            The man’s goblet coming towards her snapped Hermione out of her head. Lucius closed the distance between them, his free hand curling around the side of her jaw. Her breathing hitched as he raised the goblet to her lips, and she felt a gentle pressure tipping her head ever so slightly back. The potion hit her tongue—sickly sweet and nauseating with its essence of rose petals. As the brew slid down her throat, a sense of warmth bloomed inside her chest. She put a hand over her sternum, frowning.