_

million things I'm feeling right now, but only three things take priority.

The first one is anger, obviously, considering I had run into a certain Slytherin boy in the ROR, the second one is embarrassment, knowing I was trapped inside the room with him, and the third is guilt.

Guilt for invalidating my morals by so much as speaking to Draco, and feeling dirty knowing that he put his hands on me and made me feel weak.

I'm not weak.

My robes blazing behind me, I threw open the doors to the Common Room in pent-up annoyance.

There were a few students scattered around, but I caught sight of the three of my friends. Hermione and Ron were on the couch, and Harry was on the floor, his bare feet propped up on the nearby chair.

They all turned their heads when I walked in.

"Where the hell were you?" Hermione said, standing up as soon as she saw me, "you said you'd meet us back here, but when we arrived, you were still gone!"

It was clear I was flustered, but I couldn't tell them the truth of where I really was.

One, they wouldn't believe I found the Room of Requirement; two, even if I did, they'd ask me what was inside; and three, I couldn't tell them it was Draco. I definitely couldn't mention the fact that he pretty much harassed me for a solid minute and stole my bread roll.

That was not the subject I wanted to bring up around Harry.

"I got lost," I said, fumbling up a lame excuse, "haven't been here for a while, you know?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at me, clearly sensing something was up. Ron and Harry were oblivious, turning back to their small game of 'who can stuff a chocolate frog down their throat'. I usually won that one, but I wasn't in the mood to play.

As I brushed past the girl, I made my way towards the couch, but I felt her snatch the hood of my robe up and pull me back. Stumbling backwards, I felt the girl's nose brush against my neck, and she let out a shriek in surprise.

Everyone—with the exception of Ron, who was currently choking on a chocolate frog—snapped their heads to see what all the fuss was.

"I can smell them on you!" The girl exclaimed, whipping her hand out towards me, "I knew you didn't get lost!"

Of course I didn't freaking get lost! I've been going to this school for four years now, and I've now seen every nook and cranny there was to it. Yet...I was in deep trouble.

I blinked, my body freezing to the spot, "smell what?"

"Someone's cologne," she said, beginning to pace, "it's faint, but I can smell it."

Glancing away bashfully, I locked eyes with Harry, whose face had fallen into a stone cold expression. Apparently he didn't like the thought of someone's scent on me. Ron was now fiddling with another box of candy.

"Hermione, you're being ridiculous," I said, hoping she didn't notice the shakiness of my voice.

She gasped, "I am not being ridiculous!"

"Yes you are!" I accused, "you're being so ridiculous, a Boggart would simply run away if they saw you!"

There was a pause, the sound of the crackling fire being the only thing circling the room. Everyone—with the exception of Ron, again— was watching the scene with intensity.

A few moments later, Hermione snapped her fingers and spun in a circle, slamming her foot down on the ground. That was her way of showing she had figured something out.

Blimey.

"Lemon and vanilla," she said, exhaling with pride, "with a hint of tree bark. That's what the cologne smells like."

Even thinking about those three combinations brought someone to mind. It was the smell that filled up the hidden room for a few moments, it's pungency increasing when that someone had their hand around my mouth.

And by someone, I mean Draco.

Now listen, I hated every single moment I was stuck in that room, but it wasn't my fault his stupid perfume ended up on me! He literally shoved me up against a wall!

And even though that was the truth, I couldn't explain myself. Then they'd know I was with Malfoy, and it would make the three of my friends lose their temper just by thinking about it. Specifically Harry. He didn't like it when other guys touched me, and I occasionally got jealous when other girls touched him, but he was more of the jealous type.

Not to mention, it was Draco. His literal arch-nemesis.

Harry was going to kill me, Harry was going to kill me, Harry was going to—

"Relax, Hermione," Harry yawned turning back to his box of chocolate, "it's my cologne you're smelling on her."

Without thinking, I let out the huge puff of air I had been holding in. Phew.

Now that I think of it, Harry is completely wrong. The cologne I gifted him for his birthday smelled like maple syrup, cinnamon, and a tiny hint of honey. He wore that one on the daily.

I was dumbfounded to know that he didn't even know the scent of his own cologne.

Throwing an 'I told you so' look at Hermione, I stalked over to where Harry was laying, and plopped down next to him. His messy dark hair glinted in the firelight, the thin rims of his wire glasses pressing against his nose.

If only he knew.