The gauzy haze where time and questions slipped away filtered into her mind, but Hermione batted it away with a sharp, "Stop!" and the fog fled as if it had never been. She wanted to ask the demon if he’d influenced her with it, if her thoughts and the peace and, and passion between them were truly organic. But if the connection between them was manufactured or manipulated like he’d accused the Order of doing, did she truly want to find out?