After midnight part one
Chapter four
Hermione was ready to spit venom she was so angry, and Draco seemed completely unfazed, shushing her like a silly little girl.
She stood impatiently, crammed into her involuntary hiding spot, and listened for any sign of an approaching Filch.
Despite his tired face bearing a plale flush of exertion, or perhaps disgust at the close proximity, his body seemed to radiate a cool air. She shivered slightly, unsure if the cold was really the cause.
She heard Filch a corridor or two over.
Without warning Draco's cool, pale hand was covering her mouth. She started in protest of the sudden violation, but Draco caught her eyes with his silver ones. He raised his finger to his pale lips.
Hermione huffed crossly, not daring to move his hand away. Instead she watched his pale, tired eyes dart away, looking sickly and desperate. She'd seen his mounting stress all year, of course, but seeing him so close she was almost pressed up against him, it struck her quite how unwell he looked.
The dark circles beneath his eyes were almost corpse-like, and his silvery eyes held a desperation she had never seen there before.
"Is he in the transfiguration classroom again" croaked Filch.
At this rate she wouldn't make it to bed before the sun came up. She quashed the temptation to tap her foot impatiently. What was he doing out of bed at this hour anyway? He hadn't come from the library, she was certain. He'd been walking in the opposite direction.
He was looking rather shabby as well, considering his usual smart elegance. His robes looked rumpled and unclean, and his hair, which she was used to seeing shining blond and perfectly set, was hanging dull and lank around his tired eyes.
Hermione felt the cool hand withdraw from her face and took a shaking breath of relief.
What would she do if she was caught? What if Filch gave her detention? He surely would. There was no excuse for her being out so late, and with Draco Malfoy of all people. Filch would probably think that they had been up to something. How on earth could she possibly pass her exams if she spent her last day to prepare cleaning bedpans or pickling rats brains?
She would fail. And if she failed this year it would definitely put her at a huge disadvantage when she got around to sitting her N.E.W.T.s next year. Would she be able to catch up? Perhaps she could take some extra credit, but would that even be enough? What was the percentage of this years exams on the final N.E.W.T.s scores? Was it 15 percent? No, that didn't sound right. Far too low.
She found her self wishing she had brought the notes she'd taken when McGonagall had explained the exams to them.
She was shaken from her frenzied musing by the sudden loud clunk of a heavy latch close by. Too close by.
Speaking of things close by, Draco appeared to be pressing her even further into their little hidey hole.
With his chest up against her she could feel just how strong and lithe he was. Almost as cool and unyielding as the wall behind her.
His unkempt clothes and messy hair did little to disguise his innate good looks. Not that she thought of him that way. After all, she told herself, it was perfectly fine for her to admire him, even if he was a selfish prat.
Why was he out so late, she wondered again. Perhaps he was on his way back from a nighttime dalliance, but if that were the case then why not do it in the comfort of his common room? After all surely any one Draco Malfoy would choose to date would be in Slytherin too. And if there was someone he was seeing where were they now? And why was he now here looking over her and not them?
Perhaps Harry was right? Maybe he was up to something unpleasant. She wouldn't put it past him. But why was he looking so very unwell?
She searched his face for some clue, feeling his cool breath play across the baby hairs on her forehead.
He turned and their eyes met again, a look of surprise flitting across his handsome face.
She looked quickly away feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. She wondered what time it was. It must be well past one o'clock by now. She thought again of all the studying she still had to do. How would she ever get it all done?
Filch's footsteps drew closer. She thought he must be just metres away from them now. Did Filch know that there was a trick tapestry here? He might do. After all he definitely knew about at least three of the school's secret passages, and hardly anyone knew about those. What if Mrs Norris could smell them, or else hear their laboured breathing with her huge ears? Would she find them and lead Filch to them? If she found them she almost certainly would, and then it would all be over. She would be given detention and she wouldn't have time to finish her revision, and then she would fail her transfiguration and arithmancy and charms exams and then she would fail her N.E.W.T.s and her parents would be so disappointed!
She could hear Filch's wheezing breath so clearly now that he might have been behind the tapestry with them.
She closed her eyes, silently praying. Her hand found Draco's hard chest, holding on for dear life.