He was drowning in peonies and vanilla bean. All of the voices inside Draco’s head that had told him for years that this was a bad idea– that he didn’t deserve her, that he could never have her– were silenced. As his tongue snaked out to meet her own, as his hand met her hip and pushed her against the wall outside the headmistress’ office, as he listened intently to the soft sighs from Granger, as his magic lit up from the place where his hand had moved to lie gently against Granger’s neck, as the world seemed to right itself in this seemingly random and insignificant moment in time, Draco made a decision. 