Ready for my unicorn? ;D
Walking alongside Draco was not the most subtle and unnoticeable thing that she had done. Counting that she kind of broke into a bank and was a famous war heroine, yes, all those happened and drawn attention, but she felt like she had more eyes on her at the moment than when the war was officially over and they were loitering in the Great Hall.
The judging, thunderous and jealous stares that protruded in her back with their intensity made it hard to concentrate on the road straight ahead and don't answer the people behind them with an equally vicious curse. It was maddening that she couldn't do a thing against it.
Her grip on the bucket tightened.
Oh yes, marching through Hogwarts grounds with a ton of carrots, sugar cubes and apples, was not one of the most subtle thing she had ever done, either.
She rolled her eyes – they must have looked ridiculous.
Draco decided that he was up to round two with the unicorns and now, they were prepared enough – thus, the succeeding was destined. He barged into the Gryffindor common room at six – yes, it was Saturday –, with all his equipment in hand and freshly delivered by the Malfoy owls. Narcissa decided that she would help them out with everything she could, and wrote a twenty-three-page long letter about unicorns, their supper and the effect of those on their bodies – the same with common horses, but she was grateful for all the information! – their methods of communication and general behaviour.
Also, if they were pissed, they are bitching – was the exact sentence Narcissa wrote.
Hermione didn't question it. Not for the passing moment. Nor did Draco.
Eyeing her companion from the side, she tutted awkwardly. He was ignorant to the world, not caring about the fifty-ish pair of eyes following every of their movement as they strolled forward. The tenseness in his shoulders was probably the only sign that said otherwise.
Hermione couldn't resist her habit – she nibbled on her lower lip as she yet again squeezed on the bucket, irritated at the ticklish feeling climbing in her pores. Her muscles were aching the entire time they got to the grounds from the tower, but now, she couldn't change hands. She couldn't even fist her left hand. It was numb and nearly unfeeling because of the Essence of Spurius.
They needed the unicorn blood. Fast.
But she didn't dare mention that Draco – he would figure it out eventually. And dropping that bomb in the middle of playful and light bickering would be simply distasteful. They didn't talk about the demons they encountered in their dreams, the nights when she saw Bellatrix looming over her with her beloved knife glinting in the light or when he suffered from his nightmares (which he dreamt with his eyes open) – not even about his Mark since he got back the fixed flask, and definitely not about the numerous scars pebbling her skin or the Mudblood scar for that matter.
They just mentioned the potion as if that would be a mere school project and they were partners just because Slughorn decided to play house-uniting.
She grimaced – the moment, this might have not been that far from reality. They were comfortable enough in each other's presence, she, one time, even used him as a breathing pillow while he was reading some silly novel, but darker topics that suggested something was evidently not right with or in their lives were like... prohibited.
The silence was calming, but she felt, knew a storm was brewing.
Since she had seen the scar on his back, Draco shut her out. Even if unintentionally – but she really doubted that option –, he was careful, avoiding giving her the answers whenever she played a ploy to get them. He was not a Slytherin for nothing.
It worried her.
Maybe that was why she sought out Theo, Blaise and Pansy.
At first, they looked at her like she had gone mad; it was impossible for Narcissa to do such thing – Pansy answered rigidly, obviously concerned and surprised as she hadn't probably heard of that while Blaise and Theo laughed themselves to near fatigue, clutching on the other's clothes not to fall over. It was that kind of impossible.
The air whistled when she sucked it through her teeth.
"Depressing yourself much?" asked the plain voice from near her and she nearly jumped. Even though her thoughts rotated around Draco, she forgot he was even there, strolling by her side so certain and confident, as if the he was without problems.
"Nah," she sighed and licked her lips from side to side; it was annoying how they got dry even if the wind blew with minimal efficiency and she was outside for like ten minutes.
However, she couldn't help noticing how his eyes followed her tongue and after that, as he dampened his own, pale pink and slit-narrow lips.
"Was just thinking," she replied tightly in the end, just to supply him with something. Their rigid and uptight silence was also annoying.
"Who thought?" he mocked with sarcasm, but not with the biting and the bitter edge – the easy and comfortable one, with no malice involved. It caused her pulse to jerk, hearing his deep, rumbling voice. It was nice.
Suddenly breaking off, she realized they were now in the Forbidden Forest, definitely not deep enough for any harm that could cross their path, but deep enough to get to their ulterior goal: unicorn blood, or at first, got to hunting.
Dropping the heavy bucket on the soil, very ungracefully, she turned to him, "So what? We just start shouting Estrella to the woods? Or do you have any other ideas?"
Draco nodded, putting down his burdens with more care, organising its position, lest the perfectly clear water or the herbs topple over the bucket's edge, "Nah, no other."
He put a blanket on the floor that he had nicked from the Gryffindor tower and invited her over that. It was good to show grace to the unicorns – according to Narcissa – if they thought you are vulnerable and little, they would come closer. But still – they needed to trust those who lure them out of their hiding places.
She draped one unused corner of the vast blanket on her legs before starting calling for the magical creatures. They took turns and waited one minute between the shouts, looking around in alarm for any sign of the foals.
The minutes ticked by and eventually turned hours of hollow nothingness, Draco's dabbing with his fingers softened and he lost rhythm, the silence burning their eardrums and the desperation started showing in their calls – her voice went rusty by the third hour and her blonde companion started panicking, got irritated and started mumbling under his breath during the minute-long breaks, cursing all kinds of magical creatures in a wide scale of profanity with all his might.
If the disappointment weren't enough, the cold topped over the things they needed to endure, with their breathing starting to show in the November air, the quiet clicking as their teeth met, or that they couldn't even feel their fingers by now – at least Hermione now felt balanced out. Both her hands were useless.
Little by little, they scooted closer to each other, imperceptibly, at fist just their thighs rubbing against each other, desperate for warming friction, than their midriff and hands tangled together and soon, Hermione was very nearly sitting in Draco's lap with obvious embarrassment but definitely not with discomfort.
"Are they even coming?" she exhaled through gritted teeth, looking up in his face. She just now realized how he fitted to the weather, bone-crackingly cold and pale in colours, but even he seemed to start giving up. On second thought, he looked like a Greek statue made of marble, pure and stoic, with aristocratic features.
Draco nodded to her and called out once more, strained and quavering, as if even his vocal chords started freezing, too.
No answer came, no legs drumming against the muddy earth, no gleeful nickering from the unicorns, no sign of them being even real. She started doubting all those books she went through, Narcissa's words, and the opportunity to survive her poisoning.
"Draco, I think—," just as that, her hazel eyes comically widened and her jaw went ajar, her dried lips enticing and just a second and Draco would have gone for it and abandoned all his protests, if not for her trembling right hand lifting up and pointing at something behind him. "Look at that," she whispered as if it was a secret, not to be heard by others.
But before he could have looked, he felt something sticky and disgusting twist around a good chunk of his beloved hair and tugged, hard. He yelped, nearly dropping Hermione in panic as he twisted in his seat, facing the fatal threat.
His degrading words died on his lips as he looked up at the unicorn, munching on his locks. It was something – he decided, and didn't throw a tantrum after a bit of complementing, but rather, tried to hush away the young unicorn with little success.
"Damn it," he grumbled and leaned away.
The dumb horse nickered in disappointment combined with irritation at the loss of his chewtoy, effectively spitting Draco in the face with that.
Hermione giggled from near him as he scowled, rubbing the disgusting saliva in the blanket, with a dark stare, accusing her of betrayal, "I don't understand. They should relish the virgins and women, not tainted and men," he grumbled and yet again, the unicorn was in his face, looking at him with interest, seemingly invading his soul with those enormous, baby blue eyes.
However, the fucking horrifying horn had nearly pricked out Draco's left eye, but seemingly nobody cared about that.
Hermione scooted closer, reaching good arm out in fascination as the single foal started sniffing it. With a slight jerk, she turned her head and all her attention was back on the lying form of the grumbling Malfoy heir.
Even from one glance, he knew she was disappointed, "Pity it didn't think you hair would be a sufficient enough for breakfast. Now I need to wash it, again. Or at least didn't think you the better—"
Hermione shot him a brooding, unhappy look, "Because all those carrots got her attention," she growled, spouted with sarcasm.
"Hey, you couldn't help on the stupid thing," he called out playfully, and just like that, the unicorn stepped forward.
Straight onto Draco's torso.
Amusement glinted in her eyes as she put more pressure on her leg, making Draco gag, curse and experience so much pain by that hateful golden hoof. His hand squeezed around the magnificent, snow-white leg, not even realizing that he was touching the animal. It didn't flinch away, letting him to try to remove her limb in a desperate and unsuccessful attempt.
"I think you pissed her off," Hermione supplied, still a little crestfallen by the unicorn's disapproval of her. Draco was an arsehole to her and she still let him close to her.
Hermione tutted. The horse must have had a knack for bad boys.
Draco struggled for breath, "Dontcha' say," he managed the buzzing irony even if his guts threatened to jumble together by the plus weight pressuring them. "Repel the degraded thing with your touch, woman!"
She rolled her eyes, not even being careful as she climbed over Draco's chest to hush away the magnificent creature that sure as hell wouldn't want to do a thing with her. It just added one more thing to the list why she hated this day.
The unicorn side-stepped, avoiding her itching fingers and nickering yet again, showing of the glimmering horn arrogantly, like it was rubbing it in her face, that she was the more powerful party between the two.
"She hates me," she sighed with a mirthless tone, but it also contained a wistful edge, whishing if only she didn't. Draco scowled at the horse general direction, irritated that he was overpowered that easily, measuring up the robust build of the creature and intensively rolling his eyes at her hopes.
And she still was a foal. Figured.
Granger was hugging her knees to her chest, nibbling on her lip and watching forward, compartmentalizing the strange case, the reaction of the creature. She made a list in her head, and in the end, it was clear that it should have hated Draco – not her! He was generally unpleasant that radiated from him in waves, definitely not a virgin, had a knack for the dark side of magic and he had the frigging Dark Mark embedded in his skin!
And still – the damned unicorn behaved, like Draco was everything to her, and she was... well, not for her standard.
"Should we try?" she asked absently, eyeing the creature warily as it sent a dubious look at their direction while fishing a carrot out of the bucket. As if she knew it was for her.
Draco shrugged, "I'm not sure. Solana doesn't like you and I'm not friendly enough with her. Yet," he drawled slowly and as if understanding the words, the unicorn's point ears twitched.
He hated the thought that he needed to come back – because otherwise, there would be no blood for the potion. It would just mean more wasting of the time they had little of. He pressed his lips to a thin line as he subtly glanced down on Hermione's left hand – she didn't use that in a while.
"How do you know her name?" Hermione asked before he could have asked how was her hand functioning, as Solana got the third or so carrots, nibbling on them with glee.
"She told me," he answered swiftly, his arms resting on his knees, looking in the gloomy woods that started darkening. It meant it was already afternoon. He put his questions away for later on – just something normal, for this few more weeks, he wished! "Mother was right. Unicorns are Legilimens. She showed me a picture of the sun and I just...," he trailed off, his eyes seeking for hers as if asking her to confirm he hadn't gone bonkers, before saying the words, "I just knew it."
Hermione nodded, carefully and meekly, "That's good. But...," she looked at the creature, warily, her teeth yet again on her lip, "where is the other one? Your mother said there were foals. In plural."
Unable to answer, he shook his head, and suddenly, they quieted down with the woods.
I wanted to put it up yesterday, but fever had a bigger say in things I was (not) doing. Hope you enjoyed Solana! ;D