"Barry. Where's Barry." - Chris, Resident Evil

*

Hermione and Draco exchanged twin looks of dread. "Whatever that sound is, it's definitely coming form the ceiling," Hermione said.

Draco nodded. "That makes sense, since we can see the floor, and it's not coming from there."

"We should probably look up."

"Probably."

They didn't move.

"Draco," Hermione hissed, "Look on the ceiling."

"Not unless you do."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, this is ludicrous." Hermione glanced up, and just as quickly, her head shot down again. She swallowed.

"Well?" Draco asked expectantly.

"There's something up there."

"I deducted that. What is it?"

"I have no idea. I've never seen anything like it. It's. just look yourself, Malfoy." Hermione shuddered.

Draco looked at her suspiciously. "Fine," he said, and looked at the ceiling. A pause, and then: "Fuck!"

"You could put it that way, I suppose." Hermione was backing up, eyes trained on the ceiling.

The creature that was crawling towards them wasn't recognizably, human, though it did have a vague humanoid shape. It was horrible, red and veiny. Its tongue was lashing out at them, and Hermione barely missed being hit.

She ran to the opposite end of the hall, not bothering to see if Draco was following her. She reached a dead end, and backed against the wall. It wasn't the smartest of plans; she was now cornered.

"Hermione!" yelled Draco, and she looked up to see that the. thing had followed her.

She raised her gun and shot it, hitting its head. It kept coming. She shot again, this time missing the head, but hitting it square in the chest. The creature slowed a little, but still advanced, its unnaturally long tongue snaking menacingly towards Hermione.

From behind her, she could hear Draco shooting. Whether or not he was hitting the. licker, she couldn't tell. It would move several paces closer to her, turn its head and lick, pause, and then repeat the movements.

"Draco!" she cried, "Are there any more of those things in here?"

"I only see the one. I think it's more than enough."

Hermione dropped her gun. Obviously, it wasn't going to do much good, and she didn't have time to reload, much less the bullets. Wand in hand, she cast "Stupefy!" on the licker, but again, got no result.

"Petrificus Totallus!"

Nothing.

"Avada Kadavra!"

"Hey!" That was Draco. "What where you're pointing the unforgiveables!"

"Sorry!" she choked. "I'm getting desperate!"

The licker was practically upon her now, and Hermione's wand hand was shaking too much to be of use in casting any spell, much less the one she'd been casting. Her state of mind was too jumbled as well, magic never worked as well if the caster wasn't sure of herself. Hermione's usual confidence was one of her greatest assets, but that, along with most of her courage seemed to have fled when she first set eyes on the thing which was now dripping some kind of fluid on her shoes.

Draco took another shot at the licker, hitting it.

Unfortunately, this had the effect of causing the thing to fall from the ceiling and onto Hermione.

She screamed, jabbing her wand in its belly.

It retaliated by lashing its tongue at her, leaving a nasty, gaping wound on her arm.

"Draco! Shoot it again!"

"I'm trying! I think I'm out of bullets!" He waved the gun in the air, as if demonstrating its uselessness.

Hermione braced herself against the wall with her arms, and, in a move that was perhaps unwise, jumped and kicked the thing with both feet.

She landed hard on the ground - seems to becoming a habit, she thought hysterically - one leg atop the other. The licker didn't appear to have been harmed, but she'd at least stunned the thing, and thrown it back several feet, in addition.

It hissed at her, clearly intent on payback.

Not very enthusiastic at the prospect of hand to hand combat with something that was more likely to use its tongue than actual hands, Hermione struggled to right herself, trying very much not to notice the pain in her bum where she'd fallen, or the sting of the gash on her arm.

Draco had given up on the gun, and was now casting different curses, none of which seemed to be taking.

"It's not going to work, Draco! Try something else." Hermione kicked the thing again, this time hitting its head. It hissed in pain, and shot its tongue at her.

She sidestepped, narrowly missing a gash on her leg to match the one on her arm. When she'd found her balance again, Hermione jabbed the licker, using her wand as a dagger. Unfortunately, the wand was much more useful a wand than a combat weapon, and bounced off the creature's tough flesh. Though she hesitated in calling it flesh.

With her wand gone, Hermione was not helpless, save her kicks, which seemed to be of no use. She'd managed to duck the licker's tongue twice, but it had gotten her again, this time stinging her side.

She was convinced she was going to die. Where Draco had gone, she had no idea.

Screwing her eyes shut, and working up one last bit of courage, Hermione again kicked at the licker, only to have her foot meet thin air. Confused, the changed directions and kicked again, but again came up empty.

She opened her eyes.

Draco was standing behind the licker, hands wrapped around its neck. There was blood on his cheek; he must have been hit.

As Hermione watched, Draco's muscles contracted, and he twisted the thing's neck. He dropped it to the floor, lifeless.

She blinked at him. "How did you. That was very. My god, Malfoy, you should be dead now."

"You're welcome," he said.

"I'm sorry. Thank you." She sagged to the floor. "Come here, let me see your face."

"It's nothing," he said, but moved to sit beside her anyway.

"Turn your face," she commanded.

He'd been telling the truth; the cut was relatively benign. There was a fair amount of blood, but it seemed to already be clotting. It wasn't a deep cut. She traced the edges gently with her fingertip, realizing that Draco had very nice skin.

Stop it! she commanded herself. Noticing Draco's skin is not something you should be doing now. Survival is much more important than soft cheeks.

But oh, they were nice.

Then he had to ruin the moment by talking.

"Granger," he said roughly, "If you're done fondling me now, I think I should take a look at your arm."

Hermione drew her hand back, and pushed her sleeve up her arm, trying not to look at Draco as she felt her cheeks grow hot.

"I don't think it's very deep. At least, I won't bleed to death."

He took her arm in his hands, and she was very grateful that he made to reference to her blush.

"You're still bleeding."

"Well, yes, I guess I am." Hermione looked at her arm. It wasn't gushing blood, by any stretch of the imagination, but it did sting, and was still bleeding, a little.

"Close your eyes," said Draco.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

For some unknown reason, she listened to him. He said something then, under his breath, and she couldn't hear it. It must have been a spell, though, because as soon as the words drifted from her ears, she felt a tingling in her arm.

When she opened her eyes, the wound had closed.

"How did you do that?" she asked, genuinely intrigued.

He grinned cockily. "That," he said, "is a secret."

"No really, I want to know. Tell me."

"Are you always like this? It's amazing you have any friends, even if they're Potter and Weasley."

"Don't change the subject. I want to know what spell you used on me." Hermione rubbed her arm, feeling the newly healed tissue under the blood.

Draco shrugged. "It's just something I picked up."

"Where?" she demanded.

He gave her look of absolute exasperation. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

Her eyes got big. "Is that. was that Dark Magic? Draco, I don't know if."

He cut her off by placing his fingers over her lips. She wouldn't have been more surprised if he'd kissed her. And then, he was kissing her.

Gently, he moved his lips over hers, barely moving them, breathing into her shocked and open mouth. When had his hand tangled itself in her hair? When had her eyes closed? When had she stopped breathing?

He was speaking against her mouth, but giving no voice to the words. Perhaps he was telling her the secret of the spell he'd just cast, or maybe she was still under its influence. In any case, it didn't matter. She liked the feel of his flesh on hers. She began to kiss him back.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He pulled back, leaving her wide-eyed and speechless.

"What," she said when she'd regained higher brain functions, "Was that for?"