~Chapter Three: The Balfoy Blood~
"You're too bony," complained Hermione.
"I am not. Anyway, your hair's too frizzy. It's getting in my face."
They shifted around, trying to get comfortable. "Ow!"
"What is it now?"
"You speared me with your shoulderblade."
"Oh. Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.
"If you don't shut up, I will never get to sleep."
"Well, you're the one who started talking."
"That's not true, I--"
"Shut. Up."
There was silence from behind him, so Draco guessed that she'd finally followed his advice.
"I think your wand just poked me in the bum."
"I didn't even move!"
"Just move your wand, will you?"
"Is this better?" He moved it farther back in his pocket.
"No! Now it hurts even more!"
Draco prided himself on his evil laugh, and this was one of his better days for evil laughter. Thus he laughed evilly.
"Just...go to sleep, Malfoy."
Draco listened hard, to see if he could glean some information about their surroundings, but nothing was forthcoming except the rustle of leaves as Granger shifted once again. Then he did hear something. Unfortunately, it wasn't very helpful in discovering where they were.
"Are you crying, Granger?"
"No," she said in a tear-laden voice. "Of course not."
As much as he wanted to leave her to her misery, Draco needed her help to figure out where the hell they were, and how to get back to Hogwarts. At least, that's what he told himself. "You are crying, Granger. Don't try and deny it."
"So what if I am?"
"If you are, I want to know why."
"Why do you care?"
"I don't! I mean," he stopped himself. Okay, bad idea. He was already on her bad side. "Why don't you just tell me?" Damn, he came off sounding sort of grumpy.
"Because I'm not crying."
"Yes, you are."
"I'm not!" she said, beginning to sob. He could feel her shaking against his back.
When Pansy was crying, she tended to tackle Draco and practically smother him under her bawling bulk, while he awkwardly patted her back and hoped to god it would be over soon. Typically, though, he was not accustomed to having to comfort crying people, let alone crying girls. "Um...don't worry?" he offered. "It'll be all right?"
"Oh, that's so comforting, Malfoy."
"Look, um...you're pretty resourceful, I guess, and...I can be helpful. Sometimes. If I want to be. Which I do. So I can get out of here, you know, and there's, you know, no way I'm gonna be trapped here with you for the rest of my life, so, I think there's maybe a kind of, you know, good chance we'll get home." Wow. "Plus my dad is gonna be pretty pissed."
Granger was silent for a little while, and then she said, "Just...go to sleep, Malfoy."
He was only too happy to comply.
*********
The fog had not lifted. Bloody wonderful. "What now, Granger?"
"How am I supposed to know?"
"You know it all, don't you?"
"We need some food," she said, apparently ignoring his remark. "And we need to get back home."
"And we can't see anything," supplied Draco helpfully.
"Yes, I know that. But we're not going to get anywhere by staying here."
"Wait a minute. You're saying we have to walk? As in, no transportation?"
"We'll have transportation."
"What?"
"Our feet."
"What if that portal opens again once we've left?"
"Better we miss it than starve to death."
Once again, her logic was unswerving. Dammit. "All right, fine. Let's go."
"Wait!"
"What now?"
"We have to be able to keep track of one another. We're all we've got here, after all."
"So...?"
"So...take my hand, Malfoy."
Personally, Draco was all for losing track of Granger, but she had a point. Rolling his eyes and sighing resignedly, he held out his hand. Then, after nothing happened, he began to feel around in the air for it. It would be around waist-level...or would it? He didn't Granger at all. Maybe she would stick out her hand at shoulder-level. He raised his hand, and found her shoulder.
"Malfoy...?"
"Yes...?"
"Where's your hand?"
"Your shoulder?"
"That's not my shoulder..."
Recoiling as if he'd been burned, Draco rubbed his hand on his robes. "Ugh."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Granger. Just put your hand out at waist-level, will you?" Seconds later, they found one another's respective hands and clasped them together. Then they began to walk.
And walk.
And walk.
And waaaaaalk.
"Malfoy, can't you keep your hand from sweating?" asked Granger testily.
"What are you talking about? It's foggy! It's wet!"
"Ugh..."
"Ah, the grunting again." Draco could tell that she almost grunted in response, but restrained herself at the last instant. "Ha."
"I don't understand. We've been walking for an hour. Why haven't we found anything yet?"
"I don't know, Granger. Maybe there's nothing to find."
"Of course there's something to find, there has to be something to find! We just...haven't found it yet."
"Brilliant observation, Granger."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"You know, I'm starting to think this is just a--owwwwwww..." They stopped walking.
"Just a 'ow'?"
"We found something."
"Oh?" said Granger excitedly. "What? And how?"
"I think it's a tree. And I found it with my nose." Draco reached up to feel his nose. It wasn't broken, but it was wet. Hoping that his nose was not, in fact, running, he brought his fingers up within millimeters of his eye. "I'm bleeding!"
"Suck it up."
"I'm bleeding! This is not good!"
"Get a grip, Malfoy."
"Okay," he said cruelly, bringing his bloody hand down and grasping her hand.
"Ew!"
"Now you know how I feel!"
"Not quite. My nose isn't bleeding."
"Ugh."
"Grunting now, eh? Not quite as primitive as you thought?"
"Shut up, Granger. Do you have any cloth?"
"Um...yes..."
"Well, give it here, would you!"
A thin piece of cotton was pressed into his hand. Draco could feel the embroidery on the edges as he put it onto his poor bloody nose. "I cad't believe I'b carryig this," he said as he pinched his nose shut. "People are goig to thig I'b gay."
"What people?!"
"This sugs."
"Tell me about it. My hankie's going to be stained with your disgusting blood!"
"I'll have you doe that I carry the Balfoy blood id by veids, ad it is, id fact, quite doble blood."
"I cannot believe you're bringing that up now. Besides, it won't be in your veins for long, will it, if you don't stop bleeding?"
"What if I dod't stop bleedig?"
"Then you die, and I dance on your grave. No, scratch that, I tango on your grave. In a red dress and stiletto heels."
Draco pictured this. Hmm...not bad... "Dod't stop bleedig, dod't stop bleedig," he chanted to himself quietly.
"What was that?"
"Dothig. Let's keep goig. I'b hugry."
*********
Authors' Note: Yeah, this is still a great deal of fun to write, especially the part where Malfoy's pidchig his dose. We're having way too much fun torturing them, aren't we? Yeah, we are...
Anyway, anyone who reviews gets embroidered, Malfoy-blood-stained balloon animals.