A/N: I put this one out early because there was nothing else to do but read homework. Not that any of you really care, because no one is reading this story. If you are, and you're thinking, "Hey! I'm reading this story!" then why didn't you review? That's why the review buttons are there. Tell me what I'm doing wrong with the story. Give me suggestions, because I'm making this up as I go along.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these character! Wish I did and that I was the one making million, but I don't. Don't sue.
Disclaimer #2: This is only half of the wiredsisters writing this. I believe that I am referred to as wiredsister 1. I am the older one, and the other had no part in this story what so ever.
Ron
After the door slammed shut, I turned to Hermione. "Listen, Hermione," I started. "I just wanted to apologize for that fight in the dungeon. I will try not to let him get to me anymore." I had decided that I could wait for a better time to tell Hermione how I feel.
"Ron, I --" she started when the door burst back open and in walked Malfoy.
"Damn," he said simply.
"Oh, bugger. I thought you'd left," I said without looking at him.
"Damn!" he said with more feeling this time. He tried turning the door knob, but it seemed like it wouldn't open. "No, no, no! Alohamora! Finte Incatanium! God damn it!"
I shot a puzzled look at Hermione. "Malfoy has finally gone nutters," I stated. Hermione guffawed.
"I know you two might think that this is hilarious, but we happen to be locked in here!"
"What?" I exclaimed. I ran to the door and tried he knob, but it wouldn't budge. "Ahh!" I decided that yelling at the door would be the best course of action. "Open you, bloody, stupid, door! Open, open, OPEN!"
"Ron, calm down. There has to be a way to open the door. Malfoy, how did the door get locked."
"Err," Malfoy stammered, looking somewhat lost as he gazed at Hermione. "The... err... I don't know," he said at last. "I went outside, got turned around, and next thing I knew, I was back in here." He held his gaze and stared into Hermione's eyes. She was staring back.
I didn't like this. I cleared my throat, loudly, making both of them jump. I gave Hermione a look and Malfoy continued what ever it was he was saying.
"So, now I seem to be stuck in a small space, with only one bathroom, a picnic hamper of food, a filthy weasel, and a mudblood."
"And we're stuck here with a Death Eater." I looked at Hermione, hoping she'd be proud that I had not fought Malfoy over her honor, but before I good get either a yay of nay from her, I was slammed up against the door. Malfoy had his arm across my neck and his other balled up and hanging menacingly a foot from my face.
"Never call me that, Weasley. Never!" he told me, his voice low and threatening.
"Honestly! Could you two spend five minuets with pounding each other's faces? Good Lord, just try to get along! We're going to be here for a week! That's too long for you idiots to be fighting." Hermione called from the other side of the room. She looked mad. God, she was pretty when she was mad. "Now, how about a compromise? We won't call you a Death Eater if you don't use the words 'Mudblood, filthy,' or weasel.'"
"Fine," Malfoy said, though he did not look to happy about it. But Hermione smiled at him. From the look in his eyes, I could tell that all was forgotten to him when she smiled.
He smiled back! Malfoy actually smiled!
What the fuck is going on between them?
Hermione
How come the people who never smile are always the ones with the best smiles? Is it just the fact that it looks different on them that makes everyone like the smile? Or is it something else?
Malfoy was smiling now, and he looked pretty darn cute while he was doing it.
Oh, my god. Did I just think that?
I looked at Ron, and from the disgusted look on his face, I wondered if he could read minds.
"So, we don't have that much food, but lets organize it. We'll divide it into three piles, making sure that each one has equal amounts. Each pile can go to one of us. Then, we can each split our pile into seven different sections and only eat one section a day. That's what they did when five students got stuck in the Ravenclaw common room once. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History. The survived four a month before their families realized that they never came home for the summer holidays..." I realized that I was babbling now, but didn't care.
"Whatever. I'm going to sleep." Malfoy opened the bathroom door, entered, and slammed it behind him.
"Hermione, we have to talk."
"Not now, Ron."
"Why not now? It's not like we have anywhere else to be."
"Well..."
"Hermione, listen. I've been thinking a lot lately, about you. And, well, I think that I might--"
"Ron, stop!"
"What?"
"I know what you're going to say."
"You do?"
"And I don't want you to say it."
Ron looked down at the ground. "Oh."
"Ron,"
"No, I understand. You're still in love with Harry."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes. You are. You've been distant, lately. I can tell you're thinking about him. I know that you think about him everyday, because I think about you everyday. Every night, I--"
"No. I don't want to hear it." I went to the closet door. I had to get away from this. I didn't want to hear what he was going to say. The door to the bathroom opened easily and I went inside.
"Bloody hell! Don't you knock?" Malfoy was standing shirtless in the middle of the room. But for some reason, I didn't care. I just sat on the floor facing away from him.
"What's wrong, Granger? Boyfriend dump you?" I could tell he was smirking even though I couldn't see him. I started to cry.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Malfoy moved behind me. I could hear him kneel. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder.
Draco
"Want a butterbeer?" I asked, handing her one.
"How did you get that?"
"I stole the basket while you were blabbering about Ravenclaws. You two should be less trusting." I held the butterbeer closer to her and she accepted it.
"You shouldn't have done that," she told me after three butterbeers. We were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the bathroom. Why there was a tub in the trophy room is beyond me. Actually, why we have a bathroom connecting to the trophy room is beyond me.
"What?"
"Stolen the butterbeers. Now we might not have any to drink for a while."
"Of course we will. We can fill the empty bottles with the water from the sink," I said, sliding closer to her.
"Oh, yeah. But you still shouldn't have done that," she said playfully swatting my arm. I grabbed her wrist and starred into her eyes.
"And I probably shouldn't do this either." I leaned over and kissed her. Her mouth was sticky from the butterbeer but she kissed back willingly. I dropped her wrist and placed my hand gently on her waist as hers mussed my perfectly gelled hair.
She pulled away from me and giggled. "You're right. You shouldn't have done that." But before I could respond, she was kissing m, passionately. But this time, her hands were lower then my hair.
I pulled back quickly. "You're drunk," I stated. But she threw herself at me, knocking me over backwards into the tub. Now she was on top of me, hands roaming and her lips fixed on one spot on my neck.
It would be lying to say that I didn't enjoy this. It would be lying to say that I didn't have any thoughts about letting her take this as far as she wanted. But one though came to mind: What would she say after?
Forcefully, I pushed her off of me, and got out of the empty bathtub. Hermione giggled.
"Jesus Christ!" I swore. "Why can't you hold your damn liquor?" She stood up, amazingly, and started undoing her robes. I stood fixated, willing myself to stop her, but I couldn't.
She reached back to unclip her bra when Weasley burst through the door.
