Hermione ran a brush through her hair, which was still wet after her
shower. Pulling at a knot, she winced and bit down on her bottom lip. After
pulling on a new set of robes, Hermione left the dorm. As she stepped out
of the common room and pulled the painting of the Fat Lady shut, strong
hands grasped her from behind and pulled her into a corner. Spinning around
to face her assailant, Hermione gasped, finding herself looking into a pair
of familiar steel blue eyes.
"Draco!" She hissed, "What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Kidnapping you." Draco whispered, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"But we'll miss dinner. And your house-master doesn't exactly get any joy from seeing you with me."
"What Snape doesn't know won't hurt him." Draco smirked, his arm still around Hermione's waist. "And don't worry, I won't starve you." Keeping an eye out to make sure no-one saw them, Draco lead Hermione deeper into the castle until they reached a corridor Hermione had never seen before.
"Slightly forbidden of course." Draco explained, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Come on, almost there."
They soon arrived at their destination, a small room with not very much in it, although, Hermione noted, it was extremely luxurious. The walls were covered in silk tapestries, and the floor in a deep plum-rose carper. Candles flickered around the room from their metal stand. In the middle of the room, there was a small loveseat covered in red velvet, and on a small glass table nearby was a platter of food. they sat down together for a few moments in silence. As Hermione's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that one wall was covered entirely with rows and rows of books.
"Everything from Shakespeare to Keats" came Draco's soft voice.
*
"Draco..." Hermione murmured sleepily into his shoulder, "What time is it?" They'd been reading a book of Shakespeare's sonnets together when they soft candle-light had finally lulled them to sleep. Hermione had woken to find her head resting on Draco's shoulder and her arm draped loosely around him. She'd been alarmed to say the least. What in Merlin's name was she doing in a room by herself with Malfoy? But then it had all come back to her. As she watched Draco sleep peacefully, Hermione thought about the hours they had spent reading poetry book after book. The real Draco had come out from under the vicious, nasty personality of the boy she'd known as Draco Malfoy a week ago. Coming back to the present, Hermione rubbed her sleep eyes.
"Draco," She said gently, "Draco we have to get up."
"But 'tis not yet day." He mumbled, snuggled into the couch.
Hermione smiled. Even half-awake, Draco managed to use Shakespearian quotes.
"It is, it is."
Before Draco could respond, the door burst open, and in came a familiar figure with fiery red hair...
"Draco!" She hissed, "What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Kidnapping you." Draco whispered, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"But we'll miss dinner. And your house-master doesn't exactly get any joy from seeing you with me."
"What Snape doesn't know won't hurt him." Draco smirked, his arm still around Hermione's waist. "And don't worry, I won't starve you." Keeping an eye out to make sure no-one saw them, Draco lead Hermione deeper into the castle until they reached a corridor Hermione had never seen before.
"Slightly forbidden of course." Draco explained, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Come on, almost there."
They soon arrived at their destination, a small room with not very much in it, although, Hermione noted, it was extremely luxurious. The walls were covered in silk tapestries, and the floor in a deep plum-rose carper. Candles flickered around the room from their metal stand. In the middle of the room, there was a small loveseat covered in red velvet, and on a small glass table nearby was a platter of food. they sat down together for a few moments in silence. As Hermione's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that one wall was covered entirely with rows and rows of books.
"Everything from Shakespeare to Keats" came Draco's soft voice.
*
"Draco..." Hermione murmured sleepily into his shoulder, "What time is it?" They'd been reading a book of Shakespeare's sonnets together when they soft candle-light had finally lulled them to sleep. Hermione had woken to find her head resting on Draco's shoulder and her arm draped loosely around him. She'd been alarmed to say the least. What in Merlin's name was she doing in a room by herself with Malfoy? But then it had all come back to her. As she watched Draco sleep peacefully, Hermione thought about the hours they had spent reading poetry book after book. The real Draco had come out from under the vicious, nasty personality of the boy she'd known as Draco Malfoy a week ago. Coming back to the present, Hermione rubbed her sleep eyes.
"Draco," She said gently, "Draco we have to get up."
"But 'tis not yet day." He mumbled, snuggled into the couch.
Hermione smiled. Even half-awake, Draco managed to use Shakespearian quotes.
"It is, it is."
Before Draco could respond, the door burst open, and in came a familiar figure with fiery red hair...