Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Setting: goblet of fire canon
Word Count: 470
Tag: for #dhrfavorites jan 2016 favorite canon moment
"You must want your death wish fulfilled, Muggle-born." Hermione Granger could almost feel his sneer go along her spine. It must be the dull hum still echoing in her ears and her tiredness that lowered her guard; her hair whipped her cheek as she wildly slashed her wand into his throat.
Draco Malfoy kept his smirk and with his father's flare, placed his fists on his waist and pushed his velvet cloak back from his black attire, the silver M that was his tie bar briefly reflected in the moonlight.
Hermione kept her wand in his face and used her other wrist to wipe the water from her chin. "Lost your way to your silver tower?"
"A tower would be too dramatic among commoners, would it?"
"The Malfoy's without their pureblood theatrics? Did you forget to bring your fortress tent?" Hermione didn't know why she was still standing there with her holey pyjamas and why he was comfortable to have a wand stabbing into his throat in the middle of a 'civil' conversation.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and rubbed the spot between his brows, "Would it ease your surprise if I told you it's with the cleaner elves?"
Hermione bristled at the mention of the enslaved creatures and Malfoy's smirk grew. "Why do you think I care anything about you?" Hermione was a quick study, and if he was cynical, so could she: her comment was the mirror of his disdain and his eyes flashed.
He had her backed against the tree and her wrist twisted so it became had to breathe with her own wand arching her chin up. "Get back to your foster family and have the lot follow you at your heels just like they've been doing since you lot started your education. Like a pack of… feeble cubs."
"That could crush you under our feet whenever we want?" She tried to wrestle her hand free, but the more she did, the tighter the ring on his finger dug into her skin.
"Precisely. Right after we bite down on your ankles and you struggle one last time before you die from the venom."
"Get the hell away from me." It would be never when she would admit that he was right: when the lions hunt, they aimed to kill abruptly while the venomous poised to prolong the agony of the defeated. And she, out in the open without her pack, was the easiest target since the biblical mother's weakness.
"It would hurt my ego if my favorite dilution went," Malfoy drew her wand across her throat with deliberate slowness, "…and got herself killed, would it?"
Hermione stepped uncomfortably up to him, thinking he was going to back away, "Good to know you cared."
Malfoy's nose brushed at the tip of hers, "Why do you think I do?"
A/N: "Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?" He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them. "What's that supposed to mean?" said Hermione defiantly. "Granger, they're after Muggles," said Malfoy. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around… they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.
I would like to think that he would have forewarned her and this would be their little inside joke