When the break ended, Kit bade Draco farewell and met Blaise out in the hallway.

"Why is your face so red?" inquired Blaise curiously. "Did you and Draco already snog?"

"I don't think I'll be able to snog him anytime without dying," said Kit, covering her face. "It— the conversation just got so personal. And it was casual but I just..."

"Ah," said Blaise, understanding what she meant. He nudged her and wiggled his eyebrows. "You're thinking of getting frisky with Draco."

"I'm not thinking of it! Bloody hell, why is everyone bringing it up?"

"It's sixth year, Kit, no harm in thinking of it. As long as you're careful, no harm done, right?"

They ceased their conversation as they arrived at Hagrid's Hut, where he was looking rather crestfallen.

"Hi, Hagrid," said Blaise kindly. "How was your summer?"

"Oh, it was fine, yeh know," said Hagrid simply, looking behind them as if expecting more students to arrive. "Did yeh both have a good time? Bit o' fun?"

"Yes, it was rather nice," said Kit, leaning back on her heels. She and Blaise knew that they were to be the only students there.

When the official time for the lesson to begin arrived and no one had joined them, Kit saw Hagrid's frown go even deeper. Obviously, he'd been expecting Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

"Reckon they're late?" Hagrid asked. "Maybe bit o' crowdin' in the halls? Don' know much o' what corridors look like at this hour."

Kit bit her lip and shared a worried look with Blaise. "Hermione couldn't fit it in her schedule," said Blaise. "She's taking far too many N.E.W.T.s. I don't think the boys could either, with Quidditch and prefect and Captain duties... plus, they both want to be Aurors and er— they were already in a bit of a fix because they didn't get their Potions materials thinking they weren't going to get to take the class..."

Blaise's explanation went unheard by Hagrid. Their lesson was the dullest and saddest thing either had ever witnessed. Hagrid had hardly enough drive in him to explain what their course aims would be. He'd let them go early, though they'd remained behind to play with Fang for a bit, which made Hagrid smile ever so slightly.

"I swear, they've gone and broke his heart," sighed Kit. "I know they only worked hard so that they could make him look good, but still... that class has never been difficult and the boys at least could have sacrificed themselves. They've got too many free periods as it is."

"Tell me about it," huffed Blaise. "I thought I had a lot because I dropped Runes and Arithmancy, but they've got an extra one without Care... say, why did you even stick with this class anyway? I honestly assumed Hermione would take it and I thought it'd be nice— Care has never been bad."

"Well, Healers can learn quite a lot if they study creatures and their habits whenever they are hurt," said Kit with a thoughtful look. "Plus, I like creatures and I like Hagrid. I expect it'll be useful for me to know about all this stuff when I become a Healer— some medicines could arise from creatures in a way that doesn't harm them. You never know."

They'd had a free period after lunch, and while Blaise had gone to speak with the Gryffindors and Su about Hagrid's dismay, Kit had once again made her way to the library, where she found Draco still relaxing and finishing up his assignment.

"Hey," she whispered as she sat with him. Just like that, the butterflies were coming back.

"I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," he said quickly, looking a bit flustered. "It wasn't my intention. I guess I just jumped back into how everything used to be without being considerate of your feelings. I know I ended things abruptly and it's rude of me to just jump back in like I didn't hurt you. I'm sorry, Kit Kat."

She was perplexed at his apology. "No, no, don't worry. I just— it's all new to me that everyone is suddenly very comfortable with such conversations. It's just a little reality jolt— I'll be fine. Don't worry. I can handle the jokes."

The truth was, it was only weird because she fancied him. And the memory of their heated snogs still lingered, and she had to admit that she'd had many imaginary encounters that had resulted in steamier interactions than what occurred in real life.

They remained relatively silent through their free period, but headed to double Potions together all the same when it was over.

There were only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level. The only Hufflepuff was Ernie Macmillan, and aside from Draco and Blaise, the only Slytherins were Theodore Nott and Millicent Bulstrode. Kit and Su were joined by Terry and Michael Corner. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were the only Gryffindors.

"Nice and cozy, hmm?" said Kit as they walked in. Ernie walked up to her immediately.

"Kit," he said portentously, holding his hand out to her. "Didn't get a chance to speak in Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought— noticed you're getting even better at the nonverbals. D.A. did us good, didn't it?"

When Kit shook his hand, Draco cast Ernie a wry look. "Actually, she's just incredibly talented," he said pointedly, looping his arm in hers and pulling her away before she could respond.

"Jealous much?" she said quietly as they went to join Su and Blaise nearby Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who were waiting at the entrance.

"I never said that," said Draco with a cheeky grin. "He's pompous. I've never been able to stand that bloke."

Before she could retort, the dungeon door opened and Slughorn allowed them to file into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth.

The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. The group passed interestedly past large, bubbling cauldrons. There were three tables, and in front of each was a boiling cauldron. The last cauldron resided on Slughorn's desk. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Su sat at the first table, while Draco and Kit ended up seated with Blaise and Ernie in front of a cauldron that seemed to have boiling water in it. At the other table, Terry, Michael, Theo, and Millicent made themselves acquainted with each other.

"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making..."

"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything— nor's Ron— we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see—"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention... not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts..." Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He indicated the cauldron in front of Kit. Her hand shot up, but Hermione's was faster, and Slughorn pointed at her.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the where the Ravenclaw and Slytherin pairs were, "this one here is pretty well known...Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too...Who can—?"

Hermione's hand was fastest once more.

"lt's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here...yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us, and I can smell vanilla and new parchment and—" But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence. Kit could have sworn her eyes darted to Blaise.

"May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment. "Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No. I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

Slughorn beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her. "Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.

Draco let out the quietest of groans. "We both raised our hands every single time," he said a bit bitterly. "And he didn't pick us."

Certainly, he was used to Snape's Slytherin favoritism.

"Doesn't really matter, you know that you're still the prodigy," said Kit with a smirk.

"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course," Slughorn was saying. "It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room. When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. And now— it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

"Oho," said Slughorn again. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"

"It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"

The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter.

"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavors tend to succeed...at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry eagerly.

"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "Too much of a good thing, you know...highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally..."

"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael with great interest.

"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days." He gazed dreamily into the distance. "And that, is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt.

"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions... sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only... and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!"

"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win this fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke.

"One of us needs to win that bloody potion," said Draco lowly. "I'll lose my mind if Hermione gets it."

Blaise chuckled at this. "Come on, she's great, but you're much better at potions. You've studied this before."

This was true, but Draco didn't mean his statement just because of some rivalry. A potion like that would be useful for his task. Getting lucky enough to kill Dumbledore the first time around.

Everyone was rushing about and looking at each other. It was no secret that Draco and Hermione's potions were progressing the fastest. Kit was doing her absolute best, but she wasn't as naturally gifted when it came to doing a potion like this on the fly, and she was hoping that Draco would pull through.

At the end of the lesson, however, neither Draco nor Hermione proved to be the winner.

"And time's...up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!"

Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. He seemed quite impressed with Draco's, and he acknowledged Kit's enough to let her know she'd done rather well. At last he reached the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Su were sitting. When he saw Harry's, a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

"The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are— one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"

Harry slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket. Draco's mouth promptly dropped open, and Kit brought her hand up to pop it closed before he accidentally drooled into his cauldron.

"I mean, I don't get it," said Draco hotly in the Slytherin Common Room later that evening. "How did he manage it? Potter's never been brilliant at Potions."

"Would you give it a rest?" sighed Blaise. "I gave up time with Hermione because you said you needed to rant about something important."

"Then go be with her if this is so burdensome for you," he said shortly.

"Woah, calm down," said Kit, holding her hands up in surrender. "You're all tense."

Draco covered his face. "Just— ugh." Hormones, of course.

"Kit, you should give him a back massage," suggested Blaise innocently. "He could use one."

She didn't object to that. "Sure." She hopped onto the couch, climbing up and resting her back against the wall as she beckoned Draco to sit down. A look passed between Draco and Blaise, and Kit narrowed her eyes in suspicion when all of the sudden, Draco was taking his shirt off. Blaise looked rather smug, and at this rate, she was too stubborn to change her mind about the massage.

Kit and Draco weren't stupid. They knew exactly what Blaise was doing with his little suggestions, and yet, neither objected. Kit was glad that Draco couldn't see how red her face was as she rolled her palms over his bare shoulder blades, undoing the thousand knots she was finding.

"Bloody Merlin, you need a Healer to help at this rate," she cursed when he twitched as she started unfurling a particularly painful knot further down his back.

"Not all of us have friends who get touchy all the time," said Draco, wincing in pain. It felt good, and it was quite relieving, but it still hurt in the moment. "You girls have no issues being so intimate with each other."

"Is it really a crime to ask your male friends for a back rub, even if it's for medical reasons?"

"It's just not done," said Blaise, smirking at their predicament. Draco's face was completely pink, and it was clear from the way he was sitting that he was having other problems aside from just the slight discomfort from the massage. "Anyway," he said, "I'm thinking to try out for the Quidditch team."

"What?" said Draco. "You hate Quidditch."

"No I don't. I enjoy it. I just never thought to play for Slytherin. I know how, and I heard not many are trying out, so I thought I'd give it a shot."

The real reason lay in the fact that Blaise wanted Draco to have one real friend on the team with him. He and Kit had spoken after Care regarding Draco giving up on his worldly pleasures so easily, and he thought it'd help him stay on board with Quidditch if he had someone he liked on the team with him.

Kit shrugged. "Good idea, if you want to do it. Might as well help out now that you have so many free periods."

Blaise grinned. "Glad to hear you're both so supportive. Thought you'd laugh at me."

"Oh, we definitely want to laugh," snorted Draco. "But it's hard to laugh when this brat behind me is breaking my spine."

"I am not breaking your spine," she hissed. "Maybe if you weren't such a pretentious and competitive prat, you wouldn't be all tense."

"Maybe if you learned how to massage properly, I'd already be feeling better," he retorted playfully.

"Maybe if you weren't so scared to ask someone to help you before, I wouldn't need to learn to massage you in the first place!"

"Maybe if you weren't so stubborn, you might have helped me out before and we wouldn't be here, would we?"

"Maybe if you could learn to do things by yourself, you wouldn't need anyone's help!"

"Maybe if you were nicer, I'd be willing to learn."

"Maybe if you weren't so annoying, I'd be nicer."

"Maybe if you hadn't been born, I wouldn't be so annoying."

Kit was about to open her mouth to reply when Blaise clapped. "I think it's my cue to leave," he said, looking quite pleased with how the events that evening had progressed. "Good night."

The Ravenclaw rolled her eyes and started to climb off. Draco launched to put a pillow on his lap for no apparent reason, and draped his shirt around his shoulders, playing it off like he was moving to put his legs up on the couch.

Draco tried to act casual. "You've got some tension yourself, Kit Kat. Sounds like you're the one in need of a massage."

"I wasn't the one acting jealous of Hermione and Harry," she said, shrugging. "But if you're willing to do it, I'd be happy to put you to work. I bet you'll be just as terrible at it as I was."

"You weren't terrible, just not very good. You did relieve some tension. But yeah... I bet I'm better at it."

He certainly hadn't been expecting her to peel off her robes right that second. In only her tank top, she'd shuffled back toward him. "Prove it."

Long story short, Draco was