DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
P. Terribilis 2
Was it night already? The sun disappeared in an instant in this strange place.
He was tired, but seeing that she was following him in moving the walls renewed his vigour. They might yet get out of this and make those babies he wanted.
She was scared. Half the floor was a sheer drop; the other half was on the ground. But his confinement was in a similar situation as hers, and he continued to jump against that barrier.
She would trust him with her life.
For didn't he sang of his love for her? His song said so – and a frog always meant his word.
They were free! Large sharp pieces of that confinement were everywhere, and he could feel himself bleeding where he was cut. But he was alive and free of that strange place. But where was she? Was she hurt?
Where are you my love?
You are my vision of loveliness.
I've pined for you for so long,
Put me out of my misery…
There! There under that larger piece, away from the scatter of the bits of confinement! She was trying to push her way out, but the edges were sharp and cutting her.
Quickly, he moved towards her, still singing his love song.
My love, my love
My bride, my babies' mother
I've pined for you for so long,
Put me out of my misery…
There was barely space for the frogs to touch, but he managed to lay his hands on hers, which calmed her down and stopped her struggling against that sharp edge.
She was bleeding, and it cut his heart.
My love, my love, he sang, Kiss me!
As their lips met, a vortex of wind and light tore through the room. The trill of his song lifted them up, but this time they were together. They clutched tightly to each other, lips locked, eyes closed. They felt themselves transformed; their mating song binding their hearts and soul – there was magic in the air, and that magic was both in them and around them.
They were both standing, panting on the carpeted floor when the dust settled.
"My love?" the words he whispered sounded strange on his tongue, as he slowly opened his eyes. "GRANGER?" a shocked Draco sputtered, as he held Hermione in the circle of his arm.
At that, Hermione's passion-darkened eyes opened, the dreaminess in them clearing in an instant.
In a heartbeat, Hermione had extricated herself from him. But it didn't mean that he didn't take the time to fully appreciate her form.
He'd always known that Hermione was a beautiful witch, although truth be told, he had deaden his heart to hope that there could possibly be a relationship between them whilst they were studying at Hogwarts. There were just too many differences and history between them, and he was pained to admit that any possibility of a relationship between the two of them could only come about once they have left Hogwarts and left their stupid childhood rivalry behind.
And if it weren't for Crabbe's potion accident today, he would probably never get the chance to see her in all her gorgeous glory.
I am a shallow, shallow witch, she thought, ruefully.
Here she was, naked as the day she was born, and all she could do was to ogle the very naked Slytherin Prince of her infatuation.
And yes, she had always been aware of Draco Malfoy, even in her early years at Hogwarts. She had never been indifferent to him and considered him her closest academic rival. While Ron had always consoled her with the thought that Malfoy trounced her only because Lucius Malfoy bought Draco's way forward, she knew that without innate ability, especially at the higher years, no amount of bribery could allow Malfoy to achieve his grades. Furthermore, while academic achievements may be bribed, Lucius' involvement on Malfoy's Quidditch talents was limited to buying only the best equipment galleons could buy. State-of-the-art Quidditch equipment can only go so far in the hands of mediocre athletes, and it wasn't as if Harry was too poor to afford the same kind of advantage. Hermione wasn't alone in the knowledge that Malfoy took his training seriously and with an equal intensity as Harry did. Most mornings the two rivals could be seen whizzing in dizzying acrobatics across the Quidditch pitch, greeting the dawn.
And such a focussed ethos on work and play, coupled with that handsome visage, can only appeal with one such as her, who was constantly challenged the more he put her down with his casual insult of her person.
She never forgot to return that favour.
Therefore their interactions had always held that element of quick exchange of wit, as they matched verbal swords. And it was only recently that she admitted to herself their exchanges held an undercurrent of awareness… at least on her side.
She knew what she felt for him - lust, definitely - and that kiss! Oh that kiss!
It felt like that kiss had consisted of light and giddy weightlessness. It felt transformative, that kiss!
But he easily broke the enchantment the minute he discovered it was the Gryffindor swot that he was kissing, for didn't he look horrified at the idea?
To say that she was embarrassed was an understatement.
No doubt he expected some Slytherin princess worthy of a Malfoy, she thought, hurt and unhappy.
But while she might be upset at his reaction, a wholly different part of her brain quickly catalogued Malfoy's Quidditch-toned body, his easy grace as he stood there, looking back at her with narrowed eyes.
He was certainly not embarrassed to be found naked in a room with a naked girl.
And no wonder - not only did he look handsome in what he wore, he was certainly handsome even out of it. All those morning practices did a world of good for him, and not only for his Quidditch form at that.
In a split second her brilliant mind weighed and judged the circumstances and came to two conclusions. The first one was that in another lifetime, one where Draco Malfoy was less antagonistic, less caustic, less Slytherin, him being less his clothes would be a state that she'd want to keep him perpetually in.
The second was that this wasn't that lifetime.
Therefore, with the Gryffindor adage that a good offense is the best defense, Hermione changed her stance. She forgot her embarrassment and her lack of clothes. Narrowing her eyes, her hands at her hips, and her head tilted critically, she launched the first slavo:
"It looks like someone's in real need of some engorgio charm!"
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief.
She might look like a goddess, but that witch clearly needed glasses of Trelawney's ilk.
She must be quite desperate to pick on what was very obviously an extremely engorged part of his anatomy… as if he could help it, being squarely in one of his many unfulfilled fantasies involving her.
Nonetheless, he always gave as good as he got, so he crossed his arm, took a step forward, putting himself into her personal space, sneered down at her and said, "At least, you don't have to use obliviate any time soon!"
Oh that-, she mentally sputtered. Obliviate, eh? I'll show you obliviate!
She leaned forward, putting her close enough to jab his chest with her pointer finger.
"At least you don't have to disinfect your mouth with-"
She couldn't finish her sentence, for by then he had grabbed her and stopped her rant with a most punishing kiss.
Hermione wasn't taking that angry kiss passively, oh no. If anything, her courage always rose at every attempt to intimidate her, and clearly Malfoy intended that she be shut up in such a base and unfair manner.
Therefore, with one hand, she grabbed the back of his head to prevent him from breaking from the kiss, and with the other, she held on tightly to his very firm biceps.
Ha! See if you'd ever want to stop my rant like that again-, she thought, but at this point, she was beginning to realise that Malfoy didn't appear to want to stop what he was doing, especially when he moved his left hand and began pulling her closer to him. She was certainly not immune to the delicious feelings that this wrought and was starting to tingle all over.
And that was when Dumbledore's office brightened and their kiss broke for a second time.
The minute the jars crashed down, an alarm alerted the Headmaster, who promptly left the High Table with Professors McGonagall (who had been given a short briefing as to her House's most brilliant charge) and Snape. Longbottom was promptly summoned from his steak and kidney pie and the quartet moved as fast as they could to the stone gargoyle and up the moving staircase to Dumbledore's office.
A swish and flick later, the dimly-lit office brightened up revealing two very naked students, engaged in what appeared to be an angry, punishing snogging session.
Snape fainted, McGonagall blushed and Dumbledore ushered Longbottom from the room. A quick Oblivate on Longbottom saw him sent back to his steak and kidney pie, with a vague sense of dejavu.
Severus was Enervated, Minerva was calmed down, and Dumbledore re-entered his office without his deputies.
By this time, the kissing couple had broke up, standing apart from each other, glaring angrily at the other, fists clenched, panting as if they ran a mile.
Dumbledore quickly conjured two sets of uniforms for his students and sent them in the general directions of the 7th Years. "When you are dressed, we'll talk," he concluded, leaving the room.
After Dumbledore left the office, neither Draco nor Hermione moved an inch towards the uniforms lying at their bare feet.
"Why'd you do that for?" she asked.
"That was the only way to get you to shut up," was the quick reply.
But before Hermione could add another verbal parry, he moved quickly over to her side and turned her so that her back faced his scrutiny.
"What-?" she said, before she was cut off.
"You're bleeding!" he exclaimed angrily, as if it were her fault for not taking care of herself.
"I… I must have cut myself... on the glass?" she ended, feeling confused.
It was then the couple noticed the shattered glass at their feet and the general chaos of Dumbledore's office. Looking down, they had also cuts on their feet and were leaving trails of blood on the floor.
"I… I don't understand." Hermione shook her head. "I don't remember," she continued, turning back to look at her companion.
And then, to her consternation, she saw that Malfoy had closed his eyes in concentration, and was hovering his hand over her bared back. She felt the stinging open wound stitch itself closed, and a warm tingle that had nothing to do with the lust she felt for him blanketing the area where his hands hovered.
Wandless healing magic… and a powerful one at that.
"Malfoy?" she whispered, when he sighed in exhaustion after that intense exertion.
"We'd better get changed and then see about getting our feet healed by Pomfrey," was his curt reply.
Putting words into action, he bent down to retrieve her uniform, and shoved it into her hands. He crossed over to his pile of uniform and began putting on his clothes, facing away from her. It would not do to tempt himself further. The two kisses they exchanged were wrecking havoc on his senses, and it would not do to disillusion her of his true feelings about her.
When Dumbledore returned to the office, the students were dressed, sans their footwear. By this time, Dumbledore had Pomfrey with him, and she had brought with her two levitating chairs to bring them to the Infirmary.
"Your parents were notified about what had happened, and are on the way to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, as the pupils were helped into the chairs by Pomfrey. A House Elf appeared to deal with the broken glass and the chaos. "After your ordeal, Madam Pomfrey would like to keep you for observation first, before you meet your respective parents."
"Professor, my parents were notified?" Hermione ventured, cutting her eyes to Malfoy to see what he made of the news. "What exactly happened to us?" she continued.
"All in good time, my dear. All in good time," was the only reply she got, before Madam Pomfrey whisked her charges off to the Infirmary.
Hardy, E. 2001. "Phyllobates terribilis" (On-line), Animal Diversity Web. Accessed August 13, 2004 at http: . /site/accounts/information/Phyllobates_terribilis .html.