A/N ~ OK IMPORTANT NOTICE –I added a little to the last chapter, nothing extraordinarily important, but nonetheless. Also, I fixed a mistake that was pointed out to me by '*butter~cup*,' (thanks for that by the way) I do know that Oliver Wood graduated in Harry's third year, I think my brain must have been on some type of vacation or something when I wrote that! Also, here are the translations for my spells from last chapter.
'Cathedra Reparo' – 'cathedra' is Latin for 'chair,' so literally it means 'repair the chair' J
'Candelabrum Ascendale' – 'candelabrum' is a Latin modification of the French word for candlestick, 'chandelier,' 'ascendale,' ascend–ale so this one
pretty much means 'chandelier go up'
THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS ~~ *butter~cup*, Princess Of Darkness, kitty, and princessfantasy
Disclaimer ~ Alright, if I owned ANY of these characters, would I really be writing fanfic??
Spoilers ~ umm . . . mild for OoTP (Room Of Requirement)
O.K, honestly this isn't my favorite chapter, I've added some minor insinuations of deeply, deeply buried attraction to appease those who want Hermione and Draco the end up more then just friends, and I'm hoping against hope that it isn't corny, whatever, just tell me what you think! REVIEW!!
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"He was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased . . . where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."
((Pride and Prejudice))
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Chapter Two :: Mild Allusions
The Room Of Requirement measures approximately twenty one feet in both width and diameter, yet Hermione found that if she sat exactly diagonal to Malfoy that she could manage at least twenty seven feet between them. Hermione was sitting as far as the Room would allow her to sit from Draco, who was seated at his corner desk again. She was perched atop a low mahogany bookshelf, her knees drawn protectively to her chest and her long arms wrapped sullenly around them, and upon shooting him a furtive glance she observed that he had not moved at all, his head was still resting unhappily in his hands and his back was hunched over the desk as if he were focusing on deducing a particularly difficult Arithmancy problem.
It was probably one in the morning, an hour having passed since they became trapped, and neither had spoken since Draco's muttered obscenity. Both seemed lost in their own thoughts, trying to preserve the silence for as long as possible while attempting to figure out a way to escape with a semi-maintained sanity.
Hermione sighed exasperatedly and leaned her head back to rest on the wall behind her; she herself had resigned to the fact that she would be spending seven tortuous days with the pale Slytherin who had repeatedly attempted to make her life miserable with taunts and insults. She had gone over every possible way that they could get out, and had even looked out the solitary window in the room, finding that it looked out onto the Forbidden Forest so it was unlikely that anyone would see them or hear a shout for help.
"What about your parents?" Draco asked suddenly, his voice low and uncharacteristically dull with submission.
Hermione's head shot up, and her eyes fixed frostily on Draco as she prepared for a spout of insults concerning the fact that she was the only one in her family with magical talents, being that both of her parents were muggles. "What about them?" She asked curtly.
"Oh come off it," he said disgustedly, his sharp perception detecting the defensive tone in her voice, "I wasn't going to mock them, there is plenty of time for that later, I was simply wondering whether or not they could help us get out."
"How do you mean?" Hermione asked tiredly, her voice was considerably less sharp, but her eyes were still observing him with an expression of contemptuous precaution.
"Well, aren't they expecting you home for the holiday? What will they do when you don't turn up at the station? Maybe they'll go to Dumbledore and-"
But she cut him off, having already gone over this particular scenario in her head, "They won't" She said sharply, "I told them last week that I hadn't decided whether or not I was coming home this year, and that I would owl them when I had decided, and if they didn't get a letter they were to just presume that I was staying." She paused for a moment and sighed again, returning her head to its laid back position against the wall, "I was going to send them the owl on the way back to the dormitories."
There was silence for a moment before Hermione redirected Draco's question back to him, "What about your parents then?"
For a split second she could have sworn she saw a look of disdain flit across his face, which seemed to stiffen a little bit. But just as soon as it had come it was gone, and she just dismissed it as fatigue's illusions.
"They won't take any notice when I don't turn up." He said quietly, yet the hint of conviction resounded distinctly in his cold tone, something which told her to leave the subject to rest.
The two lapsed into a momentary silence before Draco asked, "What were you doing here anyway?" his voice was languidly curious, as if the silence didn't fit his mood any longer and he had decided to talk just for the sake of sound.
"I could ask you the same question." She replied, wondering whether or not to tell him. After all, he was in league with that awful toad of a woman, who's to say that he wouldn't report back to her the second that they got out? Yet for some reason her mouth opened involuntarily "I was practicing Defense Against the Dark Arts for the O.W.Ls" she said, well, it was mostly the truth, she had just left out the finer details of it. "So, why were you here then?"
His face set in the smirk that was emblematic of his persona, "That's none of your business." He said shortly, his long fingers lazily twirling his wand, not even bothering to look at her.
"Oh come on, I told you" Hermione said in a voice that some would have considered a bit of a whine.
"Don't be immature, it's unbelievably annoying." Draco replied quickly, and there was silence for a moment as he considered her with a warily calculating expression on his controlled features, "I needed a place where I could do my homework." He said simply.
"You do have a common room in Slytherin, unless I'm mistaken."
"Yes, but it's impossible to get anything done there with two admittedly thick friends talking endlessly about nothing and the entire house shooting furtively distrustful looks around. I needed somewhere quiet without several pairs of eyes boring into my back, and incase you hadn't noticed I prefer to be by myself, so the Library wasn't an option. So I came here." He said reproachfully, his icy eyes glancing at her only once during his little speech. After a thought he added, "I don't know why there's a bed here though, it's never been here before."
Hermione's eyebrows arched a little in mild surprise, "Before? Do you come here often?" she asked, absently drumming her fingers against the hard wood of the bookshelf.
"Why does it matter?" Draco replied. He had never been one to give away information about himself that wasn't pertinent to the particular situation in which he found himself, it was something his father had taught him, 'What you know and they do not can only be used to your own advantage' he felt himself scowl at that thought. It was something of his father's personal motto, and it had been planted in his brain when he was a child along with several other choice phrases, each somehow involving self promotion, an idea which had always been the Malfoy family's main concern.
Hermione gave him a frustrated look, "It doesn't, I'm just trying to make civil conversation."
"Why?" He asked.
She snorted in a kind of calm disgust, "Because when we're making civil conversation we aren't trying murder each other with our bare hands," she said with a sideways glance.
Draco couldn't help himself, he smiled a little and, in a resigned voice he said, "Yea, I come here often, usually every night. Since third year I think."
Hermione nodded, "Huh," she said knowingly.
He looked at her sourly, "What?"
The Gryffindor just shook her head softly, "Nothing, its just, you must really hate your friends to want to escape them so often." She said innocently as she reached down and pulled out a random book from the shelf below her.
"Yea well. when the topic of discussion with them usually involves wondering how the kitchen elves are able to get the nougat inside of the Christmas truffles one has to find a place to escape them sometimes, purely in effort to stay sane and keep his intelligence level reducing that that of a piece of moldy cheese." Draco replied a bit hotly in a low and dangerous voice that was meant to warn whomever he was speaking to, because they were verging on insulting him, which would be very a bad idea. It was another thing that he had inherited from his father, a short temper and a dislike for any type of criticism. He scowled again.
Hermione looked up at him from A Glossary of Basic Hexes and How to Perform Them, which was open upon her lap, "Why are you frowning?" She asked as she looked back at the page and began to read about The Ulcus Curse, which causes large orange sores to sprout up all over the victims face and hands.
Malfoy seemed to start a little at her voice, like he had momentarily forgotten that she was there, but he responded quickly "Why do you care?"
She shrugged, "I don't, I just-"
"If you don't care then don't ask" he cut in waspishly.
"I just asked, you don't have to be so rude you know." Said Hermione idly, she had become so used to responding to this type of treatment from Malfoy that it was something of a second nature to accept it and rise above it.
"I don't have to justify myself to a bottom-dwelling Mudblood such as yourself." He sneered, his eyes relaxed into their standard malicious stare.
Hermione looked up at him sharply, slightly stricken and suddenly filled with the strong desire to see how his face would look covered in orange pustules, "You know, if we are going to survive the next week without killing each other you're going to have to stop giving me reasons to hex you." She said, her menacing tone overflowing with freshly renewed hatred for the pale blonde enigma opposite her.
Draco's cold eyes just fixed Hermione with a conceitedly triumphant stare, just by meeting his gaze you could tell that he was taking great pleasure in irritating her.
Hermione clenched her teeth angrily, "I swear to God you are completely and utterly maddening, I'm honestly beginning to pity Crabbe and Goyle," she said, and as an afterthought she added, "And if you give me one more look like that and I will gouge your eyes out and use them as marbles."
Draco smirked, eyes now alight with a cruel and practised malevolence, happily enjoying her anger and frustration, "Is this what you call civilised conversation?" He asked innocently and watched as her face contorted with suppressed irritation and resentment.
"You are without a doubt the most infuriating person I have ever met. I hate you." Hermione said in a staid, calm voice that seemed to be struggling to not reach out on its own and strangle him from across the room.
The Slytherin just leered at her again with pleased victory.
A few moments passed in silence before Hermione's stomach gave a particularly loud rumble.
"What was that?" asked Draco, giving her a somewhat disgusted look.
"Oh shove off, it was my stomach, I'm starving, is there any food in here?" she asked glumly, if there was nothing to eat then she wouldn't have to worry about spending a week with him, she would die of starvation first.
Draco just looked at her with a hint of both incredulity and confusion, "Do you even know how this room works?" he asked.
"Of course I do."
"Well then if you're hungry, just ask for something to eat." He said simply in a slightly proud tone, as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world, yet Hermione still looked as if she had no idea what he was talking about, so he sighed exasperatedly and said, "What I really need are two trays of dinner and pumpkin juice."
And on the desk before him appeared two wooden trays on top of which were two golden plates laden with steak and kidney pie, mashed potatoes, peas, and two tall golden glasses of bright orange pumpkin juice, it seemed as if the utensils were taken from the Great Hall.
Hermione looked at him amazedly, "I didn't know that you could do that!" She said happily as she walked over to him, picked up her meal, and went to sit at the table in the middle of the room.
Dinner was a bit of a subdued event, seeing as Hermione hadn't forgotten his insult and Draco genuinely had nothing to say to this girl who had been his sworn enemy since the age of eleven, yet at one point midway through her mashed potatoes Hermione looked up at him curiously. "If we can just ask for anything that we want then why can't we just ask for a way out?" She inquired but all she received was another superior look.
"It won't work." he said automatically, without explanation or even a hint of reason.
Yet Hermione seemed to feel that it was worth a try anyway, "What I really need is a way out." She said with a hopeful glance around the room, but nothing happened.
"You see Granger, there already is a way out," Draco drawled lazily, gesturing toward the door, "It's just locked."
"What I really need is another way out."
"You cannot wish new structures into the room, no new windows, doors, or openings to the outside world will be added, and the room also can't be widened or shortened when you are inside of it." He said, not even bothering to look up from his peas.
After a thought she tried one more time, "What I really need is for the door to be unlocked."
But even before she was finished Draco was shaking his blonde head, "The room doesn't work like that," he said, seeming slightly aggravated by Hermione's ignorance, "It won't change the state of things on command, I could say 'what I really need is for this desk to be purple' and nothing would happen. You can only ask for things to appear and disappear, not change the way they are." He finished through a bite of pie, but upon seeing a new hopeful look dawning on her face added, "And people cannot be wished in and out."
Hermione felt her face fall but her hope was quickly replaced with inquisitiveness, "How did you come to know everything about this room then?" she asked shrewdly, her eyes searching his face for some type of sign that he knew more then he was telling her.
Yet the Slytherin's face remained completely impassive as he responded, "I told you, I've been coming here nightly for three years." He said, and returned to his supper.
Hermione hated that, the way that he could keep his face rigidly blank of anything that might give away what he was thinking or feeling, and the fact that he could control his every feature, deciding carefully whether or not he should let his emotions show. As a result of this she could never tell when he was lying or hiding something and she found it supremely unfair because she knew that her face could be read like the proverbial open book. Why should he get to know what she was thinking but she cannot do the same for him? She sighed a little and went back to her dinner, knowing that if she continued to contemplate this it would only make her head hurt.
When dinner was through Draco cleared the food ("What we really do not need are these empty plates.") and glanced at his wristwatch, "It's nearly two thirty, I'm going to bed." He said tiredly and Hermione herself yawned, but frowned as he started toward the bed. "Wait!" She exclaimed indignantly, "Why do you get the bed?"
"Because," he said simply, with no indication that he was planning on giving explanation.
"Well where do I sleep then?" Hermione asked, looking around the room and finding nothing that would be suitable for sleeping.
"Floor?"
"Absolutely not, if you honestly thought that I was going to sleep on the floor then you are about as thick as your friends." Hermione shot back.
"Relax would you? Why don't you just ask for your own bed." Draco said as pajamas appeared before him and he began to pull off his robes, not caring that Hermione was standing in the room. Hermione then turned around and, upon seeing his bare chest, blushed a little and said angrily, "You have no modesty, do you?"
Draco smiled maliciously, "What, make you uncomfortable Granger? The sight of my quidditch chiseled stomach?" He commented, happily showing off like he was playing some sort of twisted game in competition with only himself, the goal of which was to make her blush a deeper shade of crimson.
"Both arrogant and deluded." She quipped, back still turned as he said "Fine, I'll change in here." And he picked up his pajamas and walked into the bathroom that she had asked for shortly before dinner.
God how she loathed him, that idiotic look on his face when he knew that he'd found some new way of torturing her, the fact that he would go as far as to take off his shirt to make her angry and uncomfortable. It was completely distasteful and so very, well, him. She shoved the image of him half naked to the very back of her mind where she gladly buried it. "What I really need is a bed," Hermione said with sleepy conviction, yet was surprised to see that nothing happened, and on the table beside her she saw a small piece of parchment materialize in a puff of yellow smoke. Upon it, written in curved script with violet ink was 'There is no room for this.'
Hermione glanced around the room at the various bookshelves and cabinets and the corner desk and realized that this was correct, so she said in a loud voice, "What we really don't need are these bookshelves." Yet again, nothing happened.
"Malfoy." Hermione called sharply and she watched as he to emerged from the bathroom dressed in a pair of deep green silk pajamas.
"What? Reconsidered letting me change in front of you?"
"Hardly," she said, fixing him with her best withering stare, "There's something wrong, I tried to wish away the bookshelves to make room for my bed, but they won't disappear" She said as she gestured at the shelves, extremely annoyed. She watched hopefully as Malfoy tried to get rid of them as well, and then as he tried to get rid of his desk, the pillow cabinet, and the table in the centre of the room. Nothing happened.
"I don't know what's going on, this has never happened before." He said, a little put out that he couldn't come up with the immediate right answer. "It must have something to do with why we are locked in here in the first place, maybe because we both entered the room with two different purposes it kind of malfunctioned and now we can't get rid of what ended up here, the blend of our two purposes. We can wish in new items and get rid of them, but we can't get rid of what was already here."
Hermione nodded a little, this seemed rational and she was always one to agree with what could be reasoned out with logic, but soon a look of horror passed over her face. "I am not sharing a bed with you." She said defiantly, just the thought of the idea giving her shivers.
They both looked at the bed. It was large, in muggle terms it would be called 'queen sized.' Velvety draperies spilled elegantly down from the high canopy created by four tall wooden posts, giving unnecessary privacy if drawn closed. It looked very comfortable. The jade green sheets were framed in silver and they shone when light fell on them, as silk often does. The mattress was thick and both the pillows and the comforter were found to be stuffed with a generous amount of feathers. The point is, it was more then big enough for two people to sleep comfortably in. Yet as appealing a sight that should have been to tired eyes, in this particular situation the two people standing before it were looking upon this luxurious bed with nothing short of utter loathing and dread.
There was complete silence for nearly a minute as the two enemies looked upon the bed, and then two pairs of eyes roved the room, desperately searching for something – anything - other then the bed to sleep on. When they found nothing the two looked at each other with identical expressions of horror and disgust, but then Hermione walked over to the bed and pointed her wand at it, "Discrimenire" she whispered and a shining metallic line unfurled from the tip of her wand, and it laid itself upon the comforter so that there was a long, glimmering silver barrier dividing the large bed in two.
"There," she said halfheartedly, "That line cannot be crossed from either side, we'll be fine." her voice attempting and dismally failing to sound confident, instead giving the impression that she was trying to convince not only her companion but herself as well that they would indeed be alright.
Draco looked skeptically at the bed, but decided to just accept her word as the truth for once and slid beneath the green covers with a somewhat infuriating type of grace.
Hermione watched him do this, and then asked for her own pair of pajamas.
Instantaneously a mid-thigh length scarlet silken nightgown was sitting daintily in her outstretched hands; its neckline and skirt were outlined in gold, as were the thin straps and it was pleasantly soft to the touch. She held it up and studied it for a second, it wasn't exactly something she would have chosen for herself had she been given a choice at all being that it revealed a little more of her then she wanted seen by Malfoy, and when she put it on she found that it fit her a little too well. Hermione had never seen the point to looking overly attractive while sleeping, and it was in her studious nature to feel slightly uncomfortable in such attire, so she asked for a nice, light, long sleeved jumper to wear over it.
She surveyed herself in the mirror in her sleep clothes, and found what she saw to her liking, so she brushed her teeth quickly and then, upon returning to the bed, she examined the green and silver comforter and sheets. 'Apud me Versicolor ' she whispered and touched her wand to the silk beneath her, from the tip a wave of scarlet and gold erupted and seemed to wash over the sheets and in a few seconds half of the bed was Slytherin's silver and green, and the other half was Gryffindor's scarlet and gold. Hermione smiled a little and slipped between the bedclothes, she could hear Malfoy breathing beside her, already in a light slumber. For some odd and inexplicable reason the sound of him sleeping peacefully, his breath coming steady and soft, helped Hermione fall asleep as well.
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Translations ~
'Discrimenire' – comes from the Latin word for 'dividing' (discrimen) and a modification for the Latin word for line (ire), literally means 'dividing line'
'Apud me Versicolor' – literally means 'in my colors' in Latin.
Note ~ I just finished my first year in Latin, so these translations may be a little rough!
Ok, now that was a little long in my opinion! (12 pages on Word) Definitely the longest chapter I have ever written! And I hope I'm making the characters sound British enough, I'm even trying to write in that lingo, you know with the 'u' in color and the 's' instead of the 'c' practice (etc . . .) to make it authentic! But anyway, you know the drill, Review Review Review!