"What's it going to be, cherie? Will you talk, or should we be a bit more..persuasive?" his foul breath caressed her neck, the ropes tightening around her body with each word. She hated the fucking bastard and his merry band of assholes, one more disgusting and stupid than the other. How they managed to catch her in the first place was a mystery…
She pressed her lips shut tightly together despite the painful constriction, a small trickle of blood from a cut on her arm dripping down her fingers.
She felt more than heard him sigh before a rough hand gesture over her shoulder to one of the other men caught her attention. The man disappeared just for a moment before a different figure stumbled into the room and promptly collapsed in front of her on the hard concrete floor with a grunt.
Hermione's breath hitched as she instantly recognised Draco but she didn't move or say a word. He was bound tightly as well but able to walk, or rather stumble, and looked to have an impressive bruise swelling on his left cheek. He managed to roll over onto his back and their gaze met briefly but before they could communicate anything, a red jet hit his body and he began convulsing in agony as liquid magical fire pressed into his veins and every inch of his body.
"Crucio," the calm command came from behind her and the spell flew past her ear, landing on the blond the moment he began to calm down from the first attack, forcing an agonised cry from his lips once again.
Hermione took a shuddering breath through her nose as she watched the painful convulsions, refusing to look away as she instinctively wanted to, in case she missed any opportunity to escape. The spell finally ended and Draco took in broken, shuddering breaths, beads of sweat rising on his forehead and tears flowing freely from his eyes. Hermione's breath picked up further as memories of the Malfoy dining room and the torture she endured tried to press to the forefront of her mind. She tried to synchronise their breathing, a technique they learnt during training, but it was of no use, she was beginning to feel frightened.
"Still won't tell us where your Ministry is holding my brother?" the words caressed her earlobe, his close proximity turning her stomach.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied steadily, praying that backup was going to get to them in time.
There was a beat of silence before the wand appeared over her shoulder again, pointed at Draco once more. "As you wish," the words were soft with suppressed rage and despite knowing what was coming, she couldn't help but cry out along with the blond as the unforgivable landed in the centre of his chest.
"Draco!" she tried to reach his convulsing body by lunging forward, fighting her restraints vigorously.
"Hermione!" she could hear him calling back to her.
"Draco!" She tried to reach him once more as arms wrapped around her firmly to prevent her from moving.
"Hermione! Wake up, shhh wake up, Hermione!" she was shaken once more before her eyes flew open and she cried out, trying to get away from the tight embrace.
"Shhh Hermione, it's alright, it's just me, you're safe," Draco held her tightly in his arms, cooing softly to her as her movements slowed down and her heaving chest started to slow its rise. "That's it…it's just us here, you're safe, I've got you…" he murmured in her ear but unlike a few moments ago, she knew it was Draco holding her and the words spoken in her ear were soothing rather than frightening.
Her heart rate began to slow and she felt the embrace of his arms loosen to allow her some movements now that she was calm and no longer thrashing. She took a few deep breaths before turning around to face the blond, her eyes taking in the sight of his messy hair and worried frown.
"Sorry for waking you and hitting you…" she said softly, allowing the man to pull her closer to him once more.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Merlin knows what would become of us if what we do didn't give us nightmares…" he reached up to caress her cheek to push the damp curls away from her face. "Want to talk about it?" he asked cautiously, knowing it could go either way with her. Hermione either described her nightmare in detail before centring herself and shrugging it off, or she simply refused to talk about it as it was to do more with real memories than dreams.
As he predicted by her violent thrashing, this was one of the nastier ones and was in no way surprised when she shook her head silently. "Leroux," was all she said but it made everything clear.
Jacques Leroux used to be the leader of a French magical terrorist unit, planning attacks on muggles all over the country to stir up civil unrest and premature parliamentary elections. It was one of the missions they had worked together, gathering intel on the group for a few weeks before agreeing a plan of action. Their informant turned double spy however received a better offer from the anti-establishment group and ratted them out, which led to their capture. Draco was tortured for nearly two hours before the backup he alerted during his ambush finally arrived on the scene and arrested Leroux and what was left of his group. It was one of those nights that really tested their friendship and professional partnership, and he could clearly see why it would be emerging in her dreams considering the current situation.
"This time will be different… We're a better team, we're closer than ever and though I shudder at the possibility of sounding like a bloody Gryffindor, I wouldn't want to be on this mission with anyone else," he reassured her gently.
As he held her, Draco realised just how close they were as they talked, her breath tickling the bottom of his chin. Her eyes always grew lighter like honey when she was anxious or scared. But there was something else in her gaze right now. True, it was anxious, but as he held her close and rubbed her back soothingly, they began to darken, almost glowing as her magic came to the surface from her magical core to just under her skin and showed in her eyes. And not surprisingly he could feel his own magic pulsing beneath his ribcage, as if wanting to respond. Never has this happened before that he could recall, but now that he felt it the draw of it, he instinctively leaned closer to the source of the magic, their lips but a breath away. He wanted to say something, but all his words were lost when he felt the answering thrum of magic between their bodies and her breath hitch at his proximity.
He didn't know who closed the final inches between them but couldn't care less when their lips finally met, sending a current of magic through them, making them part momentarily at the shock of it. They didn't stay apart long however as they clashed with renewed fervour, teeth clinking briefly before they adjusted their angle to merge more seamlessly. She welcomed him when he deepened the kiss as she pressed into his heated body, her leg coming up to wrap around his lower back to allow him closer. They fit so well together she could feel their bodies align naturally, her heated core pressing against his rising need, the thin fabric separating their bodies barely a barrier. Gods it has been a couple of months since her tryst in Australia and she was very much in need of some attention, going by how soaked she was in just a few moments.
She groaned into their kiss when dextrous fingers found their way under her camisole and pinched her nipple teasingly, toying with the aroused flesh and adding to her need. She could feel his hardened length pressing against her thigh and bucked her hips to rub their loins together, giving as good as she got. She felt more than heard him mouth a profanity against her lips as he gripped her hips tightly to hold her still for a moment as he began pulling on her clothes.
It was once her top his the floor and she was bared to his gaze that something shifted inside her and she realised just what they were doing.
"Draco," she gripped his wrist to still him until he looked at her, both them trying to catch their breath. "We shouldn't….not now, not like this…" she whispered, admitting that it wasn't the deed she was objecting to but rather the perilous timing on their mission.
Draco's gaze, usually so pale and bright now dark and burning like a pair of sapphires, flicked between her eyes and panting lips. His hand moved to caress her belly, feeling the hum of magic as it rose against her skin to meet his. "Have you ever felt this before?" he asked quietly.
Hermione tried to still her quivering muscles as they trembled under his touch but shook her head. "No…and I don't know why it feels like this now. It's never been like this when we touched before," she admitted.
Draco finally rolled off her and leaned down over the edge fo the bed to pick up her camisole. "You're right, this is not the right time. But on Sunday once we get home, can we talk?" he asked, watching as she slipped the material back on to cover her modesty.
Hermione nodded as she pulled her wild curls into a tighter plait and put some space between them but moving closer to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, I don't want to mess up this weekend, or our friendship," she admitted, hoping her magic didn't just ruin everything.
Draco shook his head. "You haven't and won't. We'll get through this. Now, maybe we should get some more sleep?" he suggested.
As they settled back down, with a respectable amount of space between them to not tempt fates this time, neither could fall back to sleep easily. Hermione could still feel her magical core flickering, her magic trying to rise to the surface at Draco's close proximity. In all their years of friendships, never once did anything like this happen and she was baffled as to why here and now it would chose to manifest itself. Was it some sort of drug? Did someone slip something into their drinks and it was now forcing their bodies to react to close proximity? She wouldn't put it past the Russians. One thing she was sure of however, and that was her feelings for Draco. That kiss lit up her whole body and she could still feel her inner muscles quivering hungrily in an instinct to be filled. After just one kiss… She would have a very tough time trying to ignore it and go back to being friends and goofing around his living room if that was what Draco chose.
On the other side of the bed, Draco was no closer to satisfaction himself. His body was coiled tightly and his magic was pulsing under his ribs, as if in punishment for taking away its responding force away. Never in his life did he experience anything similar - not during his trysts as a teen before he became too depressed during the war, not when he agreed to marry Astoria. He had loved her at one point, she was his wife, and he hoped they would build on that bond, but the most he could feel was the satisfaction of release when she decided to share his bed. This thrumming, this need for his body to be as close to Hermione's as possible was incredible. Far from a curse or effects of any potion that he could recognise, this felt like his very magic was directing him straight into her arms. How this possible though? They've been friends many years but not once did this happen. Why would their magic all of a sudden react like this? It made no sense at all….
Both eventually managed to drift off to fitful sleep, knowing they had a performance to put on over the coming days.