Cufflinks

Being confined to a dark, abandoned passageway with a cranky Malfoy was not Hermione's idea of a nice Saturday evening.

They'd been in here for nearly thirty minutes. With only their wands for light to navigate through the uneven path of rock underneath them, Hermione kept stumbling and accidentally bumping into Malfoy to his annoyance. They'd descended into bickering a long time ago—Malfoy was also slightly hunched due to his height and the low ceiling of the passageway, and Hermione could tell that the prolonged uncomfortable position was not doing wonders for his mood.

"How long is this going to take?" Malfoy complained for the umpteenth time in a row, looking like he was on the verge of raising his wand and casting a Bombarda Maxima to blow up the passageway himself.

Hermione gritted her teeth, wiping sweat off her brow. She glowered at the back of Malfoy's neck—despite the stuffy atmosphere of the passageway, he'd miraculously managed to stay as dry as a sponge, and that infuriated her for some reason. "I told you it'd take a long time! You were the one who wanted to see anyway!"

"You didn't think to possibly mention that I'd be stuck in this damn passageway with you for half an hour?"

"Oh please, Malfoy—as if I wanted to be stuck in here with you!"

Malfoy suddenly stopped walking and turned around, causing Hermione to nearly run into his chest. She barely had time to react before he was cornering her, pushing her into the wall of the passageway as he towered over her.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked in a uncharacteristically deep, husky voice, eyes glittering in the darkness.

Her patience was running thin. Hermione sighed, and then she punched him straight in the nose.

"OW—GRANGER!" Malfoy roared as he reeled back in pain. "WHAT THE HELL?"

Hermione pushed him aside and forged ahead, leaving him clutching at his face and glaring at her murderously. "If you thought that your laughable seduction techniques would work on me, then you're mistaken."

"THAT'S THE SECOND TIME YOU'VE PUNCHED ME IN THE NOSE!"

Hermione hummed non-committedly, thinking back to a fond memory from third year involving a certain blond narcissist and a wonderfully-delivered blow to the face. "And it was just as enjoyable as the first."

"Fuck," Malfoy snarled nasally from behind her. Hermione heard his footsteps start up again as he muttered a small "Episkey," and then there was an audible small grunt of pain. "I was just trying to make things interesting."

"Well, I pity the poor girls who fall for that."

"No one's immune to my charm."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That was assault, not charm."

She sensed Malfoy opening his mouth to retort. "We should be reaching the castle soon," she said quickly before he could speak and rope her into another round of useless bickering.

There was some scuffling as Malfoy quickened his pace in evident motivation, ready to get as far away from her and this dingy passageway as he could. "Who even told you about this passageway?" he asked.

"None of your business," said Hermione shortly, keeping her eyes trained ahead for any sign of the end of the passageway.

"It was Potter, wasn't it?"

"No."

"Yes, it was. You're rubbish at lying, you know—your voice just went an octave higher."

Damn. Fine, she'd humor him.

"Yes, it was Harry," muttered Hermione monotonously. "He has a magical map that shows the entirety of Hogwarts—every inch of it, from each nook and cranny to every single hidden passageway, as well as every classroom, every hallway, every corner, and all of the grounds."

"What?"

Malfoy's tone of disbelief was completely and comically displaced in the dark passageway, and Hermione couldn't help the sudden urge to continue dangling the knowledge of the Marauder's Map in front of his nose for her pure entertainment. "It also documents the real-life position of every single person and ghost in the castle."

"I don't believe you."

She shrugged. "Alright."

A moment of silence. Then—

"Where is this map?" demanded Malfoy. He strode forward quickly, squeezing himself next to Hermione to glare down at her.

"With Harry."

That was a lie—Harry had loaned the Marauder's Map to Hermione before the start of eighth year, having no use for it at Auror academy, and it was currently stored at the bottom of her trunk in her dorm. That way, it was safe—besides, there wasn't any harm in indulging Malfoy with information as long as he couldn't actually use the map himself.

Malfoy groaned. "How come Potter always finds the best treasures?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but she quickly shut it when a small gleam of brightness appeared in the distance. They'd reached the end of the passageway—as her and Malfoy both quickened their pace, the unmistakable glint of an iron ladder on the wall opposite to them came into view.

The only one with prior experience, Hermione climbed up first, extinguishing the light on the tip of her wand with a quiet "Nox!" before pointing it at the rock ceiling above the ladder.

"Dissendium," she murmured, and she watched as the stone rumbled, dust falling upon her and a disgruntled Malfoy beneath her. Light slowly flooded her vision as the stone shifted to reveal the appearance of a small opening that unmistakably led into the castle—she could see the tall, raised ceiling of the castle from her vantage point as she continued climbing.

"Who knew goody two shoes Granger was such a rebel?" muttered Malfoy as he followed her up the ladder.

Ignoring him, Hermione reached the opening and eased herself through it quietly, finding herself staring at the back of the One-Eyed Witch statue. After peeking out from the side of the statue to make sure there was no one around in the hallway, she shifted to allow Malfoy to climb out after her; she grimaced when he squeezed out and nearly shoved her against the stone of the statue.

"This is next to the Grand Stairwell," he observed, eyes squinted at the suddenness of going from a completely dark environment to a brightly-lit one. "I pass this statue all the time!" He whirled around to look at Hermione. "How come no one knows about this?"

She shrugged ominously as she moved out from behind the statue. "The castle's full of secrets."

Luckily, the corridor in front of them was completely empty, which—Hermione realized when her stomach gave a loud grumble—was due to the fact that dinner had already started long ago. She could already smell the slight whiff of aromas and hear the distant chatter of students from the Great Hall below.

Wordlessly, she and Malfoy left the corridor and descended the Grand Stairwell, the noise from within the Great Hall growing louder and louder as they neared it. Without even looking back at Malfoy, Hermione eagerly sped up her pace as she walked through the open doors of the Great Hall—she'd had enough of him for today, and he didn't follow her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that the two hours had just passed, and the binding charm on her and Malfoy's badges had broken.

"Where were you?" asked Ginny as Hermione collapsed onto the bench next to her at the Gryffindor table and immediately began piling her plate with food. "I didn't see you at all after you ditched me in front of Honeydukes!"

"Malfoy dragged me away," said Hermione apologetically. She glared over at the Slytherin table—Malfoy had settled down in between Zabini and Theodore Nott and was now tucking into a pile of lamb as if he hadn't just tortured her with his presence for a whole two hours.

"Did you at least have fun?"

"I punched him in the nose."

Ginny pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well. . . . At least he is quite fit."

Hermione turned her neck to stare incredulously at her friend so fast that she immediately felt the effects of whiplash. "Malfoy?"

"Well, objectively of course! I mean, just look! He did fill out quite a bit after the war, so he doesn't look pointy anymore. . . . And his hair's longer now. . . ."

"I can't believe you just called Malfoy fit!"

From across the table, Parvati Patil glanced up in interest. "Who said Malfoy's fit?"

"Ginny!"

"Hm," said Parvati musingly, turning around to look directly at the Slytherin table. "He is now, isn't he? He is quite tall."

Hermione's mouth dropped open as Lavender then inserted herself into the discussion and began gushing over that one time "Draco helped me get the boomslang off the very top shelf of the supply cabinet in Potions!"

What was going on? It was like she'd suddenly become surrounded by Malfoy fangirls—maybe he'd slipped Amortentia into all their goblets when they weren't looking.

"Ginny," Hermione hissed, prodding her friend's arm with a spoon until the redhead turned away from Parvati's animatedly retelling of the time she'd bumped into a shirtless Malfoy on the Quidditch pitch (which was absolutely the last thing Hermione wanted to be listening to while eating). "How was the date with Zabini?" she asked loudly.

That was luckily enough to distract everyone from the bewildering Malfoy talk, and Parvati and Lavender both oohed loudly as Ginny grinned and launched into a detailed recap of her evening with Blaise Zabini. Hermione sighed gratefully as she let the excited talk wash over her. At least Ginny seemed to have had a good time on her date—Hermione personally wanted to hear the name "Malfoy" absolutely zero more times from now until she went to bed.

Fortunately, that was what happened, to Hermione's luck. Sunday passed in a blur of schoolwork and no mention or sighting of Malfoy. Hermione tucked herself into the corner of the library where she always sat at and busied herself with her latest Arithmancy project, only getting up to eat in the Great Hall or stand on the Quidditch pitch and help Ginny time her Quidditch moves.

She felt a clear state of mind wash over her as the day went on—there was nothing to dedicate her time and efforts to but schoolwork, and she blissfully forgot about what exactly she'd condemned herself to the day before until it was too late.