MetroDweller – I hope this fulfills your expectations! Just remember… more is to come…
Shahrezad1 - *backing away slowly* Math? Uh… I'll just… be… over there… *pointing* Oh, and so this isn't quite as dramatic as I might have implied, in the romance area… but still! I gotta save something for later! Lol.
Ms. CE – Heh heh heh. Ginny and Harry. Have I implied there's another tale to come? *big cheesy grin*
Everyone!! Especially those silent readers *pointing at YOU*!! Read! Review! Thank you!
Chapter 9
It had been a bloody long week. Cara rubbed her forehead wearily with the non-spoon hand. At least she'd remembered not to use the spoon this time, she mentally sighed. She'd done that in class this morning, and the skin was still tender. Damn that lizard bile.
"Done, McDouglas?" came Malfoy's drawling voice. He was a few tables away, carefully measuring and stirring himself. She didn't know what the heck he was working on, but boy was he concentrating. If he didn't say something to her every now and then, even though it was always something nasty, she'd have thought he'd forgotten her presence. Whatever this potion he'd started, it must be a humdinger. She grinned. Humdinger. That was a funny word.
Snapping back to reality, Cara peered down into her cauldron. "Umm," she mumbled, chewing one lip. "What color is it supposed to be again?" She'd ended up with so many different shades, she wasn't sure what the original color should be.
Malfoy heaved a sigh, even as his eyes were narrowed intently on a carefully leveled teaspoon of something gray and liquidy. "Purple, you slow-wit. A lovely shade of pale purple, which has yet to appear in your cauldron." He stirred slowly, rhythmically, almost hypnotically as he tipped that spoonful of stuff into his cauldron. Cara watched fascinated as swirls of silver streaked through the contents, slowly fading into a gray-blue.
"What are you making?" she asked, really curious. It was one of her problems, that damn curiosity. It made her do stupid things like attempt a conversation with her incredibly prickly and rude tutor.
"What color is your bloody potion, McDouglas?" Malfoy drawled, completely ignoring her. Jerk, she thought huffily. He probably slept on a bed of rocks, and ate small children for breakfast, washing them down with ground up puppies and kittens…
There was a deliberate throat-clearing, and Cara jumped. Right. Potion.
She looked down, and her jaw dropped. "Uh… this can't be right," she said.
"Why? What color is it this time?" he said, sounding utterly bored, as he banked his fire, setting the cauldron back on the coals.
"Well, um… you see…" she stammered. Still not sure. She double-checked. Damn. It was unbelievable.
"Dammit, McDouglas, just how badly did you screw up this time?" he demanded, eyes narrowed as he strode over to her cauldron. She stepped back as he brushed by, peering inside. "Hmm," he said as he looked at the contents.
"I know," she said, still not really believing it.
Malfoy raised one eyebrow and looked at her. "Congratulations, McDouglas, that's your first correct potion in the three years." Cara flushed with pleasure, then glared as she took in the insult behind the compliment. "I checked," he said with a smirk.
"Jerk," she muttered. "So I really did it? It's correct?"
Malfoy in answer reached over and picked up the paring knife she'd used on the ginger root. Her jaw dropped as he proceeded to slice open the tip of one finger. "What… you idiot!" she sputtered as blood began to well.
"Do you think I would do this if it wasn't correct?" he said coolly, dipping out a spoonful of the potion. He proceeded to pour it over the bleeding cut and Cara watched in fascination as the wound closed, steaming just a bit.
"That's bloody fantastic," she finally said. Her smile felt like it was stretching her cheeks until they were going to break. "I did that! I made something that did that!" She wanted to jump up and down in joy, and so she did, bouncing on her feet and flinging her hands up in the air. "I'm the king of the world!" she hollered, throwing her arms wide just like in that stupid Muggle movie. Sure it was dumb, but boy did it fit the moment.
"Are you quite through?" Malfoy drawled. Not even His Icyness could ruin Cara's mood.
"Stuff it, you prat," she said beaming.
For a second, she thought she saw the corners of his lips twitch, but figured it must have been a trick of the light. "Bottle it, and for Merlin's sake, don't forget the Unbreakable Charm," he said. "I have a feeling you'll need this much and more by the end of the year."
"I'm the king of the wo-ORLD… I'm the king of the wo-ORLD," Cara half-sang, have chanted as she boogied her way to the beakers. Oh yeah. Who needed chocolate to get high? This was great. She danced back with the beakers, ready for anything.
**********
Draco methodically checked one last time to be sure the fire was properly banked, his workspace pristinely clear, and his notes safely tucked away. He couldn't afford any mistakes. What he was trying to do was risky enough without a foolish mistake.
Speaking of foolish mistakes… he glanced over at the still-celebrating girl. Great ghosts, did she call that dancing? It reminded him of something he'd seen when one of the house elves had had a fit. And she was still chanting that bloody phrase. He didn't want to know where that came from.
He kept one eye on her, making sure she could bottle properly. It was a reasonable fear, he thought dryly. After all, she hadn't bottled a proper potion since that infamous last correct potion in her second year. But she was pouring carefully, despite the fact that her hips were still wiggling madly as she did. And she handled the stopper with the proper amount of care, and her Unbreakable Charm was quick and efficient. He grimaced. And it barely managed to interrupt her steady stream of unpleasant singing.
"Done, McDouglas?" he said coolly.
"Just cleaning up," she said, still wiggling around the room. It was getting distracting. Draco was not used to finding himself watching a girl, for any reason, and that irritated him. Why was he watching this one doing her rather insane dance?
"Hurry up," he said coldly. "I've spent enough time on you tonight."
She flicked her wand and somewhat to his surprise, everything was clean and in its proper place. Hmm. Apparently the little Gryff was good at Charms, he thought. "All done," she sang, snatching up her bookbag. "See you tomorrow!" She headed for the door, still 'dancing' and singing. "I'm walking on sunshine, oh-OH! I'm walking on sunshine…"
Draco winced and heard the door close behind her with relief. Thank Merlin. She truly was a bad singer. An enthusiastic but bad singer. He pulled out a quill and parchment, and quickly scribbled an outline of the evening for Professor Stone, jotting down both the girl's success and his own beginning on his project. He affixed it to her office door with a tap of his wand, and then slung his bookbag over his shoulder. His shoulder ached as he did.
He'd have to take another hot shower tonight, he thought wearily. Damn that Bellatrix. Hot showers were about the only readily available thing he'd found that soothed the pain. He rolled the sore shoulder as he strode down the silent halls toward the Slytherin common room.
Turning a corner, he was forced to halt. Scowling, he surveyed the mess in front of him. Those damn Weasley's and their ridiculous joke shop. The majority of their products were purchased for use on the Slytherins. Currently, some jokester-wannabe had filled the last three hundred feet of corridor to the common room with a lesser version of the Weasley's expanding swamp. He sniffed. At least this one didn't smell as foul.
Draco sighed and began retracing his steps. Fortunately, there was a back door that only a few students were aware of. He'd have to walk nearly to Gryffindor and back, but it was better than trying to ford that ridiculous yet impressive swamp.
Draco was climbing one of the hundreds of staircases when he caught a whisper up ahead. His eyes narrowed. Some prankster out for more fun? Probably the ones who'd 'decorated' the Slytherin corridor. He smiled with deep satisfaction. He'd be more than happy to wake Professor Snape with the culprits in hand.
Moving on silent feet, he peered around the corner. Two boys he recognized vaguely as third-year Ravenclaws were huddled in a corner of a nearby staircase. They were staring avidly at yet another staircase on the far side of the hallway. He frowned. What were they doing?
As he watched, a small and oblivious figure came wiggling around the corner and headed for the empty stair in question. Draco had just enough time to recognize McDouglas as she began to climb and the boys let out one muffled giggle. Then his eyes widened as the stair began to vanish behind her. He stared in disbelief as the steps she'd already walked up simply vanished, and then as the ones in front of her began to do the same.
McDouglas finally looked up, then, and let out a shriek of alarm as she realized that she was heading for what looked like thin air, and pressed herself back into the wall as she stood, trapped on the landing of her staircase. The boys giggled again, and then took off, leaving Draco with a dilemma.
His dilemma was solved when he realized the stairs were vanishing still, and that the landing was likely to be next. Bloody hell, he thought grimly. Was he going to have a few words with those dimwitted Ravenclaws.
"McDouglas," he shouted as he started down his stairway, intent on heading to hers. Her head whipped up, as she pressed back into the wall. There was a look of terror on her face.
"M-Malfoy?" she quavered. "What's going on with the steps?"
He moved as fast as he could, not entirely sure if the steps were merely invisible. It looked like a Transparent Charm, but knowing those mindless incompetents, they could have done something wrong and made the stairs truly vanish. In which case, McDouglas was about ten seconds from falling to her death a hundred feet down.
And then her rapidly shrinking stair gave a jolt, and started to move. She shrieked as she lost her balance as the stair started moving away from the wall. "Dammit," Draco shouted as he gave up and reached for the railing. As he leaped as hard as he could toward the patch of visible stair, he shouted "Accio Cara!"
His feet hit solid stone landing even as she was yanked back up and tumbled into him. "Bloody hell, hold still," he gritted as he tried not to fall. She'd knocked him a little off balance, and he was already sore today.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she was saying, eyes wide and terrified. Her hands were clutching tightly at his sleeves.
"McDouglas, snap out of it," he ordered through his teeth. He cast a wary eye at the now no longer visible rest of the stairway. They were still moving. He slid one foot out, testing the vanished part. Much to his relief, it was solid beneath his foot. So they weren't about to fall to their death.
"Just hold still, it's invisible," he ordered the girl, who'd thankfully gulped and gotten a grip on herself. Of course, she was white as a sheet and shaking just a touch, but he supposed nearly falling to your death caused that reaction.
They waited in tense silence for the stairs to stop, her fingers biting into his arms. Finally, the stair ground to a halt, silence once again filling the air. Draco cast a wary look down, and then quickly back up again. Sure enough, the landing beneath them was now invisible.
"It's gone, isn't it?" she said, face still white.
"Bloody stupid Ravenclaws," Draco muttered.
McDouglas closed her eyes. "Um, should I mention that I have a fear of heights?" her voice was tight and more than a little squeaky. Draco's eyes widened.
"You are not going to cry," he ordered. "It does nothing to help the situation."
"Bite me, I'll cry if I want to," she bit off, still shaking just a tad. Draco could feel the fine tremors as he gripped her around the waist, ensuring she held still. After all, they didn't know where the landing ended anymore.
"Dammit, McDouglas…" he started, before she interrupted.
"Do you have a handkerchief?" she demanded, eyes still squeezed tight shut.
"You are not going to cry!" he ordered again, starting to feel panicky himself.
"Just answer the question, do you have a handkerchief?" she said again, voice tight and barely controlled. And eyes still squeezed shut, fingers still tightly gripping his arms.
"Yes," he got out before she interrupted again.
"Lay it down next to us." When he just blinked in confusion, she exploded. "Dammit, Draco, I'm hanging on to my sanity by the tip of my fingers! Unless you want to go completely crazy, just do it!"
Eying her a little cautiously, Draco slowly released one hand from her waist, waited a beat to be sure she wouldn't move and risk falling off the non-existant stairway, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the square of white linen and bent to lay it near her right foot.
"Ok," she said and took a deep breath. She unclenched one hand, and fumbled in her own pocket, pulling out her want. "Ok," she repeated, and opened her eyes. She stared at him for a second, her dark eyes scared and determined and more than a little fascinating for some reasons he didn't care to examine, and then looked down. "Fiberous replicous!" Draco jumped as the handkerchief began to expand and lifted his feet to let it move underneath the two of them.
He heaved a sigh of relief. Brilliant. They were no longer staring down into thin air, the landing was now covered with a layer of linen.
"Ok, ok…" she was repeating, remaining fingers still tightly gripping his arm. "Ok, this is better. Ok."
Draco took a deep breath himself. "Not bad, McDouglas," he said. "Unfortunately, we appear to be stuck." He watched as she looked 'up' and then 'down', seeing nothing but blank space between them and the walls. By a stroke of incredibly bad luck, they weren't lined up with a single doorway, and with no stairs visible, they were effectively trapped.
"Oh boy," she said weakly.
**********
Cara sat, slumped back against the stone wall and stared out into the dark empty air. They were trapped until this bloody stair reappeared and moved again. Stupid kids. She'd hex off their ears when she found them.
Next to her, Draco was sitting, silent and stiff as well. Cara frowned. In fact, he seemed rather uncomfortably stiff, rather than his usual disapprovingly stiff.
She rolled her head to study him. His face was tight, sure enough. He looked over and glared at her. "Are you all right?" she asked, ignoring the now-customary uninviting look.
He looked down his nose at her. "Aside from being trapped on an invisible staircase with you?" he asked sardonically.
She was still studying him. "It's… your shoulder," she said out loud, as it clicked. "It hurts, doesn't it? Did you hurt it jumping?" She bit her lip. "I have all the healing potion in my bag…"
Draco snorted, looking away again. "I'm fine," he said dismissively.
"Uh-huh," she said skeptically. She reached over and deliberately poked him in what she suspected was a sore spot. Sure enough, he hissed a breath, and his head whipped around to glare at her again.
"Keep your hands to yourself," he ordered.
Cara frowned. "Is it just sore, or did you hurt it when you jumped?" she demanded, sitting forward and turning to face him. He glared at her. She glared back. And then, much to her shock, he answered.
"I did not hurt my shoulder when I jumped onto your bloody vanishing stair," he said through his teeth.
Cara nodded, thinking. "So it's something that's sore?" she asked.
"Why?" he demanded, eyes narrow and cold even in the dark.
"Turn around," she ordered, pushing back her sleeves, then sighing and pulling off the voluminous school robe. Damn thing always got in the way, she thought pushing up her sleeves. Draco was still glaring and eyeing her. She sighed. "My mother's a healer," she said. "Turn around."
He didn't move for a long moment, as she tried to stare him down. This was Draco Malfoy, the scariest damn boy in school, and she was ordering him to turn around. Boy, was she brave.
Finally, he eased around halfway. Cara let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. "Just hold still," she said, reaching out. She settled her hands on the sore shoulder, gently feeling for the tight muscles. She frowned. It was impossible to tell through the robe and school sweater.
"Take off your robe and sweater," she told him, still feeling. "I can't quite tell."
"Tell what?" he demanded yet again.
She flexed her fingers against his shoulder. "My mom's been teaching me some of the Muggle therapies she's been learning," she said. "They're for sore muscles."
He snorted. "Bloody idiot muggles," he muttered under his breath. But he moved to take off the robe, and then pulled his sweater over his head. Cara stared at his back, the white shirt gleaming in the dark.
She stretched out her hand and settled her fingers. His shoulder was warm through the thin shirt. "Muggles know a lot of useful things," she said as her fingers started to probe, just like her mother had taught. He hissed a breath as she found a tight knot. "Hold still." Slowly she pressed and rubbed, trying to loosen the muscle. "I mean…" her voice trailed off and she fell silent as his head dropped forward, telling her without words that what she was doing was helping.
She worked quietly then. His shoulder was strong and well-muscled beneath his shirt, with the faintest of ridges under his arm. She wondered what that was. Her fingers were beginning to ache, but she kept going, searching out every knot and working to loosen it. She moved on to the other shoulder, then his back. His head dropped farther forward, his hair pale and hanging forward, hiding his face.
Finally, her fingers were aching intensely, and she couldn't keep going. Despite the fact that she wanted to, that the feel of his back beneath her hands was strangely addictive. Reluctantly she lifted her hands and began to rub her sore joints.
He lifted his head, and slowly turned back around. He pulled his sweater over his head again, and leaned back against the wall, eyes avoiding hers. She watched him, curious. This was weird. He was Draco Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. She shouldn't be feeling… soft, not toward him.
The silence was broken by him. "Thanks," he said gruffly.
Cara couldn't explain the feeling that lit her up inside. It was… soft, she thought again. "You're welcome," she said in a nearly inaudible voice. She settled back next to him, back against the wall, arm barely brushing his. She'd have to think about this.
**********
Draco stared out into the darkness. They'd been trapped for hours now, and it looked like the staircase wasn't about to move any time soon.
Cara had fallen asleep, her head drooping until it came to rest against his shoulder. And surprisingly, he hadn't jabbed her with an elbow and made her move as he'd intended. Instead, he'd looked down at her face, eyes lidded and lips relaxed, and had merely settled her more comfortably. He'd even cautiously slid his arm about her, bringing her into the crook of his arm.
Now she was nestled warmly against his side. Glancing down, he saw her uniform skirt had ridden up above her knees. He hesitated a moment, and then reached and smoothed it down. Her legs were warm and smooth beneath his fingers and he took them away quickly. He pulled her robe closer and then over her, draping it over her as she slept against his side.
He stared out into the dark again. He wasn't sure what was happening. He wasn't even sure he liked it. But for the moment, he wasn't sure there was much else he could do. She shifted a little in her sleep, cuddling closer against him, and he closed his eyes, tipping his head back. Merlin, he was tired. And somehow, she felt… good.
His eyes began to get heavy. He hadn't been this relaxed since well before his father had died. Her fingers had worked magic on his shoulder, then his back. He started to slip into sleep, and his last thought was that he hoped they woke before the staircase moved.