CHAPTER 11: DETAINED IN DETENTION
By the end of November, Hermione and Ron's new romance was the talk of the school. Even Professor Flitwick "accidentally" partnered them for every task. By the end of the month, people were quite sick of it.
Ron was a boy in love. He clung to Hermione like Dudley to a buffet line. He always opened doors and carried her books. When she would 'get away' to study in the library, Ron would suddenly remember he had to write meters long essays. And when they kissed, Hermione really thought it felt more like a chore as his girlfriend than an intimate moment they shared…But she still did not have the heart to tell him.
Draco had been spending an odd amount of time following Harry around and eavesdropping on him whenever the opportunity presented. Though he never got close enough to hear what, Draco got the idea that Harry may have been planning something himself.
One evening Draco had such luck as to sneak under the very Quidditch benches on which the trio sat quietly talking. "Harry, don't be stupid. It's not very bright to go there, especially when you know nothing about this place." Hermione said looking stern.
"I've already been there, and it's time. This time I can't let him hurt anyone else. He killed my parents, and Sirius and Dumbledore all died because of him," Harry looked away and added quietly, "protecting me. It won't happen again."
Draco sat back on his heels. Did they know about the house of Gaunt? It was Unplottable, how could he have been there? He thought to himself.
"Harry," Hermione started hesitantly, and cutting into Draco thoughts. "Harry, I think they might be planning something--"
Harry screwed up his face, and Ron seemed to say what Harry was thinking. "They'd have to be really thick wouldn't they," he said looking reluctant to disagree with Hermione. "I just mean the Ministry would be expecting this wouldn't they?" He added.
Draco smirked; it was obvious who had the brains in that relationship; shows how much he knew.
"Last night Malfoy and I had an awful row…" Hermione began. Draco knew exactly what was coming and he had to stop her from telling them. He quickly looked around the area. Not far off, there were a group of Hufflepuffs tossing a quaffle.
Silently casting the incantation, he bewitched it to fly right and Ron's face.
"Bloody Hell?" Ron swore loudly and pulled his wand looking ready to hex the students.
"Ron no, it's not worth it, you'll get detention!" Hermione pulled his wand hand away.
"Well, well Weaselbee, you must learn to watch your temper." In the commotion Draco managed to slip from beneath the stands.
Harry looked more annoyed than angry. "You know Malfoy, you've got some nerve coming back to this school after what you did. In case you haven't noticed, our head master is dead…because of you." Harry looked as if he considered for a moment. "Then again, I feel sorry for you…you're just a puppet. Doing everything you're made to do." He added.
Draco rolled his eyes apparently unfazed by Harry remarks. "You know that's really getting old. If I had done anything wrong, I wouldn't be here. Now--"
At that moment a scared looking first year cleared her throat handing Hermione a small folded piece of parchment. Quickly unfolding it, she read aloud:
To Heads Girl and Boy
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy
You are required to sit detention with Argus Filch
30th November, 7 O'clock
Reason: Neglecting Heads' Duties on 31st October
Sincerely,
Headmistress
Minerva McGonagall
"That's tonight!" Said Ron incredulously. Hermione shook her head
"Fabulous, just the person I wanted to spend my night with." Hermione said to Ron and Harry, dusting snowflakes that had begun to fall from her hair.
"Yeah, and please know I wanted to spend my Friday with you too. A Mudblood."
"Impedimentia!" This time Harry whipped his wand out. And before Draco could react, he had been thrown some distance onto the Quidditch pitch. He jumped up off of the cold hard ground and pulled his wand too.
"Yeah, that's real bright." Said Ron, holding his wand out next to Harry's.
"Ron, Harry…put them away. I can't stand here and watch you hex him. I'm already in enough trouble as it is!"
Draco frowned, silently agreed with Hermione and put his wand away as well. "20 points from Gryffindor." He said nastily and walked away.
"Come on, let's go inside," Hermione said. "It's starting to snow."
Draco arrived outside of Filch's door at 7 o'clock that evening. The door was covered in fading pieces of parchment. They were filled top to bottom with proposed rules and restrictions by Filch over the ages.
The heavy door creaked and groaned as Draco pushed revealing a dark room no bigger than his closet. In the room, filing cabinets lined the tiny walls. Their drawers stuffed with corners of files peaking from various areas. Documents on top of the cabinets teetered almost to the ceiling in unorganized piles. And the room dimly lit by candles, smelled vaguely of cabbage and burnt parchment.
Hermione sat attentively on a tiny stool, beside her, another empty stood waiting for him.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, after all these years I'll finally get to do with you what I please. You and Ms.-Goody-Two-Shoes." He said with a mocking smile, revealing crooked yellowing teeth.
Draco said nothing and instead took a seat next to Hermione. He sat with his elbows on the tops of his knees, interlocking his fingers and leaned forward as if waiting for Filch to continue.
"I think tonight I've arranged the perfect assignment." He said, still smiling. "The two of you will relieve the house-elves of their nightly duties and clean all of the dishes you dirty brats made from dinner." He smiled another time, but more of an evil leer as he held out his hand. "Without magic."
Hermione wasted no time in handing over her wand. Draco however, continue to sit as if he hadn't understood the instructions. "Hand over your wand boy, you've got to be done by midnight." Said Filch.
Draco slowly handed over his wand and followed Hermione through the door, cursing Filch under his breath. In her wake the familiar smell of fruit billowed behind her long wavy hair.
The kitchens were large. And on one long counter, seemingly endless stack of dishes piled high waiting for them.
Hermione sighed and pushed the sleeves on her robes up to the elbow and began to run the large sink full of water and detergent. Draco stood behind her and watched in disgust as Hermione began the laborious work.
Realizing she was alone Hermione looked over her shoulder at Draco. "This is so beneath me." He said looking at the mess in disdain.
"Well I suggest you help or else we'll be here all tonight and back tomorrow." Draco looked as if he weighed his options and followed Hermione by rolling up his sleeves as well.
Stepping up to the sink, Hermione handed him a wet plate. "Here you rinse and dry."
And Draco for the first time in his life began manual labor. Halfway through the job, Draco grabbed his hand and swore loudly.
"Fuck!"
"What is the matter with you?" Hermione said startled.
"Fuck, I cut my hand on that stupid knife. I need to go to the infirmary! We don't have wands!"
Grabbing a dry towel, Hermione grabbed his hand in the other. "Oh please you baby, give me your hand," She said. Hermione pulled Draco over to an empty sink and ran his hand under water.
Hermione gently dried his hand and inspected the wound closely. "Oh, it's no big deal," she mumbled and reached for a dry towel. Draco shocked at her actions stood quietly and watched as she softly dried the wound and wrapped it tightly in a small hand towel. "There that should keep it from bleeding until you're able to soak it in essence of Murtlap." She looked up and their eyes met briefly, until she released his hand and went back to work.
Not knowing what to say, Draco also walked back to the sink. The two of them worked in silence the rest of the night, but Draco periodically stole moments when she wasn't paying attention to stare at her.
He was confused. He should have been repulsed by her mere touch. But like the time they kissed, her skin had caused a very pleasant tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. He imagined a scene when he would be able to prolong the moment of of their touch, but he dare not act upon that fantasy.
Her voice abruptly cut into his thoughts. "We'll I'm off. Er, see you." And before Draco could register what she meant, she was out of the door.
In the dark quiet corridor, Draco lagged behind her, watching her long wavy hair from behind. He quickened his step, and with his long legs he caught up with her in no time.
"What do you want Malfoy?" She said, quickly. He said nothing for several seconds, and then she stopped and stared at him expecting him to talk. "What?"
"Why did you do that?" Was all he said.
"Do what?"
Draco held up his hand wrapped in the towel. She stared at his hand, "I-I, you were hurt. I don't know. Don't worry," she said defiantly, "it won't happen again."
She set off toward the Heads' Dorm, but Draco quickly caught her arm, swinging her back towards him with more force than intended. They stood momentarily pressed together in the hallway, when suddenly and unexpectedly, he kissed her.
Hermione tightly pressed her lips together. She was angry, how dare he degrade her in one breath and kiss her in the next! She roughly pushed away from him, but he still held her arm.
"What do you think you are doing?" She began angrily, but something in the way he looked at her, stopped her short. The last time she had seen his eyes so closely, they were filled with frustration and defeat. But tonight, were her eyes playing tricks on her?
They seemed to be clouded with lust. They were not cold unfeeling pebbles of steel, but mesmerizing silver swirls. Draco's face remained expressionless, but he slowly released his grip on Hermione's arm.
But she did not move. "You called me Mudblood." She said flatly.
"You insulted me and my family." He said calmly.
"Don't call me that again, Malfoy." She leaned down to pick up her bag that had fallen to the floor, as she stood Draco was upon her. As she backed away he moved forward, until once again she was backed against the cold wall of the corridor.
They were pressed to closely together. She could even feel the thud of his heart against her chest. Or was that her heart? Hermione's arms hung loosely at her sides as once again Draco leaned forward to kiss her.
She could sense the stiffness of his body which caused her to tense. But if possible Draco's tall frame moved even closer to Hermione. His thumb stroked the area next to her mouth, and his palm cupped her cheek.
He relaxed and his body loosened. He stepped on either side of her feet, and she was pinned cozily between the cold stone wall and Draco's warm body. His tongue flicked forward, begging for entrance to her mouth.
For the second time that term, Hermione felt Draco's velvety tongue lick her lips and slowly, she parted them. At some point, her toes seemed to barely touch the ground and she felt a gentle prod in her lower abdomen.
Hermione's eyes flew open. How long had they been this way? It seemed like hours, it very well could have been. And she felt her feet land flatly back on the floor.
Draco sensed Hermione sudden reaction. He stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair.
Hermione looked close to tears. "Oh, we can't do this. I can't believe, I just…we can't tell anyone." She said looking pleadingly into his eyes.
Draco nodded coolly. "Yeah, my house can't know I—well yeah tell no one. Not even Potty."
Hermione almost ran back to her bedroom. She was more confused about this that she had even been about any arithmancy problem. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. Still confused, Hermione went to bed…
Draco took his time getting to the common room. He couldn't believe how incredibly easy it was to fool that stupid girl. He winced as his Dark Mark seared painfully on his forearm. It had been burning all night. The Dark Lord was becoming impatient, and Draco was running out of ideas.
Draco stood in the Astronomy tower and continued to smile, pleased with his plan. He smirked in spite of the nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach. He licked his lips absentmindedly he tasted something agreeable, and quite reminiscent of Hermione. The plan was cruel, but he had no choice. Besides she was only a Mudblood.
The early morning dull, gray light was beginning creep along the grounds below the tower before Draco pulled himself from his thoughts and returned to his room.
He slept, but not peacefully as one should after executing a particularly difficult part of a plan. He was worried. Not about Narcissa, just now, but he had somehow allowed himself to develop—something favorable for the Mudblood. And he knew it would mean troubled times ahead.
HOW DID YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER? PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. FOR SOME REASON, I WROTE IT FAST, BUT IT WAS A LITTLE HARD TO WRITE…. OH WELL. I DON'T FEEL SORRY FOR DRACO, HE'LL FIGURE IT ALL OUT I'M SURE….MAYBE.
