Author's Note: Thank you for the love on this story! I know it's a little different so I really appreciate everyone for reading and especially those who have left their feedback. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.
Hermione's horse pawed the ground as she paced the hard, cracked ground within Double-Draw's designated area for the day. He had kept his distance since they had awoken that morning, and a hot flush crept to her cheeks at the way she had sort of almost propositioned him.
Clearly, he was no longer interested.
He looked groggy as if he hadn't slept well, or perhaps he'd been into the moonshine again. And so Hermione, following his lead, had given him a wide berth as well. But that didn't mean she was willing to let him entirely out of her sight.
While he had been insistent they would split the treasure, fresh from evading the chase of the sheriff's guards, Hermione suspected the story would be different without the hot rush of adrenaline.
She wanted to trust him, and to believe his words – but the last time they had started to get close, he had ended up threatening her life and stealing her research.
Not that she had been entirely innocent in that exchange, either.
Sighing, she carried on. The land to the east was an incredibly vague measure of distance, especially given Kingswood was one of the largest towns in the area. It could take days to find any sign of this well, and for all she knew it could be beneath layers of packed earth. Her horse could be standing on it right now.
She cast a furtive glance in the direction where she could see the vague outline of Double-Draw in the scorching sun. Soon it would be unbearably hot, and there was no cover in sight.
If Double-Draw truly meant it when he said he would share the treasure with her, she ought to consider the reverse if she happened to stumble on the gold while he was preoccupied, despite that the idea of keeping it all offered a certain appeal. And besides, he would hunt her down and give her a bullet to the head if he ever found her.
She would be best off to simply cooperate, take her half, and then part ways with the outlaw on neutral terms. Not that Hermione would have said no, should he show interest in another shared night between them, before they parted.
But no matter.
They had to find the blasted treasure first.
Draco pulled the surveyor's map from his bag as he stopped to give his horse water, his eyes quickly scanning the area left to explore.
A pit of dread had settled in Draco's stomach at the thought that he might have already passed over it. Realistically, they could cover twice as much ground with two people, but if the well was truly hidden, it wouldn't matter.
For good measure, Draco jumped and stomped hard on the ground where he stood. It felt entirely solid, and unless he intended to break his knees and ankles by stomping across the whole area, it wouldn't be a viable way to find anything.
His eyes narrowed in thought. There had to be some evidence of a well, or a cache, or a pail even –
Draco froze, and his gaze instinctively swept to where Hermione was trailing around some distance away, her shoulders slumped in dismay.
He'd barely said two words to her that morning, not wanting to distract himself. It had been bad enough he had fought with himself over joining her in bed all night, and had subsequently drank himself into a stupor on the third growler, managing only a couple hours of sleep before the sun was up.
The pail. His gaze flickered to the pail he had carried around for his horse for over a year now. He had found it sitting around, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, to the east of Kingswood.
He couldn't remember exactly where, of course, but –
He scanned the map again. They hadn't explored that far yet. He dug in his bag for the bit of charcoal he had been using to track his progress and crossed off the area he hadn't reached yet today.
Then he packed his things and mounted his horse.
Hermione's head snapped to the right as Double-Draw mounted his horse and took off. Cursing to herself, she adjusted her bandana and raced after him.
If he had found something there was no chance she wasn't going to be there.
"What are you doing?" she hissed when she caught up. Double-Draw was standing on the hard earth beside his horse, looking deep in thought.
He held up a hand, his head tilted towards the ground. His horse was stomping about, creating a ruckus, and a breath caught in Hermione's throat as she dismounted and stood beside him.
"I found this pail," he said, in no more than a whisper, "around here. About a year ago. I only just remembered."
"You think it came from a well," Hermione breathed.
"Could have," he said with a shrug. "But it's better than combing this entire plain with nothing but a hope."
"You're right," Hermione said. She lifted one boot and slammed it hard into the earth, cringing as the impact jarred through to her hip. "Do you really think it will sound differently? Even after so many years' worth of dust and dirt piled up on top?"
"I hope so," he said, squinting as he looked up at the sun, and then adjusted his stetson lower. "Again, it's better than nothing."
With a shrug Hermione set to work scouring her area, one eye fixed firmly on Double-Draw some distance away, and as the sun climbed higher into the sky, the air grew sweltering. She could see the heat rising from the packed and cracked earth, and by late afternoon she was so exhausted from the heat she had to stop. The horses had been left with the pail of water, and she made her way back towards the meeting spot.
Double-Draw arrived a few minutes later, drinking what seemed to be the last of his water, dust mingled with sweat on his face.
"No luck," he said, breathing heavy. "And I'm out of water. I'm not going to chance heading into Kingswood in case the sheriff has pieced everything together, but we should be able to sneak some from one of the houses on the outskirts."
"Fine," Hermione said with a shrug. "I'm nearly out, too."
"We'll have to carry on tomorrow," he said, fixing her with a hard stare. "I'll mark the sections we've covered today when we get back to the shack."
"See if we can't find some food, too," Hermione suggested. He nodded absently, scanning the horizon, then stepped towards his horse and secured his pack and supplies.
"Let's go, then," he muttered, swinging himself up onto his horse and taking off. Rolling her eyes, Hermione hurried to follow.
They had managed to find water and food for an evening meal easily enough, and since Hermione had been dismayed to learn he had finished the third growler of moonshine by himself the night before, Draco swiped a growler of ale from the house they had robbed, its occupants presumably still in town for the day.
So after their meal, Draco had cleaned out two flagons and poured them both a cup of ale.
"Tell me something," Hermione said, gesturing with her ale. "How do you always beat me everywhere? And how did you always know where I was going?"
Draco shrugged, not wanting to divulge his secrets, although he supposed he would be leaving Kingswood regardless at this point. "I know the town a lot better than you. I heard most of the same tips as you – in fact, I heard more of them because I have a network in town, while you operate alone."
"So you deliberately selected the ones you knew I was going for, in order to thwart me," she accused, eyes narrowed.
Draco shrugged, offering her a petulant smirk.
"You rodent," she snapped. "You're like a sneaky ferret. You couldn't have just –"
"I know," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I'm rotten. I get it." He chewed his tongue, then took a long swig of his ale. "And for the record, you'll never beat me. The only reason you even found this distillery shack before me that day was because I had a better tip and knew this would likely yield very little."
"Okay, so how?" she hissed, her brown eyes flashing as they settled on his.
He gave her a lazy grin. "The rooftops, dear Hermione. I have spent years learning my way across the roofs, and arranging my route just as I want it. Where I can and can't jump, where I can climb, where I've needed to haul up a plank to get across. I can get anywhere in Kingswood in minutes."
She stared at him, her mouth half open, and Draco's eyes fell on her lips for a moment.
"I don't recommend you try it, though," he added, clearing his throat. "Lots of roofs in town with rotten boards. I reckon you could hurt yourself."
She scowled at him until she had finished her drink, then poured herself another glass. Finally she whispered, as if to herself, "the rooftops."
"The rooftops," Draco repeated, tossing back the last of his own mug. "You ought to be careful. The last time you drank too much around me…" He smirked.
She raised a brow, staring at him. "I'm the one who needs to be careful? Obviously, I offered last night, didn't I?"
"You offered to share the bed," Draco clarified, gesturing with his cup. "Which you'll note, I didn't have a problem keeping to myself, even having drunk half a growler of moonshine."
"So I don't need to be careful if you have so little interest –"
"You said to share the bed, there was no mention of interest!" Draco said, staring at her with raised brows. "How was I supposed to know what you meant?"
He had read it all over her face the night before, of course, but it was so much fun to get her riled up.
Her cheeks tinged red, and she glared at him once more. "Well, if you had read between the lines," she said, looking humiliated.
"I'm a simple outlaw, Hermione," Draco said, with mocking innocence. "I so infrequently spend time with company, you know."
"Right," she snorted, "I'm sure that's true."
"So if you want me in your bed tonight, you're going to have to ask," Draco snickered. Her face dropped, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Otherwise, like I said yesterday, I'm more than fine sleeping in the grass outside."
"You're welcome to sleep in the bed," she sniffed, "but I'm not going to ask. You're irritating enough without that boost to the ego."
"Well then," Draco murmured. "Perhaps I will. Sleep in the bed, that is, and nothing more."
He poured himself another glass of ale, offering her a sardonic smile.
"Fine," she seethed, taking a long drink. "Do that, or don't, I'm not bothered."
Her logic wasn't making sense, and Draco suspected the ale had begun to hit her. He also suspected they were both talking one another in circles. "Then I'm not bothered, either. But you're more than welcome to ask if you want to do more than share the bed."
"No," she said, her tone airy. "You've made it clear that this is a business arrangement, and once we find the treasure you'll be gone."
"All the more reason to have some fun while you can," Draco said, flickering his brows.
Her expression was haughty again. "It isn't as if I struggle."
"Well, neither do I," Draco clipped. She didn't need to know he hadn't met a woman he'd been interested in for a long time. And that he wasn't the type to visit the saloon for companionship.
"Fine, it's settled then," Hermione said, taking another long swig, and with a start, Draco realized her fresh cup was half gone already. "Since neither of us are interested in sex, we can be perfectly reasonable and share the one and only bed, without it turning into a problem."
Draco snickered and shook his head. He didn't remember her being so amusing the last time they had drunk together, but she had been far more melancholy that night. "I never said I wasn't interested in sex."
She threw her hands up in exasperation.
Draco pulled the map from his bag, wanting to make note of the area they had covered that day before he got too far into the ale and forgot. She glowered as she watched, but then her expression softened as her eyes fixed on the map.
"Where did you find the pail?" she asked, her finger hovering over the area.
"Around here," Draco said, grabbing her finger to drop it down at the approximate site. "And this is where we were today." He navigated her finger into a small circle around the first region. "Tomorrow we'll continue further north and see if we can't find something."
"What if it isn't there?" she asked, her face falling. "Or it's buried and we've walked right over top of it."
"Then at least you've been able to spend all this time with me," Draco said, flashing her a grin.
She raised an unimpressed brow but didn't retract her finger from within his clenched palm. Testing the waters, Draco ran his thumb across the back of her hand, then upwards to take hold of her wrist, his fingers playing along her arm.
She stared at him, subconsciously moistening her lips. Then she tore her arm away and sunk back into her seat, tossing back the remains of her drink. Draco snickered and took a swig of his own.
"Suppose I'd rather the gold," she finally said, folding her arms across her chest. She removed her hat and tossed it onto the table, her curly hair wild.
Draco grasped his chest, feigning a wounded heart. "You'd rather money over my company."
"Yes," she said, her tone dismissive as she poured a third glass.
Draco leaned forward, meeting her gaze. "What if you could have both?"
She scrunched up her nose, but her chocolate eyes remained fixed on his. "Your company is… rather irritating." Her eyes belied her words as they dropped to his lips.
"So if I left Kingswood and went north," he said, swirling the remains of his drink. "You would go elsewhere?"
"Do you know what lies to the north?" she asked, raising a brow again. Draco nodded, finishing his drink. "Then… maybe."
"Using me for my navigational prowess," Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "Cutthroat, aren't you?"
"Says the man who has threatened to kill me multiple times, and held a gun to my head twice," she mused. "Of the two of us, you're the infamous bandit."
"And you know I'm not actually that bad," Draco said, pointing a finger at her. He finished his drink, but something in her words had settled into his soul in an unnerving way. He didn't feel like drinking anymore. "Think about it. We don't make a terrible team, you know."
She shrugged. "I'll consider it."
"Fine," Draco said, rising from his seat. "But since I was so kindly offered a spot in the bed, I'm going to sleep."
She blinked twice, then stared down at her drink. She tossed the last of it back, then stood as well. "You're leaving?"
"Yes," Draco said, dropping his hat on the table beside hers. He tugged his bandana over his head, and set it on top of his hat. He removed his boots, leaving them in the kitchen. Then he made his way into the next room, divesting himself of his weapons and stacking them in a pile on the nightstand.
Hermione followed him to the doorway, her brow furrowed as she chewed her lip.
"I hope you don't mind if I sleep nude."
Her eyes narrowed, even as her cheeks flushed red again. "Actually I do mind."
Draco fixed her with a stare, his lips pursed. "You didn't mind last time. And you said you didn't care about sex, so…" He trailed off, slipping the buttons of his vest, then his shirt, and then he unfastened his trousers. He turned his head to the side. "You know, I don't mind if you watch, but you could participate."
She jolted, having been staring blankly. "Please leave your shorts on."
"Fine," Draco said, letting out a long sigh. "And for the record, if you touch a single one of my weapons you'll find my Colt to your head for the third time."
"I'm not going to touch your weapons," she hissed, loosening the tie on her own bandana. "But it goes both ways."
"If I wanted your daggers I would have taken them already," Draco said, waving a dismissive hand. "Although if I had a third holster, I would probably take your pistol."
She spluttered, glaring at him.
"Relax," he drawled, "I remember you being more fun than this." Huffing, she turned away as she undressed, and Draco rolled his eyes as he settled into the bed. "Remember, I've seen you naked?"
"That doesn't mean you're going to see again," she said.
Draco felt his eyes slide to the creamy skin of her back, watching her hands as she tugged those tight trousers from her legs, and he remembered the way her skin had felt beneath his hands. He swallowed, shifting himself beneath the covers.
In the partial darkness, Draco could see as she undressed to her underwear, then slid into the bed, her back still facing him.
He remained on his back, his gaze flickering to her bare shoulder. "Goodnight," he said.
"Goodnight," she returned, looking over her shoulder to see him.
Draco was so aware of her he had to shift several times to get comfortable. Everything within him screamed to reach out and touch her – he didn't think she would object.
But he had given her such a hard time, and she no longer appeared interested, so maybe he had lost his window. Then she rolled onto her other side, fixing him with her gaze. Draco's eyes dropped to the swell of her breasts just visible above the line of the blanket.
"You aren't going to pretend you shifted over in your sleep, are you?" she asked, her eyes half-lidded. "Am I going to wake up with you poking me?"
Draco smirked, even as he sat on his hands. "No promises."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, you're being awfully weird about not having sex."
"You're the one who implied you don't need me," he said with a shrug. His voice dropped to a whisper and he carried on, "I told you, you only need to ask."
"I'm not going to ask," she breathed. Her gaze met his in the dark, the light of the moon coming through the window making her seem paler than usual.
Draco felt another jolt to the chest but he forced a smirk. Perhaps she was never truly going to open up to him. Maybe he didn't want her to go north with him after all. He hoped they would find the treasure tomorrow so he could go. "Then I hope you have a nice sleep."
He rolled onto his far side, facing away from her, and he could have sworn his body's awareness of her grew even stronger, every instinct screaming as he exposed his back to her.
He heard the sound of her breathing, closer than he had anticipated, but she didn't say anything more. He pressed his eyes shut, hoping sleep would be merciful and claim him soon.