A/N- Jeez, after re-reading my author's note and summary for the last chapter, I found it to be a little harsh! Sorry about that! Don't really know where it came from. So, this is the last part of the story. Don't try and wriggle another chapter out of me... okay you can try... because if you try hard enough, it just might happen. There, now I've jinxed it, moo-ha-ha. I was going to wait to update until I got more reviews, but I was too anxious!
Disclaimer- Nope! Don't own a thing!
Summary- In the second installment: Hermione decides to catch up on some much deserved rest, but lets just say it won't be uneventful. Little Dramione at the end!
Jackknifed
The next day found Hermione with no more sleep and no less work.
It had started raining after yesterday when Hermione had left the nearly deserted classroom, clutching her slit finger.
Today, the rain fit perfectly with her mood. As she glanced down at her hand she grimaced. All those hours looking up potions, the parchment had continually caught on the cut, now her finger was red and slightly swollen.
Heaving a sigh, she felt the weight of her books fully rest upon her shoulders. Truly, she needed her rest. Pulling all-nighters was not a way to spend one's education. Hermione had to take a little nap, even if it was just through lunch.
Peering around, Hermione walked slowly over to a locked classroom. She pulled out her wand. "Allohamora." She murmured absently, and the lock clicked open.
Entering the room, Hermione nearly groaned with the luck of it. Sprawled out on his back upon an empty table was Malfoy, hands on his chest, staring up at the ceiling.
"So this is what you do? Just continually skip class?" Her voice, cold, didn't stir him.
That's when she realized...
He was sleeping.
Cautiously, Hermione walked over to a desk situated near the long table and sat down, dropping her bad next to the seat.
She was nearly eyelevel with him now. She watched the way Malfoy's chest rose and fell, the way he looked so un-evil, sleeping. She noticed, with a hint of amusement, a tiny blue bandage covering his palm, tied in a careful knot over his pale skin. A small stain of dried blood was visible on the cloth, as if it had bled just a little on the gauze before ebbing.
Looking down she noted the raw, redness of her own cut, un-bandaged and un-cared for.
With a sigh she rested her chin on her hands. Her heavy eyes glanced up every so often at the Slytherine on the table. One hand rested behind his silver-blonde hair, the other on his chest. In the back of her mind Hermione knew he was still dangerous.
I have to go. She thought. I can't stay here...if he wakes...
But she was sleep before she could finish her own sentence.
o.o.o.o
Hermione found herself looking down a long, dark hallway in her dreams. It was a tunnel that stretched on and on.
She wasn't alone.
Mere paces in front of her stood Malfoy, arms hanging limply by his sides, looking down and away to his right.
It was almost as if he didn't notice her, yet, Hermione was screaming at him, yelling at the top of her lungs, but she heard no sound. It was if someone's hands were pressed over her ears so tightly it made her eardrums ache, her temples pound.
Some unknown light flickered down upon the pair, glinting over Malfoy's skin, his hair creating a small ironic halo of silver.
Slowly, as if water was rushing into an open window, sound trickled back to Hermione. The pressure was pulled away from her like a vacuum, the noise now so loud to contrast the silence, it made a staggering whooshing sound. Now she could hear her own voice.
"Would it matter, Draco?" She was yelling at him, hands balled into fists. "Would it matter if my blood spilled and it turned out to be just as red as yours!? If you weren't so pure! If I wasn't so dirty! Would it matter?!"
Although these words spilled from her lips, Hermione felt bewildered at her self. What was she talking about? Why was she screaming so? Why did her heart seemingly burn inside of her chest?
In the blink of an eye Malfoy was in front of her. Hermione didn't know if she had rushed forward or if he had, but he stood there, still casting his gaze away. She hadn't seen him move.
Hermione's mouth hung slack open, her lungs full with more scathing words but she fell silent. She nearly took a step back but stopped herself when Malfoy moved suddenly. His shoulders, higher then hers, shifted and his head tilted towards her.
With dull grey eyes he watched her and pulled his hand up. That motion alone closed the gap between them, that's was how close he was. Glancing down, Hermione winced away from him.
The cut on his left hand was no longer bandaged; it dripped crimson down his pale hand, wrist, and arm before tumbling into oblivion at his feet.
With a tiny prickling feeling, Hermione rubbed her right arm gingerly. Malfoy glanced down at her and his eyes widened, become less dead. They glittered with- well, Hermione could tell it wasn't malice but she definitely couldn't place it.
Tenderly she lifted her hand up too, as if dazed. Out of the knick in her finger her blood dripped red. Her brow furrowed and she looked at Malfoy in surprise.
His hand now was smeared with inky blackness, dripping slowly, like... like mud.
Mudblood. Hermione whispered in her mind. Yet, how was it that her blood was red and his was not?
In a swift motion Malfoy grabbed her shimmering hand with his dark one. Pressing the cuts together. Hermione recollected how their blood had mingled on the knife, how they had mingled on Draco's lips.
It stung, their blood touching, yet it subsided as his started to run red again.
"Strange."
Hermione's head snapped up to look up at Malfoy. It was the first words he had murmured during this whole episode.
"What's strange?" Hermione was reluctant to ask.
"Your's tasted like mahogany."
Hermione took a step back, her hand still locked with his.
"Malfoy?" She looked at him and he started to dissolve, dripping into the darkness. "Draco!" She lunged forward.
o.o.o.o
"Draco!" Hermione lurched out of sleep, her folded arms jerking oddly upon the desk. With a start she sat up in the chair, her back aching with the hunched position she had been sleeping in.
The dream slowly sifted out of her mind, like sand through her loosely clutched fingers.
As her vision became less blurred from sleep, she recoiled. Malfoy, his legs slung over the table in front of her desk, was staring at her, his hands clutching the wood on either side of him, his body pitched forward towards her.
"Oh. My. God." Hermione turned scarlet and scooted back in her chair. "Malfoy, what are you doing?!"
He seemed to snap out of his trance. He ran a hand through his hair.
"What, Granger?"
Hermione eyed him strangely. "You we're watching me."
"I was actually pondering the many ways I could kill you in your sleep." He looked away from her finally and laid back down upon the table, hands under his head, legs still hanging off the side.
Hermione, still shaken, relaxed a little in the desk. At least he wasn't pointing his wand at her... yet.
"What time is it?"
Malfoy shrugged. "I'd say you've been out for an hour, Granger."
A dreadful feeling washed over Hermione. "I missed History of Magic."
Malfoy shrugged, staring up at the ceiling.
"Do you always just skyte off class in order to catch up on your beauty sleep?" Hermione meant this as an insult but it came out only jokingly.
Malfoy smirked. "You should talk, Granger, yesterday you looked like you could fall asleep standing up." Hermione ignored this.
"Well, I'm going to Potions. It's probably best you go too." Hermione slid out of the desk and bent, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She felt positively rested.
"Snape doesn't care; he favors me, after all."
"Sure, Malfoy." Hermione heaved a sigh and strode to the door. As she opened it, slowly, she realized he hadn't called her 'mudblood' through the whole conversation. Eyebrows raised she turned her head slightly, Malfoy's back to her.
"Ma-Draco?" She ventured, hoping to emit confidence in her voice.
"What now, Granger?" He called, sounding more annoyed, voice icy.
"Do you know what mahogany tastes like?" Hermione felt foolish, heat rising in her cheeks.
Malfoy turned his head to her, his lips lightly parted, a look of heated shock flickered across his features.
"What?" He asked in a soft, rushing breath.
"Nothing." Hermione said quickly, stepping out into the hall and pulling the door shut with a particularly loud thump.
As she walked down the corridor, Hermione held a bit of apprehension between her shoulders. All the way to Potions she kept thinking Malfoy would be following her, demanding why she had asked such a strange question.
She arrived right before the previous class was finished.
I guess I'll just wait then. She sighed, leaning against the wall next to the door. As she pulled out her Potions book she felt something against her finger slide along the book's leather cover.
Turning her hand over, she noticed something wrapped around her slit finger. A small blue bandage was tied in a neat little knot around the cut. A droplet of dried blood, certainly not Hermione's, was embedded within the cloth.
A small, confused smile twitched over Hermione's lips.
Perhaps Draco hadn't merely been watching her sleep.
Fin
So, I just had to get that out of my system. I've had all these pent up Dramione feelings for the past…month. I don't think there will be any more to this story, I just kind of wanted a short little drabble. But! I'm one of those authors that comes back randomly after a month and updates, sooooo, check back, because you never know!
If you review, I'll give you a cookie!!!