face far too close. I shake my head slightly under her grip, shaping words she can’t make out.
She looks at me like she’s claimed me.
My eyes narrow. I’m painfully aware of how my body reacts to her closeness—my chest rising, my pulse hammering. I sink my teeth lightly into her palm—just enough for her to gasp.
With an amused huff, she releases my mouth.
The skin she touched prickles.
And I lift my head and hold her gaze.
“Satisfied?” I murmur against her skin. “I bit. That’s how far you push me, yeah?”
She laughs again, low and teasing. “If you were more intelligent and remotely talented, you’d have used Legilimency. But you’re not getting through my Occlumency. Idiot.”
I snort. Since when does Granger swear like that?
I lean back into her palm deliberately, letting my breath glide over her skin. Her skin is warm and soft against my lips.
Focus.
Damn her. She’s bloody good.
I can’t break through her mental walls. She’s fiercely focused—even like this.
“How are you doing that, Granger?”
“Doing what?” she blinks.
I press closer.
“Malfoy, no,” she says—but she’s smiling.
I grin beneath her hand. “Too late.” I hold her there. “I’m in.”
Her hand snaps back as if burned.
I catch her wrists and draw her back to me.
“You won’t find anything.” A soft laugh slips from her. The vibration travels through her hands and straight into me.
When she closes her eyes, I take the moment and speak into her mind.
“So predictable,” I murmur aloud, leaning close to her ear. “What you can do, I can do as well. How do you like that?”
“Your voice in my head—brilliant,” she replies dryly.
In my mind, I hear clearly: I’ll kill you.
I laugh inside her head. Low. Warm. Deliberate. “Too late, Granger.”
“Keep your perverted thoughts to yourself.”
One eyebrow lifts. “You’re the one who wanted me to use Legilimency. Don’t complain if the thoughts are perverse.”
“Step back! You’re—you’re far too close.”
I don’t move an inch.
I lean closer and speak directly into her mind again.
“Too close? You ran into me. You touched me.”
“I—yes. Because you wouldn’t stop talking. You’re—you’re—” She laughs—and whatever she was going to say dissolves.
I bend toward her, my mouth brushing near her ear. And then I catch her scent. God. “I talk too much?”
“You’re provoking me.”
I shift back just enough for our eyes to meet, sending my thoughts straight into her mind again.
“Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m savoring this.”
“We’re trying to survive. We’re certainly not savoring this.” She turns her head away, and her curls tickle against my nose.
My grin widens.
“Survival feels pretty good when you look this adorable and desperate.” I say it aloud and inside her head at the same time.
My free hand finds her waist, closing the space between us. “So… what exactly do you suggest I do about this virus, Granger?”
Her eyes go wide.
I tilt my head. My chest rests against hers, and I feel it—the rapid beat of her heart. “Cat got your tongue, Granger? Or are you distracted because I’m this close?” My breath ghosts over her mouth.
“I think one of us is going to regret this.” Her voice dips.
I smile against her lips. “Perhaps both of us.”
And before she can change her mind—
I kiss her.