Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Summery: Draco and Hermione, both in their 7th year and head students,are thrusted into the past during the annual Halloween Ball. This a slow moving time turner fic with no 'instant' romance. May have OOC. Hope ya like.
"speaking" 'thoughts'
The cloak was secured snugly around her body and the hood brought over her fuzzy cat ears; she was taking no chances, in the case of Malfoy. Her wand, hidden in the pocket of her dress, just in case he decided to get rough. She was ready. Then it happened, her day had already been awful but just as she was silently trying to open her bedroom door a huge shriek came from the hinges, echoing out into the living area.
'How is it that every time I fricken don't care if I leave quietly or not I am practically invisible, on the other hand when I try and sneak away every noise known to man goes off" Hermione though as her head popped around the corner. Today was not her day.
There he was lying causally against the coach, his hair swepped cleanly to the back of his head with loose strands falling in front of his face. He seemed to be concentrating hard on something; repeatedly tapping his wand against the table, staring into space or perhaps admiring the wall paper. Thankfully he seemed to be paying no attention to her, and with that she made her leave. She was almost to the door, just rounding the fire place when he noticed her.
'Damn it all' she thought quickly; now trying to think of any curses that might distract him. 'Boils to the face, may traumatize him enough to forget me; but that's not released till next week, Fred and George will know I was meddling in their belongings. Hmm….. Black teeth may leave his followers to regard him for months… or perhaps Ferret permanently etched onto his forehead…PERFCT.'
"What the hell are you supposed to be" he snidely remarked, interrupting her revengeful thoughts. Leisurely, standing up and walking over to her rigid to examine her. She was plain, nothing revealing who she was pretending to be, the hood covered her face and overall facial features, but a few silky curls did pop out when she sharply turned to him. Boring. He was expecting more from her.
"None of your business, Malfoy. Just go crawl back into the shadows from once you came from" she snapped back, "And just what pray tell are you supposed to be"
"Duh…, I am a Dementor. Can't you tell? Gonna scare the shit out of Potter this year. HA! Wouldn't be surprised if he and Weasley pissed their pants." He commented glaring full force into her chocolate brown eyes.
His costume WAS fairly obvious she concluded. Black hood, cloak, trousers, jacket, vacant expression, and personal soul sucker. It fit him perfectly in her mind.
There they stood each locked in their standing positions staring at each other as if to seize each other up. However moved, blinked, or twitched first was the loser. Each click of the clock reverberating across the silent atmosphere, the environment tensing with every passing second.
Hermione finally just couldn't take it anymore, he was just standing there so nonchalantly, giving her one of his oh so famous smirks. Disgusting. She knew that Malfoy was just trying to prove some misconceived and meaningless point about who was superior, and she was going to shoot his theory down. Nothing was moving her.
Taking another quick glance at her challenger she shot a knowing look at the clock. And there it was, through the completely silent room a distant yell and a "you better get your ass down here" seeped through. Malfoy's smirk only continued to grow as the shrieking grew louder.
"Ugh I don't have time for this." Her hands flying up into the air, "Fine you win. Happy! Now I have to leave and meet Ginny downstairs." she frantically yelled "And get this damn day over with" she silently whispered to herself.
With that she turned sharply around the corner away from the fireplace and to the portrait entrance. Unbeknownst to her, her cat tail poked out through her robes, enticing Malfoy enough to give it a good, hard, yank.
There she was, a silent shriek clogged in her throat and a smirking Draco latched onto her furry appendage.
Normally she would have berated him and or ignored him till he was finished toying with her, but today was not her day. Eerily snaking her head around her shoulders she grasped her soar tail and violently tugged it away from him. Apparently, he wasn't planning on letting go, and thus dramatically started falling toward her. Hermione's feet, tangled behind her and caught on the handle of the floo pot. The jar tipped over, leaving the two in a cloud of ashy smoke.
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"What the hell was that for Malfoy" Hermione groggily coughed. Her face was smashed up against the sooty wall, her outfit wrinkled, and worst of all a partly unconscious Draco on top of her.
"I said get up you bug oaf. I know you are a awake, come on I'm getting an unwilling nose job… please your heavy" she begged. Hermione was no claustrophobic but being smushed into the ground and encircled in a small dark box was definitely no party for her. How could this have happened she pondered 'Sooo close to freedom, I had almost escaped and of course the prick had to ruin it. Typical.' She suddenly stilled. Her attacker was waking up.
"Ugh… my head… what did I hit it on… Oh Granger it's you." Malfoy said slowly; sliding off her still form and wobbly standing to his feet. His vision was still cloudy and a sharp pain continued to pound through his skull.
'Must have hit it on the mantle, during the fall" Malfoy thought still trying to jumble the recent events of what just happened together.
Hermione now with the missing weight scampered up and started to dust herself off. Luckily her outfit was undamaged but her cloak needed to be removed immediately before smudges of ash appeared on her dress. Not even thinking of who else was in the room she slung it over the coach and stepped out of the ring of smoke.
'30 minutes had gone by… Ginny was going to kill her.' Taking one glance behind her to see Malfoy was at least alive she raced out the portrait hole to the great hall.
Draco couldn't believe what he saw. Blinking his eyes repeatedly and swiping away the invisible ash... he tried to get a grasp on what just happened. 'Could I have seen a hallucination?' Checking his head for any serious bumps, and using the ol, how many fingers am I holding up trick, he came to the conclusion that he indeed was not using his imagination. 'She looked actually decent…. nah there was no way it could be true, I mean she's a disgusting little mudblood. '
Finally, dusting his clothes off and examining himself in the hallway mirror, he concluded his hair was perfectly aligned. Strolling out the door he shrugged off his most unusual encounter… and remembered his original goal.
"Potter won't know what hit him"
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I know that 'technically their wouldnt be floo powder in a drom room, or anywhere in hogwarts for the matter, but it coordinates with my story. Weider things have happened. Dont know actully how to dress like a dementor, except they have long flowing capes, with hood and like partly invisble. I think. My own inturpritation I guess. Also their may be spelling errors, seriously suck at typing.