Draco's POV:

Hermione whips around, and I can practically see the hearts forming in her eyes as she looks at him. Normally, I would roar at her for being unfaithful, but she was under the influence of a potion.

"Your lovely and extremely attractive classmate who needs to borrow a paring knife," The guy jokes.

"Of course," Hermione squeaks. A slight blush appears on her cheeks. A blush arises on my cheeks as well, but for a different reason.

I think Hermione just found 'her love', meaning that was the person who had given her the potion...? She was furiously blushing out of love.

I, on the other hand, was just blushing furiously, like, out of anger. I hate how happy she looked with somebody who wasn't me. I hate that some random person came up and they just begin to ogle at each other. I hate it, and I hate it with every fiber of my being.

"Sorry!" Hermione apologizes, most likely realizing that she had only been staring at him instead of handing him the tool he asked for.

The guy, who I don't know just laughs. "It's fine."

As Hermione gets the knife, she blushes a little more and asks him for his name. "I didn't quite catch it the first time, since you didn't quite say it." She smiles and hands him the knife, holding the blade so he can take the handle.

"I'm Charles. Charles Ace." Charles holds the hand without the knife in it out to Hermione, who gladly shakes it.

"Hi, Charles. Nice to meet you." I feign the fact that I'm okay with it, even though in reality, I want to stab him.

Charles turns around to smile at me, though it doesn't reach his ears like it had with Hermione. I honestly couldn't give a shit, I want him away from me and I want him away from me now.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Malfoy," He says coolly.

Hermione giggles, a high-pitched very un-Hermione giggle that she never would have done had she not been given the potion. "Always nice to know at least some men still have manners!"

Charles smiles, but the rest of our friend group starts to look over, probably wondering what was happening. Astoria and Pansy exchange worried glances while Harry and Ron whisper something to each other.

Thankfully, my mother walks by our table, pretending to help us, though I know her intention was fully to drive him away. At this moment, I have never felt so happy to have a mother like the one I do.
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Narcissa's POV:

"Do you need any help?" I fake directring the questions towards Draco and Hermione, though I fully intend for it to send Charles Ace back to his own station, with his own wife. He may think that he's fooling people, but the disheartened look on Stacy Ace nee Lee's face says otherwise. (I had taken it upon myself to learn everybody's name, which of course, wasn't hard considering I have a excellent memory.)

Charles just innocently smiles, despite committing an obvious crime. There is nothing worse than upsetting my family, thank you very much. I could buy him and sell him a million times over, and still remain in the top ten in terms of money in the wizarding world (and the muggle word, of course).

What is this boy, absolutely brainless? It certainly seemed so, which is such a pity because he isn't bad looking at all. He had potential, and of course, this daft dumbo wasted it.

What. An. Idiot.

"Nothing, Narcissa. I simply had to ask dear Hermione if I could borrow one of her knives." Charles grins at me, an obviously fake smile. The fake smile I was taught to wear as a pureblooded woman. I continue to blatantly stare at him, not falling for his little act. Hermione smiles up at him before Draco quickly grabs her arm and asks her another question.

"That's Mrs. Malfoy to you, Charles!" I spit out to him as Hermione continues to converse with my son. Charles flinches the tiniest bit, and I pride myself in knowing that I hadn't lost my touch.

"Of course, Nar-Mrs. Malfoy," He corrects himself, saving his own sorry skin from a massive scolding from me, and quite possibly Molly. She hated it when people disrespected her.

I pointed back to his own station, where Stacy was looking at him with sad and expecting eyes. "I do believe your wife is waiting for you."

Charles sends one last 'discreet' sneer at my son, and I have to remind myself that we were in a classroom, so I could not slap his desperate arse.

Pity. He definitely deserves it.

As Charles sits down, I notice Stacy talking to him in angry, harsh whispers. He whispers to her, rather annoyed, and I see a glint of something on the floor.

A paring knife..he purposely dropped it! Umph!

"Knife cuts," I announce to my daughter-in-law and son. They both look up at me.

"What about them, mum?" My son asks me, probably wondering why he had to learn this if we had house elves. (They were all free elves who worked with a pay. There were over a hundred of them and they each had a rotation of one day a week off. These rules were put in place after the war and we had all changed our views.)

"They are important, especially when you want to serve food for a party!" Hermione chides. I smile at her, remembering when just not so long ago she would chide my son in the same way, however, back then, they were on their way to falling in love.

Now? We had no idea who the culprit was.

Oh but of course, Charles Ace had made it blatantly obvious that he had slipped her the love potion. How did I know?

Hermione looked at him the way she used to look at Draco, and Amortentia would only allow you to love the person whom had given you the potion.

Charles Ace has a long, winding path to Azkaban ahead of him. I would make sure of it.
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Draco's POV:

When my mother (finally) walks away to go lecture another set of unprepared students, Hermione turns to stare at that Ace kid with heart eye.

Again.

It was nearing the end of class, and Hermione was fidgeting in her seat. I had no idea why, but she was. It was becoming rather irksome, for there was no reason for her to twitch a lot. Was she going to ask him for his number or something? (Was that the phase? I'm pretty sure that was the phrase.) Or possibly she just has to go to the bathroom?

When the parents announce that we can leave, of course, Hermione springs up and all but pounces on Ace.

Naturally, she's got to go 'See my love!'

Ace looks surprised for a second, but then notices me staring. I busy myself, and pretend to be putting my things back in my bag. Ace glances back at Hermione and smiles.

That prick!

"So I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime?" Hermione asks him. From the corner of my eye, I see Stacy gripping the edge of her table, knuckles white.

I felt like doing the exact same thing, to be honest.

But why?

I don't know why!

Yes you do.

Shut up, brain!

"Of course! I'd love to!" Ace yanks up Stacy, who yelps in surprise.

That is no way to treat a woman!

Hermione would have normally said something about his rude behaviour, but she was much too infatuated with Ace.

Damn potion!

Stacy sends a pleading look at me, and I nod, knowing what she was asking of me.

I've got to get my wife back before it's too late.

I head over to Hermione and whisper into her ear, "Come on, 'Mione, we've got to go," rather loudly, just so Ace and his wife can hear it. Hermione pouts as Ace glares and Stacy shoots me an appreciative glance.

I pull out a reluctant Hermione from the classroom and a silence falls over us.

Why do I feel jealous?

You already know, Draco...My mother's voice rings in my ears, even though she isn't there.

Blood pumps in an out of my heart rapidly, it pumps even faster than it does during a Quidditch match.

Hermione takes a seat next to Luna in Charms while Harry (who probably noticed my deep-staring into space) sits next to me.

"You okay mate?" He asks in a hushed whisper. His voice is frantic, like he knows something is wrong. In reality, there was nothing wrong, or at least I didn't think what I was about to tell him was considered 'wrong'. It was more of a realization. A horrifying one. It would change everything, though.

I lean back in my chair and swing my legs over the table, feigning a nonchalant attitude so nobody would think anything is wrong. (Because nothing is wrong!) "I think..." I trail off, biting my lip and looking over at Hermione.

"Ace gave her the potion? Yeah, I think so too." Harry nods and pulls out his equipment-his wand, some parchment, an ink pot, ink and a quill.

"I think..." I repeat, this time, determined to finish my sentence. "I think I love your best friend."