Draco
Her anger is tangible. I'm sure if I looked at her, her magic would be sparking off of her. Out of my periphery, I see her pacing along the shore, her hands running through her curls, "I can't believe you!" My alpha recoils at her anger. I hate upsetting her – no, my alpha hates upsetting her. And if she's an omega… it makes sense as to why.
"Granger, I said he was safe. You just have to get him," I sigh and catch my broom.
"Wait, how did you even manage to get him? He hardly ever leaves the common room!" She demands, giving me a fierce glare.
"I could tell you," I say with a sly smile, transfiguring a chair and holding out the broom to her, "but where's the fun in that? Now, go fetch your familiar from the lake, Granger." I only need her to be motivated, not heartbroken. The orange "cat" on the buoy is nothing but a transfigured block of wood that'll soon turn back. Despite our past and what she may think of me, I could not bring myself to do something so cruel to her..
She stomps up to me and rips the broom from my hand, "I have half a mind to poison your pumpkin juice," she all but growls out.
"Just get your cat," I settle into the chair and lean back. With the work we've done, I know it's not an unrealistic distance for her. I just think she's not had the proper motivation until now.
"I can't believe you'd put a poor, defenseless cat in the middle of a lake! And not just any lake, but Black Lake! What if–"
"I assure you, Granger, he's unharmed. Nor is he in the middle of the lake," he gives me a flat look, "But time's running out. Hurry and get him before it's too late." Before the fake cat turns back into a piece of wood.
I can hear her curse under her breath and fight the smirk that wants to play out on my lips. She straddles the broom and I have half the mind to ask her about shorts before I think better of it. It's not my concern what's under her skirt. Even if I want to sink my–
She kicks off the ground and gradually ascends, coming to a stop about five feet in the air.
"Focus," I remind her firmly, "turn your anger and anxiety into energy and go get Crookshanks." I watch as she settles herself on the broom, focusing on the green buoy. I know tricking her like this is a one-time thing. She won't be fooled about Crookshanks again. All I can do is hope she's successful in getting to the buoy and back so she can prove to herself that she can fly a broom.
Slowly but surely, the broom inches forward. I find myself holding my breath. All of Hogwarts knows that Black Lake isn't the safest, but it's not like she's going out to the middle of it. It's an easy enough swim for me if she does fall in.
As Hermione reaches the buoy, I stand up and shout, "that's it, Granger!" while applauding as relief and pride fill me. She can fly beyond a few feet with a steady broom and no random dips and perfect posture. She can fly.
"Malfoy! This isn't Crookshanks!" She shouts back and maneuvers a shaky turn.
"No, it's not!" I call out, "just come back. I'll explain everything!"
She glances back before her face scrunches up in a frown and she glares at me from her spot on the broom, "a bloody block of wood?!" She yells at me.
I shrug nonchalantly, allowing myself to smirk in response. However, without the immediate motivation of rescuing her beloved familiar, Granger's broom becomes noticeably shakier on her way back, "c'mon Granger, regain control of the broom," I instruct her.
"I am!" She snaps back, but as her attention is diverted away from the broom to our conversation, the broom abruptly drops out from under her.
"Hermione!" I shout out as she plummets into the water, a splash swallowing her. I quickly kick off my shoes and unbutton my shirt, leaving me in just my undershirt and trousers as I sprint into the water until I'm waist-deep and dive in. My heart is racing while my alpha chants Hermione's name. I'm sure she can swim, but what if she doesn't? Or if she is struggling?
I see Hermione's head emerging from the water, with my broom floating beside her. "Hermione!" I call out and swim up next to her, "are you okay?" I wrap an arm around her waist, guiding us back to shore with a one-armed stroke. My alpha is going haywire and it's making it hard to concentrate enough to get us to shore and to keep my alpha on a lead.
Instead of responding, she coughs out some water I assume she swallowed on her way down. I swim us to land and help her onto the bank. I'm kneeling next to her, taking in her soaked appearance to check for any obvious injuries. Her hair, usually full and voluminous, is now flat and plastered to her head. The minimal amount of makeup she wears has been washed away. The soaked white button-down of the uniform clings to her curves, highlighting every contour of her body. The fabric molds to her like a second skin, revealing the soft outline of her bra-clad breasts and the curves of her waist. I take a deep breath and try to divert my gaze from her body, instead looking down at her stocking-covered legs and frowning when I notice that she is barefoot. She must have kicked her boots off.
She lets out a few shaky breaths as she sits up and pushes her hand through her sopping hair, moving it off her forehead. I grab my button-down that was haphazardly tossed on the grass and start to pat her face dry, "you're okay, you're–"
That's when the scent hits me, the sweetest aroma that I've only been lucky enough to catch the faintest hint of. The combination of amber, cinnamon, and honey envelops me in its warm embrace, feeling like home. Any control I have over my alpha is forfeited. "Omega," I find myself rumbling out to her before I can stop myself.
Hermione
I pace back and forth along the shore, running my hands through my hair in frustration, "I can't believe you!" I shout at him. He took Crookshanks after feeling somewhat… fond of him, I suppose.
"Granger, I said he was safe. You just have to get him," he sighs and catches his broom.
I can't believe how nonchalant he's acting! This is my familiar! I hadn't seen him while I was in my heat nor had I made it back to my room today… "Wait, how did you even manage to get him? He hardly ever leaves the common room!" I shoot him a menacing glare.
"I could tell you," he says with a sly smile as he transfigures a chair, then offers the broom to me, "but where's the fun in that? Now, go fetch your familiar from the lake, Granger."
Anger boils inside me as I stomp up to him and rip the broom out of his hand, "I have half the mind to poison your pumpkin juice," I grit out through clenched teeth.
"Just get your cat," he remarks, leaning back in his chair and keeping his eye fixed on me.
My mind can only think about how terrified Crookshanks has to be, stranded in the middle of the lake. "I can't believe you'd put a poor, defenseless cat in the middle of a lake! And not just any lake, but Black Lake! What if–"
"I assure you, Granger, he's unharmed. But time's running out. Hurry and get him before it's too late." His hand waves dismissively.
"Tosser," I mutter and straddle the broom. What does he mean "time is running out"? My omega senses my stress and shares my concern, especially when it comes to Crookshanks. I silently curse him out as I push off from the ground. Once I reach a safe distance from the ground, I come to a stop.
I try to remind myself to stay calm and focused as Draco gives me instructions. "Focus," he reminds me firmly, "turn your anger and anxiety into energy and go get Crookshanks."
As I settle on the broom, I take a deep breath and focus on the green buoy. I can feel Draco's eyes on me, but ignore them as I focus on the task at hand.
Refusing to look at the dark, murky water, I concentrate on the buoy's motion while the broom gradually moves forward. All I can think about is Crookshanks and all of the hexes I'm putting on Malfoy when I get my wand back.
As I approach the buoy, I can hear Draco's shouts from the shore, but my focus is solely on finding Crookshanks. My eyes widen at the sight of the small, orange creature perched carefully on the buoy, nearly identical to my familiar but not quite right. Damn Malfoy and his transfiguration. Relief briefly washes over me that my animal is safe but irritation quickly takes its place. "Malfoy!" I shout back to the shore, my frustration palpable, "this isn't Crookshanks!"
"No, it's not!" He calls back, a hint of amusement in his voice, "just come back. I'll explain everything!"
Glancing back at the buoy, the orange fluff is gone, and in its spot is a block of wood. "A bloody block of wood?!" I seethe, my grip tightening on the broomstick. Malfoy's uncaring shrug and smirk only fuel my anger.
Stupid, arrogant, bloody Malfoy. I squeeze my thighs tightly against the broomstick, trying to regain control as he calls to me again from shore, "C'mon Granger, regain control of the broom."
"I am!" I snap, my voice sharp with frustration. But even as I speak, I know I'm far from steady. The broom drops out from under me and I crash into the water. The air from my lungs leaves me as I plunge deeper into the cold water. As I struggle to break through the water's surface, my legs thrash wildly, desperate to escape the suffocating embrace of the deep. My lungs ache and burn with a fierce need for oxygen, and the weight of my boots feels like an anchor, pulling me even deeper down. With the last ounce of strength I have, I frantically kick my boots off, not caring if they find a new home at the bottom of Black Lake.
With my feet free, I finally get to the surface, dragging in a sharp gasp of relief. "Hermione!" I hear Draco's panicked tone calling to me, "are you okay?" He asks, wrapping an arm around my waist and swimming us back to shore. I try to answer him but cough out some of the water I swallowed with my plunge.
As he swims us to shore, I feel his strong arms pulling me onto the bank. I sense him hovering, probably checking for any injuries, but I keep my eyes shut as I concentrate on catching my breath, which is still coming out in ragged gasps. I'm okay, I repeat to myself, trying to calm down. I remind myself that I know how to swim and Malfoy was right there. Yet, I can't help but think about how he's the one who caused this. There were probably a million other things he could have picked instead of the lake. But it's moot now.
Finally, my gasps turn into shaky breaths and I open my eyes. As I do, the sun is momentarily blocked by Malfoy leaning over me. I push my soaking hair out of my face and take him in. My gaze moves over his silky blonde hair, now drenched and mussed from his efforts to keep it out of his eyes. As my eyes move down from his hair, I can't help but notice the state of his undershirt. It's a translucent mess, clinging to his chest and revealing the toned muscles beneath. His trousers are clinging to his thighs in a way that makes me feel hot despite the chill I feel. My omega is looking on in awe at the alpha that dove into the water to save me. Even though I didn't need rescuing.
My omega. My eyes widen a bit as he starts patting me dry with his button-down shirt, "you're okay, you're–" his tone is full of comfort, but his words are abruptly cut off as his eyes begin to dilate. The silver-grey of his eyes narrows into slivers, I can't help but feel a shiver run down my spine at the intensity of his gaze.
It's safe to say my scent inhibitor potion was washed away with my unplanned swim. His scent is rolling off of him in waves and I feel like I'm drowning all over again. I swear the thudding of my heart is audible as I look up at him, frozen in my spot.
"Omega," his alpha rumbles out.
My breath hitches and I know it's useless to try and keep my hold on my omega. With the end of my heat so close, that primal part of me has taken control again and I feel it surging forward. A soft whine escapes my lips before I can stop it, my voice barely recognizable as my own, "Alpha."