A/N- Wow, I can't believe I said, in the first chapter, 'only a two shot'. Who was I kidding? Special thanks to twitchylittleferret for the moral support (even if it wasn't intentional) and Jhoselis Broiso for giving me the idea for this next chapter.
Disclaimer- I adore HP, I don't own it. So ha, no suing!
Summary: Later the same day, like after dinner, but with Draco, not Hermione.
Jackknifed
Draco tossed his school bag unceremoniously upon the couch in the Slytherine Common Room. With another motion he swept his hand along the table and knocked an empty goblet onto the floor. It made a dull sound and rolled on and on in a half moon circle before stopping at his feet.
He sneered at it.
He'd at anything right about now.
Three and a half feet of parchment on some stupid potions? Not on your life.
Malfoy slumped onto the couch, pushing his bag onto the floor. Two ink bottles in the bag clinked together, the small noise echoing off the stone walls, reverberating within Draco's head, which was pounding.
"Ugh." He murmured, bringing his left hand over his face and running it through his blonde hair.
Through pale eyes he watched his hand, holding it up in front of him, turning it over, almost admiring the thin pink line running from mid finger to thumb. Draco flexed his hand once, twice, a third time, still in silence.
His languish thoughts turned to the muggleborn and his hand stayed clenched in a fist.
He remembered the look she had given him as she twitched awake that afternoon. He remembered the way her hand felt when he had tied the little ribbon around her finger.
Draco's face contorted into something between rage and… and something indescribable.
"Filthy little mu-" But Draco stopped himself. Running his tongue over his bottom lip he mused over how both their blood sparkled crimson in the lamplight. His thoughts turned to the events of the morning.
o.o.o.o
Malfoy had awoken from his little nap a few minutes after Hermione had indulged in hers. Sitting up with a groan he peered around, sure he had heard something . His piercing gaze fell on Granger.
His heart felt like lead within his chest as he stared at her. Pulling out his wand he pointed it into her sleeping face. But he uttered nothing. Instead, he pushed the strands of fallen hair out of her face and then quickly retracted his wand, stowing it back in his pocket.
Peering closer he noted the way her right arm hung limply over the desk and he reached for it but stopped.
What are you doing? He thought to himself. Touching filth like that?
But despite himself he touched her finger, without really knowing why.
He could kill her, sleeping like this. And here he thought she was more clever than that. Malfoy wouldn't go sleeping in front of Potter or anything. He wasn't that stupid. Potter would hex him.
Then why hadn't Malfoy?
Draco puzzled over how, when his hand touched hers, his pale skin seemed white against the contrast of hers. Then he felt the little cut on her finger. Turning her hand over he blinked down at the red and swollen nick.
With a sigh he untied the blue ribbon he had wrapped around his hand. Blood had dried on it from the day before. Still, he began twisting it around Hermione's finger, ending it with a little knot.
Work finished, Malfoy leaned back against the desk, swinging his legs over. He glanced at Granger again. How different were they, from such different families, from such different lives. Yet, when all was said and done. If Granger was to bleed, her lifeblood ran just as fiery as Malfoy's.
"Strange." He said, the soft sneer in his voice dying quickly.
Hermione stirred momentarily.
"Mine tasted like ice water your's like… mahogany."
Draco didn't know why he had said it. He smiled wickedly. What people would think, seeing him looming over the muggleborn like this! It was damn near funny.
Malfoy gave a short, hoarse little laugh. At the same time he heard something faint and fleeting.
"Draco."
His head turned sharply towards Hermione, fast enough for his neck to burn. He leaned forward. What had she said?
o.o.o.o
"Oiy, get up."
Draco peered up at the figure in front of him. Another Slytherin.
"What?" He asked stupidly.
"You're not the only one who wants to sit."
"Right." Malfoy tossed a death glare at the boy and stood, retrieving his bag from the rug. Straightening, he headed for the door to the hallway, pulling his cloak on tigher about his neck.
He needed air, needed space.
He needed to find Granger and tell her to, next time, fall asleep in someone else's locked classroom.
A/n- another chapter, next one in the works! Sorry the chapters are a little short, but that's the way I would like to keep them since the story is meant to be a seriese of short little scenes. At least that means I can get them to you every other day!
About that, school started again (after a four day weekend) so, I probably won't have anything else up until friday. Please review- it's like sending me a little gold star!