*Disclaimers are the same as always: I own nothing but my little thoughts from my even smaller brain. Enjoy the read! There are a couple of extra wordydirds (yes, I know that's jumbled up – it's on purpose – I say it all the time), but it's still falling closer to a 'T' rating. Worry not. It will be more 'M' related in a few minutes down the reading line or so. Just a warning. Lol.*
*On with the show!*
Saturday morning for Malfoy was cold. Draco had come to the Shrieking Shack in the dead of night; avoiding any possible detection by the locals. There was a steady but light rain falling, adding to his gloom.
He prayed his appearance wouldn't scare Granger too much. He was still clothes in his ragged robes, but had managed to clean himself up somewhat. His hair and face, mainly, so that he didn't appear so frazzled. Oh, who was he kidding?
Moving to the upstairs bedroom, he caught sight of his reflection in a long, oval mirror. Gone was the aristocratic air to his stance. There were dark shadows under his eyes and hollows underneath his already defined cheekbones.
His stomach rumbled loudly. Malfoy had yet to eat, preferring not to venture outside. He could if he really wanted to. The one piece of luck he'd had lately was finding and invisibility cloak in the last house he'd been to, carelessly left behind by its previous owner. It would make it a hell of a lot easier to keep an eye on the golden girl.
Hermione Granger. He'd been tracking her every movement for almost six months now. From the students' early release from Hogwarts in the spring months to the time they'd returned in the fall, just seven days ago. When Severus had told him about Potter's search for the horcruxes, and then he found out the Weasel had gone with.... He was so angry that they'd left her alone with no one to protect her. He still felt plenty of animosity towards the other two, but he had learned to respect the young lady in question.
Malfoy knew that if those little pieces of information got to Voldemort's ears, the Deatheaters would be waiting in the wings. The Dark Lord would most definitely try to use the young witch as leverage in his never-ending quest to end the existence of Scarface. He had been thwarted too many times already by the great Harry Potter.
He didn't know how long he'd been sleeping. The rain outside had subsided and he could hear water dripping slowly from a hole in the roof. His back ached. Falling asleep at a ninety-degree angle wasn't exactly conducive to proper back health.
He stretched, and then noticed a creaking noise coming from the stairs. He grabbed the cloak, quickly throwing it over his person before he was found.
"Lumos!"
It came out a sharp whisper, but he recognized the owner's voice. He viewed through narrowed eyes at the lovely young woman he was keeping watch over that walked carefully into the room. He wondered how he could have ever thought that Hermione Granger was ugly. Albeit gone was the frizzy hair of her youth, currently pulled into a tight and bouncy ponytail that cascaded from her crown. One of his other immediate observations had been her teeth. No longer suffering from a pronounced overbite, he supposed her parents – whom he had discovered were dentists – had undoubtedly assisted in the straightening of those pearly whites.
She still wore little or no makeup. He'd often seen her putting on a little lip gloss and a brush of mascara, and in less than a year she'd become accustomed to the curves that had begun their appearance a few years before. She'd stopped wearing all those loose-fitting clothes – opting to wear things that now fit her size and shape.
I've fallen in love with her. How could I be this stupid? He didn't realize at first that he'd sighed aloud. But she'd heard him. He could tell by the way her body suddenly tensed, her wand hand in particular, rather dramatically.
"H-hello? M-Malfoy?" Hermione searched what shadows were left in the room. She almost gave up when she felt a hand clap over her mouth as she was pulled into a corner. It managed to muffle her scream.
"Shh, Granger. Put that thing out. Someone's coming."
It was then that she heard what he already had, the thumping and clunking of heavy footsteps on the floor below them. She quickly extinguished her wand. The footsteps slowly and painfully made their way up the stairs and into the hallway outside.
Shit. Someone followed me. Was I so careless?
But she hadn't been. She'd been very careful on her way here, pulling her cloak tightly over her head to keep the water and any prying eyes out. Hermione hadn't noticed anyone watching her as she came. There had to be some other explanation.
It was then that she paid more attention to the young man behind her. She felt his arm circle her waist, pulling her in close against him where she was almost stepping on his toes. His breath tickled her right ear as she barely heard his whisper.
"Whoever comes, don't move; don't speak. And for Merlin's sake Granger, don't faint on me. I won't let anything happen to you. Just stay under this cloak."
She squeezed his hand in response, letting him know that she understood. At the same time she heard her own heartbeat grow louder in her ears, and felt the increased pace of Draco Malfoy's, thumping against her back.