So I'm officially crazy, writing yet another story, but here I go :) Enjoy~!
Three Little Things
By silver-nightstorm
Summary: She ran over him with her car. Now she's stuck caring for him, unless she wants to explain their situation to the Muggle authorities. She knew he would never let her live that down. Hermione/Draco. WIP. AU.
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Chapter 1: A Sleeping Bag, a Thesaurus, and a Losing Lottery Ticket.
She had been cautiously driving down the road in the middle of the night when she had started to snooze off. It was a very long drive, and she had been alert for the first four hours. But music, sodas, and coffee could only keep her going for so long before she started to nod off. Naturally, she didn't almost run over people in the middle of the road when she was alert. Naturally, something like this needed to happen just when she was about to doze off. Needless to say, she was awake now. Completely.
Hermione Jean Granger jumped out of her car and shoved her wand unceremoniously into her back pocket. She ran around the vehicle to study the prone figure lying in the middle of the dirt road. A man lay curled up in a sleeping bag with his hands clasped tightly around a thick textbook. He was very dirty, with hair of an unidentifiable color in a halo around his head and a scruffy beard worn in the hobo style, but he seemed to be alive.
Key word being seemed.
Panicked, Hermione pulled the man up into a sitting position. She leaned him against the side of her car and pried the thick textbook – a Thesaurus – out of his long, pale fingers. His other hand was clenched around a crumpled up card – a lottery ticket, she saw. She tried to pull it out, but to no avail. The man had a deathgrip on his lottery ticket; his losing lottery ticket was caught in a deathgrip. Deathgrip. No living man would hold something in a deathgrip!
Hermione could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate. Leaning back against her car, she took deep calming breaths and began to speak to herself. "Calm down, calm down. The car has a protection and cushioning charm on it so he couldn't have died. He's perfectly fine. He's even smiling a bit. Dead people don't smile. Do they?"
She fingered her wand, and jumped up, ecstatic.
"Are you a witch or not, Granger?" she grinned to herself, pulling her wand out. As quickly as her happiness had come, her happiness disappeared, and she busied herself with running diagnostic tests on the man.
A broken rib. Bruising down his body. Marks around his arms from hands that were gripping much too much. And more. One look at the diagnosis told Hermione that she wasn't to be blamed for the man's misfortune. After making sure he was asleep – or knocked out – Hermione levitated him into her car and drove. Pulling into her driveway, she levitated him up to the guest bedroom and firmly locked the door shut with him inside. She wanted to help him, but she wasn't so foolish as to let an unknown man into her house with no caution.
She flitted down the hallway to the bathroom, and soaked in the tub for a few moments before jumping into pajamas and snuggling into her bed.
Home sweet home.
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My first attempt at a long Harry Potter story :) Tell me what you think, and whether or not you want to see more! Con crit welcome and very appreciated.
