Hermione shivered, and pulled her robes closer about her. If she had thought the dungeons were cold during the day, then clearly she hadn't been down there late at night. Which she currently was. How she had gotten down there, and lost herself so late she couldn't remember. The last clear memory she had was of sitting in the warm Gryffindor common room, and working on Professor Sprout's essay on Ancient Magical Maladies (two feet five inches, due Friday), and then getting up to stretch her legs. Of course, she remembered wandering in the halls and then hearing a scream. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from the library, and could only come from a book in the restricted section, sounding the alarm. Next she remembered the sound of clattering feet, and she had taken off and not watched where she was running. Hermione's only thought was to escape Filch, who was surely after the library culprit. And that was how she had found herself in the dungeons, disoriented and lost among the identical stone corridors.
Shivering again, she came to another crossroads, having the choice to go left, right, or straight on. She looked suspiciously at the floor and walls as to a clue of her whereabouts ('Didn't I just turn right here ten minutes ago?'), but found none. A cold draft from the left helped her make the decision, as it brought forth a rattly laugh from the depths of the castle. None too eager to find out who it was, she clutched her robes tighter around her, and scurried forward.
But another five minutes found her still lost beneath Hogwarts, and hoping that Filch or Mrs.Norris wouldn't show up. To think, Hermione Granger, prize academic student of Gryffindor being caught out of bed and in the dungeons! Snape would be beside himself with glee!
The annoying eerie plop, plop, plop, of water reverberated down the hallway as she trudged on. Her heavily lidded eyes drooped as she yawned, thinking longing of her bed back up in the tower. Hermione was so wrapped up in her thoughts and frozen misery that she didn't look when turning around a corner, bumping into...
"Draco Malfoy!" She jerked her head up after colliding with the blond. Hastily he shoved a small book into his robes, but not before Hermione saw the cover, and glared, her surprise forgotten. He didn't fail to notice the direction of her gaze, his features turning from confusion to annoyance then settling into the familiar smirk.
"Well if it isn't Granger. Why out of bed so early muffin? Are Potter and Weasley out causing trouble again?" Malfoy seemed unnaturally chipper, Hermione noticed and she returned his smirk with another glare.
"I don't see why you should care Malfoy. After all, are you not also out of bed? And is that not a book from the restricted section?" She returned, rather coldly, pulling her robes closer. Honestly, how can these Slytherins stand these drafty dungeons? It's a wonder they're never sick...
"I have an excuse." He said haughtily, looking down his pale nose at her. He was at least five inches taller than she. "Not that it matters to you, mudblood." He snarled, his thin face contorting in anger. Hermione's temper flared at the insult. "Which I'll bet you don't. Professor Snape would be quite eager to hear your excuses, I'm sure." Malfoy's patented sneer appeared again, leering out at her from the shadows. Hermione glanced at him where he stood and watched her, arms crossed, triumphant in his chance to get a Gryffindor in trouble.
"Oh, and I'm sure Professor McGonagall would enjoy hearing yours then. And perhaps hearing why you have a stolen book?" She shot back, annoyed. Malfoy's expression turned rather sulky then, having a healthy respect of McGonagall as most students did. They eyed each other then - Draco Malfoy the Slytherin prince, and Hermione Granger the Gryffindor brain, and didn't say a word, both calculating their next move, as if they were playing Wizard's chess. Malfoy moved first.
"So I suppose we're both in a fix then, eh... Hermione?" He drawled, relaxing, and took a step towards her. Hermione, startled at hearing her first name, took an involuntary step back, not trusting the lazy smile on her enemy's face.
"I suppose... Draco." She replied, bumping into the icy stone wall. His eyes flickered in amusement, as he bushed a lock of hair off of his forehead. Stepping forward again, he placed both hands on the stones beside Hermione's head, and leaned in until they were nearly nose-to-nose.
"Well then..." He breathed, his eyes matching the smirk on his lips. "We'll just have to make ourselves a deal then, won't we?" As she spoke, his right hand moved to lazily trace down Hermione's jaw line, sending a riot of sparks through her body.
First she had been wary of Draco, then slightly frightened. But now...? She watched in fascination as his fingertips grazed her lip, warmth springing back into her cold body at his touch. No! She told herself, You can't act like this! Not for Draco Malfoy!
But she had fallen under the spell of the grey-eyed boy.
"So how about... We go our separate ways, and forget this little incident? Hmm?" The pale hand dipped lower and lower, tracing across her exposed collarbone. Everywhere he touched was like wildfire. Hermione's skin burned under his caress, a desire she had rarely felt surfacing from deep inside her. Was it need? The need for love? She didn't know. A few hurried kisses with Viktor hadn't ignited any more passion than kissing her pillow would. So was this love? Lust? She couldn't tell through the drunken haze his touch was creating.
"Hmmm? So do we have a deal?" Draco's voice dropped to a deep purr near her left ear, and she shivered. Make a deal with a Malfoy? He had been stealing a book from the restricted section... That wasn't allowed, Madam Pince would have a fit, not to mention the trouble I could get him in...
A soft sigh of surprise escaped her then, as a cold pair of lips fluttered briefly on her neck. Her mind took an abrupt about face at that moment, before Draco's lips descended upon her neck again. Turn him in? I should... But maybe just this once... It's late, I need to get to bed... And it's only a small book, it won't be missed... The hand at her collarbone moved up and curled slightly around her neck, the lips still lightly pressing at her expose skin. What was he doing to her? She couldn't think straight!
"Deal." Hermione breathed, as Draco's lips began to ascend. He moved back at her words, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. His hands fell back to his sides, and Hermione couldn't help but sigh at the loss of touch. That only encouraged Draco's smirk. He stepped away from her, and Hermione nearly moved forward to feel his warmth again, stopping herself when she realized what she was doing.
"Pleasure doing business with you... Granger. Perhaps we'll find the need for a business... arrangement in the future?" He raised his eyebrow suggestively, his tone implying other things. Recovering her modesty at that moment, Hermione flushed, embarassed, and for once was glad that the dungeons were dark. Suddenly it felt much colder down there...
"Perhaps... Malfoy." She replied, in a small nervous voice. Draco obviously found that amusing, as he let out a short laugh. Then just as he stopped, and began to lean into her again, he paused, and they both heard someone.
"I can hear the sound of students out of bed my sweet. Maybe it is our little thief, eh?" A hollow cackling laugh floated down the hall towards them, the voice unmistakably Filch. The pair shared one worried glance in which their eyes met, before it turned back to the usual glare and smirk. Malfoy leaned back.
"Well, as I'm carrying a special load," He patted his pocket, "I'll be off." With one last triumphant smirk, Malfoy turned, and disappeared, leaving a shocked Hermione standing in the hall.
What just happened? She gaped at the corner that Draco had just swept around. One minute they had been in a rather... torrid embrace for a Gryffindor and Slytherin, and now Draco was gone. Malfoy, She corrected herself. He's still a rude and obnoxious, un-feeling, un-caring self-absorbed git.
"Oh, and Granger, I would go back to bed, unless you fancy being caught by Filch." Hermione looked up again to see that devilish face peering around the corner, his pale skin contrasting sharply against the stone. And then he was gone again, as quickly as he had reappeared. I need to go to bed. Hermione thought wearily, rather shocked and flustered enough for one night. But which way to the Gryffindor tower?
"And the tower is around the next corner to the right, and up the stairs." Malfoy's head appeared again, winked, and was gone for the second time. What had she just been saying about Malfoy being an uncaring git? That certainly translates as caring in my book. The thought of a kind Malfoy rather disturbed her. But what alarmed her more was the voice of Filch, much closer now.
"What, my pretty? Are they down here? Well, let us catch them before they sneak off to their bed!" Snapped out of her reverie, Hermione turned and ran as softly as she could, around the corner, up the stairs, and all the way back to the tower ("Password?" "Incendio!"). She only slowed down once she was safely in bed, the covers pulled tightly to her chin.
When the shaking and confusion subsided slightly, Hermione finally felt the night's exhaustion catching up to her. Too weary to think any longer, or get out of her robes, she relaxed the covers and turned to her side. As she was dozing off, she wondered just what Malfoy was planning to do with Advanced Love Spells to Snare the Heart and just why it was restricted...