Prude
Draco
Draco watched Hermione pace, her clothes clinging damply to her skin, stained by the remnants of the potion. Her agitated fingers tangled in her curls, creating a wild, frizzy halo around her head – the gooey potion acting as an unfortunate substitute for muggle hair gel. He fought the urge to laugh. She looked utterly ridiculous.
Suddenly, she whirled on him, her eyes blazing with fury.
“This is your FAULT!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the air.
“You’ve lost the plot.” He spat, "I don't know if we were in the same room a moment ago, Mudblood, but you're the idiot who knocked over the cauldron, AND you were the genius who recommended we use Daisy roots."
She lunged at him, shoving his chest as hard as she could. "Don't call me that!"
“Why not? That’s what you are,” he retorted coolly, struggling to suppress a smirk as he watched her unravel.
She threw her hands up in exasperation, surveying the now giant classroom. They were dwarfed by the surroundings, no bigger than fleas in comparison, and their wands had been left on the table.
“You kissed me!” she yelled. “How did you think I would react? And why, pray tell, did you do that if you find me so revolting?” Her cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in short, angry gasps.
He paused, taken aback. The truth was, he had no idea why he'd kissed her. He hated her, always had. Perhaps even more now, with his father rotting away in Azkaban, serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. He couldn't explain the impulse that had seized him at that moment. One minute, he was gazing into her muddy brown eyes, noticing the flecks of gold for the first time, and the next, he'd lost all sense of reason. It was as if the Mudblood bitch had hypnotized him.
He turned away. "I plead temporary insanity," he said nonchalantly, trying to regain his composure and find an escape route. "Well, as truly riveting as this has been, I must be on my way," he announced, heading towards what he hoped was the door.
“Where in the bloody hell are you going?” She demanded, chasing after him.
They moved across the worn hardwood floor, leaping over the jagged cracks. The larger fissures, too wide to bridge, were carefully circumvented, their path a winding trail through the splintered wood.
“I am going to find the first person I can, get the antidote, and put this little snafu behind me,” he replied, continuing his retreat.
“As much as it pains me to say this,” she said, struggling to keep pace with his long strides, “We need to stay together.”
He stopped, feigning contemplation. “I’ll pass, thank you though.”
“Malfoy! I don’t think you understand how dangerous our situation is. It’s getting dark, everyone will be in bed. We need a plan before wandering off into the castle. Perhaps we can find what we need in this classroom.”
He considered her words. She was intelligent, he had to admit, and clearly more powerful than he'd initially given her credit for.
“How much wandless magic can you wield? Can you apparate without your wand?” he asked, an idea forming.
“No, I can’t. But perhaps we can find the ingredients for an antidote here.”
“Merlin’s tits, Granger, I thought you were intelligent. Look around you!” He gestured dramatically at their surroundings.
She paused, taking in the room. Some ingredients lay scattered on the floor, a single daisy petal was now the size of a double decker bus.
“How in the bloody hell do you expect us to brew a potion when the ingredients are that size?” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.
"Oh, and your idea was so much better? It would take us an hour alone to get to the door! Weeks to find a person in the hallways! We'd probably die of dehydration first! Not to mention, even if we are able to locate someone... WE ARE SMALLER THAN ANTS! How in the bloody hell do you expect us to get someone's attention?"
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the grim reality of their situation truly sunk in.
Her voice softened. "Listen, Malfoy, we need to take a moment to gather our thoughts, brainstorm a few ideas. I hate this as much as you do, but if we want to get out of this alive, we need to be clever, we need to work together." She extended her hand towards him, a tentative offer of peace.
He scoffed, eyeing her hand as if it were a venomous snake. She let her hand fall, but a flicker of satisfaction crossed her face as he abandoned his attempt to leave.
She sat on the floor, cradling her head in her hands.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked, his voice laced with impatience.
"Quiet, I’m thinking," she hissed, her focus unwavering.
He settled onto the floor beside her, and waited for a brilliant idea to emerge from the depths of her mind.
After a few tense minutes, her voice broke the silence, filled with excitement. “I have an idea!” she exclaimed, leaping to her feet.
“This classroom will be filled with students tomorrow. We just need to create some sort of beacon to catch their attention and alert them of our predicament!”
“Okay…” Draco responded, slightly intrigued but awaiting further elaboration.
“We need to get up onto one of the desks. I can create wandless sparks of heat... If we can light something and start a fire, we can catch someone’s eye!”
He was impressed, not just by her plan but by the extent of her wandless magic capabilities. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but a flicker of admiration stirred within him.
“That could work,” he conceded, his voice betraying a hint of approval.
She beamed, her face radiating a warmth that seemed to envelop him, momentarily breaking through his carefully constructed barriers. Her cheeks were pink, matching her perfectly pouted lips, an image of them wrapped around his cock flashed through his mind. He shook his head, attempting to dispel the unexpected sensation that accompanied the thought. What in the bloody hell was wrong with him?
"Okay," she said, her voice filled with resolve. "Let's make our way to the nearest desk and figure out how to get up."
They surveyed the classroom. The nearest desk appeared miles away. It was going to be a long night.
****
Two grueling hours had passed. Their progress towards the desk remained agonizingly slow. The classroom had plunged into near darkness, making the distant desk even harder to make out. Draco hadn’t slept at all the night before, he had stayed up late, recounting all the ways he had faltered during the duel. Every time he closed his eyes, her triumphant gaze mocked him, fueling a restless frustration that made sleep impossible. He wanted to punish her for humiliating him, but not in the way he had anticipated. He had spent the night jerking off to thoughts of her bent over in front of him, as he took out his frustrations on her. In his fantasies, she was screaming his name, apologizing for her transgressions, and begging for release. Needless to say, he was bone tired, and he could tell she was too.
“Let's take a break.” he finally suggested, his voice heavy with fatigue.
“No,” she replied, her pace unwavering.
This bitch.
“And why not?” he asked, exasperated.
“Because we aren’t even close!”
He trudged on behind her, his eyes occasionally straying to her backside. She wore her usual muggle jeans, and he couldn't help but acknowledge that she was quite fit. Even attached to someone he loathed, he could appreciate a well shaped figure.
Deciding he didn't need her permission, he sat down on the floor, stretching his legs and rolling his shoulders.
“Get up, come on! Don’t be such a nitwit!” she said, turning to face him, her eyes flashing with annoyance.
He ignored her insult, pretending not to hear, but inside he seethed, his hand twitching at his side.
Suddenly, a slight tremor shook the floor. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but when their eyes met, he knew she felt it too.
“What is that?” she asked, a hint of unease in her voice.
The tremors intensified, and a loud boom echoed in the distance. It sounded like a volcano erupting nearby.
Draco jumped to his feet, and they both peered through the darkness, trying to locate the source of the noise. Suddenly, the room was flooded with blinding light, as if the sun had risen within the classroom. They shielded their eyes, squinting against the harsh glare.
The booming continued, shaking the floor. Then, a giant elf lumbered into view.
Hermione instantly began to scream. “HEYYYYY!!! OVER HERE!!!”
Draco joined in, their voices blending in a desperate chorus as they waved their arms frantically.
They screamed until their lungs burned and their voices grew hoarse.
A loud rushing sound, like a raging river, filled the air. Draco looked at Hermione, confusion etched on his face. Her eyes widened in terror.
“RUN!” she screamed, turning and sprinting away from the elf.
That's when Draco saw it: a gigantic, magically animated broom, sweeping across the entire classroom. He spun on his heel and followed Hermione, his legs pumping as fast as they could carry him.
The giant broom swept them up with startling speed, depositing them into a swirling vortex of dust. They coughed and wheezed, choking on the fine particles that threatened to suffocate them. Draco's heart pounded in his chest as he saw Hermione's head disappear beneath the swirling dust. He reached out, desperately grasping for her, and managed to pull her back to the surface. They dodged shards of broken glass and other unidentified debris as the broom continued its relentless task, gathering it all into a growing pile. Hermione clung to Draco with a death grip as they were lifted into the air along with the debris. Their screams and shouts were futile, swallowed by the brush of the broom.
Suddenly, they were propelled towards an open window, and flung out into the night sky. The ground rushed up to meet them. Draco watched as Hermione's lips moved in silent prayer or whatever comfort muggles sought in the face of death. He braced himself for the impact, but just as they were about to hit the ground, an invisible force arrested their fall. The force held them suspended for a breathless moment, cushioning their descent before releasing them with a gentle thud. They rolled across the dirt, the impact surprisingly mild.
Draco lay on his back, staring up at the star studded sky. He'd been told that one's life flashes before their eyes in the face of death, but despite his numerous brushes with mortality over the past two years, that had never happened. Instead, his last thought before hitting the ground had been of his mother, the unbearable grief she would feel if left alone in this world. He turned his head to look at Hermione, who was also gazing upwards. The grass around them seemed to tower like London's skyscrapers, a surreal reminder of their current state. The cool autumn air felt refreshing in his lungs after the suffocating dust of the classroom.
As the shock subsided, he finally spoke. "What just happened?"
"Well, we were tossed out the window with the rest of the classroom debris," Hermione explained matter of factly. "We're lucky the elf didn't use a Vanishing Spell instead."
"No, I mean, why aren't we dead?"
"I cast a Levicorpus," she replied, her gaze still fixed on the sky.
Draco's jaw slackened. She had saved their lives, and she seemed to consider it a trivial act. This witch was an enigma. How could a Mudblood possess such immense power? His head spun as he grappled with the implications of her abilities.
They stood and brushed themselves off, the dust clinging stubbornly to their clothes, mingling with the sticky remnants of the potion that still coated their skin.
“Well, that throws a wrench into things,” Hermione sighed, frustration evident in her voice.
“A wrench?” Draco echoed, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Oh, never mind,” she said with a heavy sigh. “We can't be too far from the castle, but I can't see it. Can you?”
Draco peered through the towering grass and plants that surrounded them like an impenetrable jungle. “No,” he replied with a sigh of his own.
“Do you hear that?” Hermione asked, tilting her head.
“No.” The only sound Draco could hear was the chilling wind rustling through the overgrown vegetation.
“It sounds like water,” she insisted.
They followed the faint sound, navigating the treacherous terrain. Sure enough, a small brook, appearing as vast as the Nile to them, trickled in the distance.
“We need to get to the water and make camp,” Hermione declared.
Draco rolled his eyes. “We can’t camp out here. We have to try to get back to the castle.”
“Malfoy, we need sleep and, more importantly, water. I don’t know if you recall, but I spent a significant amount of time last year living in a tent in the remote wilderness. I think we can handle one night out here.”
He couldn't argue with her logic. He was parched and utterly exhausted.
When they reached the water, they were surprised by its clarity. They both drank deeply, and afterward, Hermione began to construct a makeshift tent using grass and other natural materials. Draco watched in astonishment as she quickly assembled a surprisingly sturdy shelter and disappeared inside. He shivered, the cold seeping into his bones. A flicker of unease ignited within him, growing with each passing moment.
He stepped inside the tent, and a wave of warmth greeted him. Hermione had somehow managed to start a small fire, its glow casting dancing shadows on the makeshift walls. He watched, mesmerized, as she used bits of moss to create a bed. She briefly left the tent, returning with a few sticks, which she fashioned into a drying rack suspended over the flames.
Then, she disappeared again, this time for longer. When she re-entered the tent, Draco's eyes nearly popped out of his head. She held her wet clothes in her hands, and now wore only her undergarments. He was speechless as she hung her clothes on the rack and warmed her damp hair by the fire.
“What are you doing?” he finally managed to croak, his voice hoarse.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she retorted, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
He stared at her, his self control hanging by a thread. It took every ounce of willpower not to let his gaze wander. Fuck it. He let his eyes trail down her body. She was quite gorgeous, for a Mudblood. Her skin looked so soft and smooth, he wanted to run his fingers over it.
“You are free to do as you please,” she continued. “If you wish to spend the night freezing, covered in slimy goo, dust, and God knows what else, be my guest. But you’re not sleeping next to me like that.”
Draco's mouth gaped open. She expected him to sleep next to her? He had never slept next to a witch he hadn't just thoroughly fucked.
“Malfoy, I am not sure if you are so disgusted by me that you’d prefer to freeze to death, or if you are just a prude, but we are going to need to huddle together tonight if we want to stay warm,” she stated matter of factly.
Prude? His mouth opened slightly, and he resisted the urge to cross the tent and show her just how prude he was. He could show her other, more helpful ways, she could use that smart mouth of hers. Instead, he stared at her for a long moment before reluctantly shedding his own soiled clothes, remaining in his underpants. He left the warmth of the tent and plunged into the icy water, washing away the grime, sticky potion residue, and his raging erection. He quickly returned to the tent, his teeth chattering from the cold.
Hermione was still drying her hair by the fire. Draco hung his wet clothes on the rack and sat across from her, stealing glances at her through the flickering flames. He watched as the firelight danced in her brown eyes, illuminating the flecks of gold within them. Her cheeks and chest were flushed from the warmth, and he couldn't help but admire her beauty.
Once her hair was dry, she settled onto the makeshift bed. Draco continued to watch her until her breathing deepened, signaling that she had fallen asleep. He cautiously crawled onto the bed, careful not to touch her skin with his. She faced away from him, and he found himself counting the freckles on her back until he, too, drifted off to sleep.