Thankfully, after a few moments of proceeding down the slimy crawlspace on my hands and knees, the tunnel grew very rapidly larger, so much so that I could stand without even needing to duck my head. Thank Merlin. My robes were beginning to feel very grimy indeed.
Now, to a normal person such as myself, the Lumos spell I was currently employing with my wand created sufficient illumination to prevent oneself from running into other things. Or people. However, it seemed Malfoy was not as normal as I in this respect, because no sooner had he, too, stood up, than he trod quite heavily on my foot.
"Watch it!" I snapped. "You're not exactly a pixie, you know." I flounced onward, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling of swelling that now rocketed through my injured appendage.
I could practically hear Malfoy rolling his eyes. "My apologies, Mudblood," he sneered in a way that, of course, carried not the faintest trace of remorse. It seemed we were back to our less-than-civil treatment of one another.
I continued to walk forward, until I found, very suddenly, that I couldn't. I was plastered very uncomfortably against a wall of cold, wet stone. Splendid. A dead end. I knew exactly what dear old Draco was going to say…
"Keep going, why don't you?" he said irritably, stumbling right into me. Very predictable reaction, might I add.
"I would if I could, Draco," I retorted, shoving him back a step so that he wasn't quite so unnervingly close to me. "But it appears we've reached a dead end."
It was not the first time I'd found myself wondering if Dumbledore, despite being the most powerful wizard in the world, really was a bit of an idiot. Had he sent us on a wild goose chase on purpose? Argh.
"Well, get the hell out of the way, then!" He strong-armed me to the side, a touch too forcefully, sending my right shoulder reeling into the unforgiving stone. Ouch. Crummy bastard. That hurt.
"God, Granger, how could you miss this doorknob?" he sneered contemptuously. I didn't have much time to contemplate the weirdness of a doorknob being installed in a solid wall of rock, because he turned the little bit of brass just then. Causing the wall to fall away. Causing him to lunge helplessly forward. Causing him to be a complete git and grab onto the sleeve of my robes in a futile attempt to stop himself from falling. Causing me to be dragged down with him. Bloody hell.
We then slid down a long expanse of chilly, wet stone at an unnervingly rapid rate. I jerked my sleeve out of Malfoy's grasp and tried to maneuver as we slithered along so that I wasn't melded to him with the great speed we were experiencing. I actually managed to get a little bit ahead of him.
Looking back, that was a bit of a mistake.
It seemed like we'd covered a kilometer of hidden slide by the time our own momentum threw us unceremoniously off of a ledge, onto yet more stone.
I landed in a very painful spread-eagled position. Immediately after which my companion saw fit to use me as a landing pad.
"Get the hell off me, Malfoy!" I groaned, his weight squeezing the air from my lungs exactly like toothpaste out of a tube. It struck me momentarily how funny I would find this situation later, seeing as how it was a complete reversal of the earlier fiasco on the Hogwarts Express.
He didn't move just then, and I was beginning to feel very awkward. The pressure of a masculine body sprawled on top of Hermione was not only a very new experience, but also one that she really did not need at that particular time. Not to mention that the proximity of the Ferret-that-Was caused a very noticeable spike of that accursed cologne/pheromone/whatever the hell it was, directly into my very unprotected nostrils. Whew.
If I ever find out that heavenly scent was actually cologne, I will personally send a large box of chocolates to the manufacturer. Bloody Merlin. If the very good-smelling male form atop me was not, in fact, Draco Malfoy, it was pretty much a given that I would've gone out of my mind with lust.
However, it was, unfortunately, the Ice Prince that I was dealing with. No fun for Hermione.
"I DON'T HAVE ALL BLOODY DAY! GET THE HELL AWAY BEFORE I HACK OFF YOUR DONG!" I finally shrieked, shoving at him with all my might. I felt a slight blush rise in my cheeks; where on earth did that come from? I don't think I had ever referenced that particular part of the male anatomy in my entire life. I shuddered slightly. I suppose having two teenage boys for best friends does have some ill effects.
Malfoy, meanwhile, seemed to get the picture quite clearly, because he scrambled awkwardly to remove himself from me. It would appear that he was taking my threat seriously. Cute.
I painstakingly dragged myself to my feet, trying to ignore the aching little protests my body brought up as I did so. I wrinkled my nose as I regarded my slightly dirty uniform, and brushed off a particularly large bit of muck. Completely by accident, the offending grime landed squarely on Draco's still rather clean-looking sleeve. Gulp.
"Idiot wench," he growled, giving the slime a look of utmost revulsion. "That had better not stain."
"Oh, my apologies, Draco!" I squealed girlishly, picking the chunk off of his shirt and thoroughly ignoring his loud huff of annoyance. It seemed my plan to irk the Slytherin was right on target.
"All better!" I chirped, grabbing his elbow and hauling him up to a standing position. "Now let's hurry up and see what's down here, so I can go to bed."
To my well-disguised surprise, he followed me without comment. We rounded a bend in the corridor, and, stepping into the bright orange light of a wall-mounted torch, I saw something that made me give a little shriek of astonishment.
"What? What is it?" he asked in shockingly civil confusion, staring at me as though I'd suddenly sprouted a third arm. Truthfully, it wouldn't have surprised me much, given the already very high strangeness factor of the day.
"The kitchens!" I exclaimed in amazement, rushing over to still life that hung on the opposite wall. A bowl of rather mouthwatering fruit looked innocent enough, but I knew better.
The day had just gained another few weirdness points.
I reached up and tickled the green pear, which had been painted with little droplets of moisture on it. Just looking at it made me remember how hungry I was, considering I'd entirely rejected the food at the Welcoming Feast for fear of making myself sick.
The pear giggled in a way that actually was quite eerie, before turning into a handle. Beautiful. I grabbed it and pulled with what little might I retained after the unexpected events following my Head Girl induction. So not much might at all. However, it was enough.
The painting swung wide open, and I leapt back out of the way to avoid being knocked over. Of course, jumping backward placed me right in the spot already occupied by Draco Malfoy. I scampered away from him rather quickly, not eager to give him yet another reason to barrage me with insults.
Before we even entered the kitchen, I could smell things baking. Things like ginger cookies and lemon cake. Things that, consequently, made my mouth water, and my very painfully empty stomach gave a loud grumble of longing.
"Come on, Malfoy!" I urged, turning around. He was staring at the newly-revealed doorway with a slack, stunned sort of expression. It was quite obvious to me that he wouldn't be moving on his own for some time, so I took the initiative and yanked him into the kitchen by his tie. Once I'd successfully dragged him over the threshold, I rolled my eyes and let go, after he seemed to come to himself enough to make a few desperate, choking sort of noises.
The very instant we entered, no less than twenty tiny, skinny little house-elves crowded around us. Seemingly unfazed by the fact that it was about ten o'clock at night, they all grinned obligingly at us both. Mere seconds later, Malfoy and I found ourselves in possession of a hefty tray of sweets each.
Despite my vehemence that house-elves should not be made to work in places such as the Hogwarts Kitchens, my excruciating hunger addled my brain somewhat. I lost all self-control, and put all my efforts into fervently devouring a particularly delicious mound of frosted teacakes.
Malfoy, meanwhile, looked very unimpressed. I remembered that he was probably quite used to house-elves. I cast a look back at him just in time to see him toss several cute little gingerbread cookies to the floor and grind them beneath his heel.
"I hate gingerbread," Malfoy said snidely, intent on turning the fruits of the poor house-elves labor into veryfragrant dust.
"Draco!" I hissed, smacking him smartly on the shoulder with a napkin. "Would it kill you to pretend to be human every once in a while?" I glared at him for a moment, before recalling the threat that had been so very effective previously. I leant very close to him in order to whisper in his ear, not keen on giving the house-elves a view of my nasty side.
"I'm willing to bet on there being a very large number of cold, sharp knives in this kitchen," I breathed ominously. "Clean it up."
He jerked his head round to stare at me. "You don't scare me, Mudblood," he whispered venomously, but I noticed his eyes betrayed a hint of panic.
"Excuse me," I asked the nearest house-elf very sweetly. "Would you mind bringing me your most effective cutting utensil?" I smiled encouragingly as the surprised little creature went toddling off to fulfill this latest whim.
My dorm-mate paled very rapidly and looked momentarily conflicted, before crouching down. I relished the sight of Draco Rich-as-Sin Malfoy dropping to his hands and knees and shoveling the remnants of the rejected cookies back onto his platter. Such extraordinary power stems from the natural male tendency to protect his private parts at any cost. I figured he recalled the little incident on the train, as well as believed my impure blood to carry the sort of craziness necessary to castrate him.
I smiled with satisfaction as I bit into a very tasty lemon bar. It also did my heart good to notice how much more efficient Draco suddenly became at cleaning, once a squat house-elf toting a rather sizeable meat-cleaver drew into view.