A/N: This was just a quirky little idea I thought up after reading a story
called "Blasted Muggle Contraptions"; it rocks, you should check it out.
Basically, what it ended up being was "What if Draco and Hermione were
stuck together in a confined place for a long period of time?" It didn't
really turn out the way I expected it to, though. They fall in love a lot
faster than I originally wanted them to. I wanna get to the action! I swear
I have no idea where a bunch of the stuff in this story came from, I think
I was asleep through like half it. Not because it was boring to write or
anything, just because it was like two in the morning and I was really
tired, but I couldn't sleep 'cause, well, that's kinda a long story. So, I
give you, "Oops! I Did It Again!" (In now way connected or related to the
Britney Spears song by the same name, 'cause, well, ew!)
Disclaimer: Do we really need this? I mean if I owned this stuff, I wouldn't be sitting around yelling at my shitty computer for deleting the chapter that I just finished. I'd be throwing it against the wall and buying a new one. ;)
Chapter One: Cause of the Confinement
She was upset. That much was obvious. But he had no idea why. * Of course, * he thought ruefully, * I very rarely understand anything Granger does. Bloody Gryffindor. * He hated not knowing what to do, not being totally in control of a situation.
Draco Malfoy no longer harbored the incredibly intense dislike for Hermione Granger that he once had, but that had come only through spending too much time together. When you were confined to a TV-less hotel room with someone for months on end, you didn't have much choice but to get to know them. Especially as they had both finished the work for the entire school ear within a month.
Once they had run out of homework, there was a small en suite library to conquer. That took them all of a week.
Then as they were forced to talk a bit more, came The Psychoanalysis of Draco. They were still in that stage a month and a half later, as Draco was refusing to give any ground. Little did he know.
But as we want the suspense to build there a little, we are first going to learn why two of Hogwarts' greatest enemies are locked in a hotel room together.
FLASHBACK:
"Miss Granger, I'm sorry, but you have no choice. The pair of you are the most powerful witch and wizard Hogwarts has seen since Riddle himself. It was inevitable that he try for you allegiance sooner or later." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but firm. There was no way he'd change his mind.
Though Hermione didn't say it, she wondered why Malfoy was being put under the headmaster's protection as well. Everyone knew he was going to be a Death Eater, just like his father.
Hermione sighed, then nodded. She could see no other solution. She did have a request though. "Couldn't Malfoy and I at least have separate suites?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Mr. Malfoy asked me the same question, Miss Granger." I told him the same thing I will tell you. I think it will be a little less monotonous for both of you this way." He smiled. "If nothing else, you can fight for amusement." His blue eyes were twinkling.
Hermione blushed, then smiled. "I suppose you're right. When are we leaving?"
"As soon as possible, Miss Granger We will collect you when we have either found a suitable place for you to continue your, to put it more accurately, confinement, or it can come to an end. Good evening, Miss Granger."
Hermione grimaced at the word "confinement." She stood to leave, and just before she reached the door, Dumbledore said, "Oh, and Miss Granger, one more thing." She turned, her hand on the doorknob. "Please be sure not to tell anyone about your impending departure."
"Not even Harry and Ron?" Hermione was wondering how her and Malfoy's sudden and coinciding departure would be explained.
"No one, Miss Granger. Good evening to you."
Hermione stepped onto the moving staircase with a heavy heart. She was sad she had to leave, though at the same time she was filled with a strange excitement.
So it was, that two days later, on October 1st, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin stepped into their heavily spelled suite in a Wizard hotel in Portland, Oregon, USA.
It was quite comfortable, as hotel rooms went, with a spelled cupboard and mini fridge directly connected to the Hogwarts kitchens. Anything you wanted would immediately appear.
The couches and chairs were spelled to look and feel however you wanted them to, as were the walls, and beds, and pretty much everything else. They had some fun playing with that, and every once in awhile Draco would change Hermione's favorite chair to an electrical chair, or something equally uncomfortable, just for kicks.
The bathrooms (they each had their own) were spelled much the same way, and any soap, or hair gel, or whatever, that you wanted would immediately appear.
The library would give you any book.
The dressers gave you anything you wanted to wear.
The rooms cleaned themselves.
A chest in the living room would give you any blanket, or toy, or.
There were photo albums that would give you any picture of any person.
There was one room that could make it like you were anywhere in the world. It was in short, paradise.
Draco and Hermione were bored as hell.
END FLASHBACK
"Mione?" Draco said it slowly, cautiously.
Hermione was shocked out of her angry contemplation of the flowers on her favorite armchair. Draco never used her nickname. They had agreed at the beginning of their confinement that it would be best if they were on a first name basis. But Draco had never shortened her name; he always sounded so clipped and professional when he said it.
She didn't speak for awhile, at first appearing to be numb with shock, and then looking him up and down like she'd never seen him before. She didn't seem like she was angry, at least not with him, so he tried again. "Mione, what's wrong."
Hermione was still recovering from her shock. After a moment she said, "The post came."
He looked puzzled. "Why does that make you." He trailed off as she shoved a piece of parchment at him. It said:
Dear Mione,
I hope you're well, and that you and Malfoy haven't killed each other yet.
Draco looked up quizzically at her. Hadn't she told Harry and Ron how they were actually getting along rather well? She motioned for him to keep reading. He looked back down at the parchment.
I have been thinking about you a lot lately, and I've written you to
ask you to be my girlfriend. Please say yes, Mione. I love you and I
want be with you.
Love?
Ron
Draco looked back at Hermione, barely contained mirth evident in his eyes. "I don't see why this makes you so angry. The rest of us have been waiting for it for awhile now. You know, like since 2nd year."
"But Draco, we're 7th years!"
"I had no idea!" He was pretending to be shocked.
She glared at him. "You'd think he'd be over it by now!"
"YOU would, but everyone else knows better than that."
"It makes me angry," she said, still glaring, "because Ron is my friend, nothing more. I have never had feelings for him that way. And it makes me angry because he's too much of a wuss to say it to my face. And it makes me angry because I am going to HAVE to say "no" and ruin our friendship." Her eyes were bright now with unshed tears.
"Um, this might sound dumb, but why don't you just pretend you like him?"
Hermione was crying in earnest now. Draco awkwardly reached out and put his arms around her. She stiffened, then relaxed into him. After awhile, her sobs subsided, and he felt her mumble something into his, now soaked, T- shirt. He whispered, "Sorry, didn't catch that?"
She said it again, louder this time. Because, I'd forget or something and I'd."
"You'd what?"
"Well I'd be wishing it was.someone else," she finished lamely. She was having trouble concentrating with his body pressed so close to hers.
"Who?" He was intrigued. Chaste little Granger? Liked someone?
She tensed and didn't say anything for a moment. Then she looked up into his eyes and breathed, "You."
She said it so softly that he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "Me? But Mione, I've always.We've always. I.You.Potter.Weasley." he stuttered, searching for the right thing to say. He realized there was only one thing he could say or do to describe hi emotions at the moment. So that is what he did.
Draco Malfoy leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. She was shocked. Then she smiled into the kiss and relaxed.
When he felt her relax against him, he deepened the kiss a little. He felt her arms come up around his neck, and her fingers in his white-blonde, spiked hair. He pulled back a bit and smiled. She smiled back.
This year was really starting to look up.
Disclaimer: Do we really need this? I mean if I owned this stuff, I wouldn't be sitting around yelling at my shitty computer for deleting the chapter that I just finished. I'd be throwing it against the wall and buying a new one. ;)
Chapter One: Cause of the Confinement
She was upset. That much was obvious. But he had no idea why. * Of course, * he thought ruefully, * I very rarely understand anything Granger does. Bloody Gryffindor. * He hated not knowing what to do, not being totally in control of a situation.
Draco Malfoy no longer harbored the incredibly intense dislike for Hermione Granger that he once had, but that had come only through spending too much time together. When you were confined to a TV-less hotel room with someone for months on end, you didn't have much choice but to get to know them. Especially as they had both finished the work for the entire school ear within a month.
Once they had run out of homework, there was a small en suite library to conquer. That took them all of a week.
Then as they were forced to talk a bit more, came The Psychoanalysis of Draco. They were still in that stage a month and a half later, as Draco was refusing to give any ground. Little did he know.
But as we want the suspense to build there a little, we are first going to learn why two of Hogwarts' greatest enemies are locked in a hotel room together.
FLASHBACK:
"Miss Granger, I'm sorry, but you have no choice. The pair of you are the most powerful witch and wizard Hogwarts has seen since Riddle himself. It was inevitable that he try for you allegiance sooner or later." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but firm. There was no way he'd change his mind.
Though Hermione didn't say it, she wondered why Malfoy was being put under the headmaster's protection as well. Everyone knew he was going to be a Death Eater, just like his father.
Hermione sighed, then nodded. She could see no other solution. She did have a request though. "Couldn't Malfoy and I at least have separate suites?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Mr. Malfoy asked me the same question, Miss Granger." I told him the same thing I will tell you. I think it will be a little less monotonous for both of you this way." He smiled. "If nothing else, you can fight for amusement." His blue eyes were twinkling.
Hermione blushed, then smiled. "I suppose you're right. When are we leaving?"
"As soon as possible, Miss Granger We will collect you when we have either found a suitable place for you to continue your, to put it more accurately, confinement, or it can come to an end. Good evening, Miss Granger."
Hermione grimaced at the word "confinement." She stood to leave, and just before she reached the door, Dumbledore said, "Oh, and Miss Granger, one more thing." She turned, her hand on the doorknob. "Please be sure not to tell anyone about your impending departure."
"Not even Harry and Ron?" Hermione was wondering how her and Malfoy's sudden and coinciding departure would be explained.
"No one, Miss Granger. Good evening to you."
Hermione stepped onto the moving staircase with a heavy heart. She was sad she had to leave, though at the same time she was filled with a strange excitement.
So it was, that two days later, on October 1st, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin stepped into their heavily spelled suite in a Wizard hotel in Portland, Oregon, USA.
It was quite comfortable, as hotel rooms went, with a spelled cupboard and mini fridge directly connected to the Hogwarts kitchens. Anything you wanted would immediately appear.
The couches and chairs were spelled to look and feel however you wanted them to, as were the walls, and beds, and pretty much everything else. They had some fun playing with that, and every once in awhile Draco would change Hermione's favorite chair to an electrical chair, or something equally uncomfortable, just for kicks.
The bathrooms (they each had their own) were spelled much the same way, and any soap, or hair gel, or whatever, that you wanted would immediately appear.
The library would give you any book.
The dressers gave you anything you wanted to wear.
The rooms cleaned themselves.
A chest in the living room would give you any blanket, or toy, or.
There were photo albums that would give you any picture of any person.
There was one room that could make it like you were anywhere in the world. It was in short, paradise.
Draco and Hermione were bored as hell.
END FLASHBACK
"Mione?" Draco said it slowly, cautiously.
Hermione was shocked out of her angry contemplation of the flowers on her favorite armchair. Draco never used her nickname. They had agreed at the beginning of their confinement that it would be best if they were on a first name basis. But Draco had never shortened her name; he always sounded so clipped and professional when he said it.
She didn't speak for awhile, at first appearing to be numb with shock, and then looking him up and down like she'd never seen him before. She didn't seem like she was angry, at least not with him, so he tried again. "Mione, what's wrong."
Hermione was still recovering from her shock. After a moment she said, "The post came."
He looked puzzled. "Why does that make you." He trailed off as she shoved a piece of parchment at him. It said:
Dear Mione,
I hope you're well, and that you and Malfoy haven't killed each other yet.
Draco looked up quizzically at her. Hadn't she told Harry and Ron how they were actually getting along rather well? She motioned for him to keep reading. He looked back down at the parchment.
I have been thinking about you a lot lately, and I've written you to
ask you to be my girlfriend. Please say yes, Mione. I love you and I
want be with you.
Love?
Ron
Draco looked back at Hermione, barely contained mirth evident in his eyes. "I don't see why this makes you so angry. The rest of us have been waiting for it for awhile now. You know, like since 2nd year."
"But Draco, we're 7th years!"
"I had no idea!" He was pretending to be shocked.
She glared at him. "You'd think he'd be over it by now!"
"YOU would, but everyone else knows better than that."
"It makes me angry," she said, still glaring, "because Ron is my friend, nothing more. I have never had feelings for him that way. And it makes me angry because he's too much of a wuss to say it to my face. And it makes me angry because I am going to HAVE to say "no" and ruin our friendship." Her eyes were bright now with unshed tears.
"Um, this might sound dumb, but why don't you just pretend you like him?"
Hermione was crying in earnest now. Draco awkwardly reached out and put his arms around her. She stiffened, then relaxed into him. After awhile, her sobs subsided, and he felt her mumble something into his, now soaked, T- shirt. He whispered, "Sorry, didn't catch that?"
She said it again, louder this time. Because, I'd forget or something and I'd."
"You'd what?"
"Well I'd be wishing it was.someone else," she finished lamely. She was having trouble concentrating with his body pressed so close to hers.
"Who?" He was intrigued. Chaste little Granger? Liked someone?
She tensed and didn't say anything for a moment. Then she looked up into his eyes and breathed, "You."
She said it so softly that he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "Me? But Mione, I've always.We've always. I.You.Potter.Weasley." he stuttered, searching for the right thing to say. He realized there was only one thing he could say or do to describe hi emotions at the moment. So that is what he did.
Draco Malfoy leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. She was shocked. Then she smiled into the kiss and relaxed.
When he felt her relax against him, he deepened the kiss a little. He felt her arms come up around his neck, and her fingers in his white-blonde, spiked hair. He pulled back a bit and smiled. She smiled back.
This year was really starting to look up.