Disclaimer: I am not JKR, and don't own HP, etc, etc ,etc

Quick note: This is a bit of a filler chapter, so don't worry, much more action in the next chappy! With that, let's proceed to...

Chapter Six – Rescues, Rows and Irritability

"Blaise? Snape? Anyone?" Draco couldn't help it; he was feeling scared despite his best efforts to keep his fears at bay. He had no idea where he was, his wand was tossed in the hallway and he was bound by strong ropes. He had been flung here – 'here' could be anywhere, Draco just knew that it was dark, and cold – by Potter and Parkinson, and his ribs throbbed in pain. For all he knew, he could have been missing for minutes, hours or days.
"Mum," he whimpered softly, and hugged his knees closer to himself. More than the quilt of darkness, more than the suppressing cold, he was engulfed by an ominous feeling of loneliness. Draco would have been happy to see anyone, even Parkinson! Even Potty! Even the Weasel – no, not the Weasel. Draco shivered, grimacing at the sight he must be. This was probably karma for always teasing Colin Creepy's overgrown unibrow…

...

Hermione crept out from the niche in the wall she had been crouched in, watching the events unfold. She felt a flutter of nervousness as she saw Harry and Pansy run off with Draco. She bent over to Ron, who was still buried in pulsating pustules. She cancelled the spell with a flick of the wand.

"What'd they do with Malfoy?" she said, attempting for a nonchalant tone. Thankfully for her, Ron was pretty dense and didn't seem to notice the small spark of concern in her eyes.

"I don't know! I was here, bravely enduring those boils - "

"Which you inflicted upon yourself," Hermione finished for him.

"Well, er, yeah, but they still hurt!"

Hermione just rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to go search for Malfoy; just because they had snogged didn't mean she really liked him or anything… anyway, he was a Slytherin, he could take care of himself and Hermione was sure he'd be irritated if she 'rescued' him.

...

Draco had been feeling around the cold stone walls, but could find no means of a door. He didn't want to stray too far from where he had ended up, who knows where he'd be, then! He felt for weaknesses in the stones, anything. There was nothing. For now, Draco was officially trapped. At least the hexes were starting to wear off; his eyebrows looked merely bushy and his ears only slightly overlarge. Plus, the ropes binding him had loosened, allowing him to move his arms and wriggle out of their clutches.

...

After dinner, Hermione still hadn't seen hide or hair of both Malfoy and Harry. She was beginning to get seriously worried. Ron, oblivious though he was, had even begun to realize that his best friend was mysteriously lost.

"Okay Ronald, we're going to hold an official search for Harry. I've already alerted Dumbledore that Harry can't be found, but he didn't seem too worried. How can he not be concerned?"

"Too many lemon drops?" Ginny piped in.

"You're probably right," said Hermione with a wan smile. "I don't care what Dumbledore says, though. It's just not normal for Harry to be missing for this long. What if…" her voice trailed off. "Might this have to do with Voldemort?"

"No way," said Ron confidently. "He hasn't been at all concerned with You-Know-Who in the past weeks, you know, he was too busy tryin' ta get Pansy's attention."

"You are so shallow, Ron."

"Me? Shallow?" Ron spluttered, but Hermione had already left the hall and started her search for Harry… and someone else.

...

Hermione wrenched open the door of a broom closet. She had already searched two floors to no avail. She heard something. "Harry?"

"MMPH!" Hermione peeked towards the source of the noise and recoiled with a jump, slamming the closet door.

"For once Ron was right," she muttered. "That boy must have been slipped Amortentia." She shuddered at her sighting of Harry and Pansy in the broom closet… She was about to turn and go, when she called, "Harry!"

Harry must have stopped snogging Pansy for a moment because he replied (in a slightly dazed voice), "Yeah?"

"What'd you do with Malfoy?"

Hermione heard 'Room of Requirement,' then a smooching sound that indicated that Harry was incapable of saying anything more.

...

"I need to find the place where Malfoy is hidden… no, that can't be right. I need to find the place where Harry and Parkinson Put Malfoy. I need a place to hide Malfoy!" A door materialized and Hermione pushed it. It stuck on its hinges. She got a running start and crashed into it. Nothing happened. She tried 'Alohomora.' Nothing. "DRACO, OPEN UP!"

From inside the room, Draco heard a faint yelling coming from somewhere to his right. He carefully stepped to where he heard the voice and felt along a wall. A door of some sort had materialized. He grabbed the handle and tugged. "CAN'T OPEN IT!" he roared.

"ON THREE!" the familiar voice responded. In Draco's state of fear, relief, pain and exhaustion, he couldn't quite make out who it was.
"ONE… TWO…. THREE!"

With a tremendous crash, the door flew open. "Oof!" grunted Draco as something heavy fell on top of him. Correction: someone. "Blaise?" he muttered, weak with relief from being able to talk to another person.

"Excuse me! Should I take that as an insult or a compliment? And no, it is certainly not Zabini!"

"Oh, er, Granger. Rather compromising position you've put us in." He stressed the 'you.'

"You wish, Malfoy!" With effort, she got off him. He picked himself up rather unsteadily.

"Let's get out of here. And then I'm going down to Snape to report those two idiots."

"Not that he could find them to give them a proper chewing out," Hermione said.

"Huh?"

"Broom closet."

"Oh… Merlin! Bad mental images!"

The two hurried into the hallway. Draco stumbled, his ankle crumpling under him.

"Are you okay?" Hermione said, concern etched in her face.

"I'm fine, not like I'd need your help, Mudblood."

"Oh, so it's back to Mudblood, is it? Well, ferret I would help you if you weren't being such an arrogant git!" She hurried after him, down the stairs towards the Potion master's office.

"Why are you following me?" he snarled, not wanting to owe Hermione anything for 'rescuing' him.

"Well, I wouldn't want ickle Drakey to trip and hurt himself!" she said in a baby voice.

Draco glared at her but continued on his way. Hermione stood a few feet back as he knocked imperiously on Snape's door.

"Who is it?" shouted an aggravated voice, even by Snape standards.

"Draco Malfoy."

"Did you find a cure for lycanthropy, massacre some Gryffindors or confiscate Dumbledore's lemon drops?"

"Well, no sir, but-"

"Then you're not worth a moment of my time!"

Draco turned to storm back dramatically to the Slytherin common room, but fell on his ankle again. He grimaced in pain and tried to pick himself up again.

"Help me up, you ungrateful Mudblood!"

"No," said Hermione slowly. "I don't think I will. After all, who needs help from a Mudblood?"

With that, she turned on her heel and marched back upstairs. Draco scowled, emotions tangling and boiling over in a brew that would challenge Neville's worst potions sample. If he didn't start turning up the charm, he would never get those galleons from Blaise! Then again, why did he have to even pretend to like that stupid Gryffindor and look desperate while doing so? He would just rely on his natural charm (i.e. stunning blonde hair, eyes of ice and fit body) to entice Hermione. They had snogged, so what? He was always, always, always going to be enemies with Granger.

....

The atmosphere at Draco and Hermione's cauldron the next day was stony. Even Snape's glares couldn't compare to the looks that the pair was exchanging. Both chopped roots, stirred, and heated the potion silently. Finally, Hermione broke the glacial silence.
"Fetch a vial from the cabinet, will you Malfoy?"

"Stop talking to me, spawn of filth," Draco snarled.

"Glad you found a synonym for Mudblood," Hermione retorted coolly. Her glance was condescending, as if Draco was a small, petulant child throwing a silly tantrum. Draco squirmed, unused to the feeling. Usually he was the one giving belittling stares. Usually he was the one to get the upper hand in arguments. Draco was completely uncomfortable being on the opposite end.

"Stop embarrassing me!" he hissed, hoping that no one had overheard their exchange.

"Stop acting like a three year old, then, and fetch a vial from the cabinet."

"I can't deal with this – someone of your status talking to me as if I were some sort of butler." The statement had the desired effect: Hermione couldn't keep her cool.

"MY STATUS?! Oh you're one to talk, Malfoy, do you even understand what your father is? I'd bet his coif wouldn't look so pretty if he was locked in Azkaban where he belongs!"

"Don't insult my father, you scum! Your parents are Muggles! Probably couldn't tell one end of the wand from the other, eh Granger?"
"Oh, don't you talk about my parents-"

"Are we quite finished?" interrupted a smooth voice. Both students looked up at Snape, Hermione's face still blotchy with anger, Malfoy's pasted with a look of feigned innocence.

"I suppose that'll be… what, 10 points for accusing Mr. Malfoy, 20 for disrupting class and 20 for purposely being irritable. So, 50 points from Gryffindor it total, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione dug her nails into the table, enraged.

"And detention, tonight, 8 o'clock, both of you." Draco gave the professor a blank stare, nonplussed. "8 o'clock," Snape repeated.

Oh eff.

Yes, yes, it was long, and boring, and terrible, but trust me, I think you're going to like the detention chapter more...

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'd really appreciate if you could all tell me what you think of the story and critique! Thanks again!