Merlin's Embrace

000


The tension between them was palpable as they Apparated to the forest bordering the Salisbury plain the next day.


They had woken up that morning entwined together, with one of Hermione’s smooth thighs between Draco’s legs, and one of Draco’s large palms covering her breast.


Draco had woken up first, wondering fuzzily why his head hurt so much, and why he had such a raging hard-on. Then, his lazy synapses fired and he became aware the soft, warm body plastered to his side, soundly asleep.


A part of him wanted to roll over and plunge his body into Hermione’s warm, sleepy, wetness, but the more cautious part of his brain warned him to take caution if he ever wanted to have sex ever again.


He was probably correct on that point, because when Hermione woke up, she looked incredibly embarrassed, and scooted into the shower in record time.


Now they stood on the edge of the forest in awkward silence, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak.


“Oh, bother, this is ridiculous.” Hermione rooted through her little bag and fished out the dowsing rods. Confidently, bravely, she looked Draco straight in the eye, and handed him one of the rods. “Here. We both need one, I think. They should lead us to the tree that contains the tomb.”


“Right. Let’s get on with it then.”


Draco felt more than a little strange walking through the strange, silent forest waving a bit of metal around in front of him.


Hermione wore a look of intense concentration, as if her mental focus could speed up the process.


Draco snorted.


“Hey, Granger, how are we supposed to know when these things are wooor-Woah!”


As Draco was speaking, the metal rod had ‘perked up’ as if it sensed something, and was now in the process of pulling his arm from his socket as it sped like a Firebolt through the forest.


Draco glanced over his shoulder to see Hermione struggling to keep up with the little rod.


“All right there, Granger?”


“Yes!”


“Right then,” Draco muttered to himself as he concentrated on not hitting any stray branches, or slipping on any patches of ice as he ran through the forest.


Finally, Draco could see that the dowsing rod was headed straight for a large, gnarled tree. At the last minute, he let go of his rod and rolled to the side. The rod flew straight into the tree and hit with an audible thunk.


A moment later, he heard another loud thunk, and Hermione tumbled to the ground.


“Let me… catch my breath… and then we can figure out how to get inside.”


As Draco stood up and brushed himself off, he noticed that under the two needles, a small door had appeared in the trunk of the tree.


“Granger! Get over here.”


“What?”


“I don’t think we have to figure out anything.”


000


The door opened to reveal a spiral staircase that descended into a black, dank cave. As they walked down the stairs lit only by the light of their wands, they admired the natural cave formations.


The cave grew warmer and warmer as they descended, and they soon shed their heavy winter apparel in favor of their thick jumpers and weighty trousers.


Draco, who was leading, had gone into autopilot and almost tripped as he came to the end of the stairs.


Draco and Hermione raised their wands to try to judge the scope of the cavern, but the light from them was too weak to penetrate the inky darkness.


“We need more light.”


“Right.”


Draco shouted the spell to maximize the light coming from his wand and the effect was almost blinding.


The walls of the cave were covered in jewels.


Diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and hundreds of other gems decorated the wall in intriguing patterns. Spirals of emeralds. Comets of rubies and sapphires... Capturing the light, refracting it, bending it, they lit the cavern to a painful intensity.


“Sweet Mother of Merlin…” Draco breathed in awe. He was saved. Just a handful of those jewels would restore his fortune and then some.


“Come on, Malfoy, I think I’ve found the way!”


Draco slowly walked towards Hermione, head twisting every which way to get a better look at the bejeweled walls. As such, he didn’t get a good look at what Granger was pointing to until he was almost upon it.


“You have got to be joking.”


“I am not. The stories say that there are certain tasks that need to be performed for the ‘champion’ to claim the prize. Traditionally, those tasks are Physical, Mental and Spiritual. Erhm… I think we are looking at physical.”


Hermione was pointing at a small opening in the cave wall. No more than a meter square, it was very small, and looked very uncomfortable.


“Don’t worry Malfoy. I’ve gone spelunking with my parents a few times, so I know what I am about.”


“Spe-what?”


“We will have to leave our Parkas. I have a feeling we won’t want the excess girth.”


Hermione conjured a heatless blue flame and somehow attached it to the center of his brow. She did the same for herself, and then plunged into the passageway.


The passage was very, very small. Sometimes they could walk single file, heads bent. Other times they had to crawl on their hands and knees, pushing their packs ahead of them. Most often, they would have to snake through small holes on their bellies, worming their way inch by inch towards the treasure.


To keep themselves from going insane as they squeezed their bodies through the tight openings, they talked.


Mostly, they talked about inane things, like Quidditch and gossip about old schoolmates. Sometimes they talked about the other tasks, wondering what mental and spiritual trauma they would have to undergo.


Sometimes they talked about taboo subjects.


As Draco squeezed himself around a particularly difficult turn in the passage, he said, “Why are you so obsessed with this Hermione?”


“I need this, Malfoy. I need this.”


There was silence as Hermione had to push her pack through a tricky hole.


When she was through, she continued as Draco negotiated the same hole. “I need something to help me forget; to forget all of the pain, the suffering, the blood… there was so much blood. You weren’t there, Malfoy. You wouldn’t understand.”


“You think I don’t understand death? You think I don’t understand remorse? What kind of monster do you think I am?”


There was an awkward pause as they digested each other’s statements, and then they resumed talking about trivial matters.


They had been crawling in the infernal tube for so long, that when they got through it, they just blinked at each other and stared stupidly at the endpoint.


Magnificent in its medieval splendor, it was as if they had stepped into the hall of a High King in the Sixth Century. Bright tapestries, beautiful, thick carpets, and exquisite furnishings littered the room. Lit by a fire and sconces along the rough stone walls, the fire eagerly rose to great them as they entered, and heated the room comfortably.


However, what really interested them was the feast.


Hermione made a half-hearted protest that they shouldn’t eat the food, and glowered when Draco didn’t take her advice.


“Enjoy the rations, Granger. I’ll take roast lamb over dried carrots, thank you very much.”


It made for a sullen meal, Hermione picking at the provisions in the pack, and Draco loudly enjoying the feast, his eyes mocking.


Afterwards, as they sat by the fire, enjoying its warmth, Hermione began to look around.


“Malfoy,” Hermione said softly, “Do you notice anything… strange… about this room?”


Draco opened his heavy eyelids to peer at the hall. The tables, fire, chairs and carpets all seemed in order.


Then it hit him.


There was no way out.


Hermione looked around frantically, and said, “Even the way we came is gone! We can’t go back!”


000


Time was indeterminate underground, so there was no way of telling how long they had been in the room. They ate when they were hungry, slept when they were tired, and paced the room endlessly trying to find a way out.


They tried every spell they could think of on the walls, tried pushing, pulling and tugging.


And yes, they even tried embracing.


Nothing worked.


“Which challenge do you think this is, Granger?” Draco said sarcastically, “Emotional turmoil?”


“No,” Hermione said wearily, “I think this is mental. The solution is bound to be obvious. It is probably right under… our… Oh, Merlin! Please say it isn’t that easy!”


Draco brows shot up as Hermione dropped to her knees in front of him.


“Well, if that’s the way you want it, who am I to…”


“Not that Malfoy! The carpet, help me pull up the carpet!”


They spent the next few hours wrestling with the heavy carpets. When they got to the middle of the large room, they found it.


The trapdoor.


Hermione hooted in joy, while Draco laughingly picked her up and spun her around.


When they realized what they were doing, there was an awkward pause, but it was noticeably less tense. Draco hoped that Hermione was getting over her damn shyness and would finally tell him what the fuck was wrong. They had sex. Great sex. Moreover, Draco wanted to do it again. He was getting a bit impatient with her feminine modesty, and was having a hard time keeping gentlemanly restraint around her.


It was strange; he hadn’t thought of her as a Mudblood in a long time. He felt almost… free.


And he rather liked it.


000


“… That was horrible. The good news is that the next task can’t possibly be worse.”


“Don’t say that, you moron! You’ll jinx it.”


Draco snorted, “I don’t believe in things like that, and besides, what could possibly be…”


Draco and Hermione stopped in their tracks. They glanced at each other and then swallowed in unison.


In front of them was a wall of fire.


Hermione turned to glare at him, “You idiot!”


Draco was inclined to agree with her for once.


Draco tentatively walked closer to the flames and felt a wave of heat blast him, “Well. The flames are definitely real. Spiritual then?”


Hermione’s brows were furrowed as she looked at the fire wall intently. “Yes. I believe so… and if my theory is correct, no spells should be able to penetrate this fire, either.”


Draco blinked. “So how do we get through it?”


“I think,” Hermione said slowly, “I think it is a leap of faith.”


Draco looked at her for a moment, and then by her grim expression knew what she was going to do. “Oh no. You are not going to leap through a wall of fire without knowing what it is going to do to you.”


“Draco… I can’t go back.”


Draco clenched his teeth at the determined tones of her voice. “Screw Gryffindor bravery! Let’s go back and live in that cozy room for the rest of our lives. Don’t waste your life on this, Granger. I can’t believe I am saying this, but it is just a treasure.”


Hermione drew a deep breath and looked into his eyes. He saw the resigned expression in them and panicked, “Draco,” she said, “I have to do this. I do. I don’t expect you to come with me… I can’t… I can’t ask you to do this.”


Draco’s hands clenched and unclenched as they clutched her arms. He looked at the floor and then glared into her eyes.


“I’m not going to be able to convince you not to jump to your fiery death, am I?”


Hermione’s eyes were dark and grave. “No.”


“Fine,” Draco’s throat closed with some unidentifiable emotion, “But you have to know that I…”


He was interrupted by Hermione’s mouth crashing onto his.


Twining his arms around her, he crushed her body to his, as if he could somehow absorb her. Her lips were hot and frantic, their tongues clashing with fierce intensity.


All too soon, it was over, and Hermione reluctantly stepped out of his arms.


She turned to look at him, and smiled a small, sad smile.


“Good-bye… Draco.”


He watched helplessly as she straightened her pack, took a deep breath, and ran unhesitatingly into the wall of fire.


Draco slumped down, and held his head in his hands.


After an agonizing space of time, Draco raised his stony face to look at the blaze.


As his pale face was eerily lit by the dancing flames, he grinned manically.


“What the hell.”


Draco lept.


For a moment, the heat and the pain were excruciating, and then… it stopped. He was floating in a sea of suspended animation, no pain, no sight, no sound… nothing.


Is this death?


Then the moment was over. He exploded on the other side of the wall, coughing and panting. This must be what a phoenix feels like, Draco thought dazedly, When it is reborn…


“… Draco? Are you alright?” Hermione’s frantic voice slowly pierced his consciousness.


“Yes,” he croaked. He looked into her soot-blacked face and smiled. “I think I am.”


“Oh, Draco!” Hermione cried, “We’ve found it!”


Merlin’s tomb was huge. Lit by a thousand floating sconces, the light only served to illustrate how miniscule the two tiny figures of Draco and Hermione were. The floors were an exquisitely veined blue marble, as were three of the walls.


The other wall opened to a great, black pit.


Directly in front of it was a Sarcophagus.


Draco looked around him in awe, “Well, I guess we found the old man, eh?”


Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, “Malfoy! Don’t be so disrespectful.”


As they walked closer, they noticed a little stand in front of the large coffin.


“Look! It’s the Book of Lore!” Hermione shouted, and began to run towards it.


Draco kept up his steady pace, and was content to watch Hermione in her moment of glory. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, he though he saw something move by the wall of flames…


“Stop right there, Miss Granger.”


Hermione hand froze halfway towards the Book.


Blaise Zabini’s tall, elegant form walked into the room, wand trained on them.


“Don’t move, or I’ll kill you right now. Instead of later, of course.”


Draco’s face twisted into a cold sneer, “Don’t you even try it Zabini, or I’ll…”


“Stupefy!”


Blaise slowly walked to Draco’s frozen body and gently touched his cheek. “The days when you could threaten me and get away with it are long gone, old friend.”


“Imperio!”


Blaise turned to Hermione as he cast the curse, effectively freezing her as well. “Ah, my partner. My lovely, filthy partner. I told you not to betray me, but you went and found this rubbish. Ah well, you figured out the clues anyway, so I can’t be too mad at you, my sweet.”


Gracefully walking to Hermione’s small, proud figure, he glanced at the Book of Lore. Shaking his head slightly, he smiled and mildly said, “I will reward you for your good services with a quick death, no torture. Unlike that one.”


Blaise slanted a nasty glance at Draco, as he wrapped his arm around Hermione’s unresisting form.


“Beautiful…” Blaise shook his head slightly and sighed, “Such a pity. So young, so beautiful, so tragic a death. Falling because of a loose patch of marble. Such a pity.”


Gesturing towards the black pit with one dark hand, he ushered the mechanical Hermione towards her doom.


As they neared the pit, Blaise suddenly stopped and let out a peal of chilling laughter that echoed and bounced around the cavern endlessly.


Lowering his head to hers, he took her jaw in one of his large hands. In a soft, purring voice, he whispered, “Such a trusting little Mudblood. I was just using you. Like Malfoy. Has he fucked you yet?”


Hermione was expressionless, but for the single tear that glittered in the corner of her eye.


“Ah,” Blaise cocked his head slightly, sensing a weakness, “I see he has. He always was good at using any leverage to get what he wanted. And he must have wanted to restore his fortune badly to sleep with you. He was a good Slytherin to the end.”


As Draco desperately fought off the effects of the stunning spell, he saw that Hermione’s eyes jerked angrily at Zabini’s words. Merlin, I hope she is faking. She had better be, or I am going to kill her.


Blaise leered at her, and his eyes raked the length of her body. Glancing at Draco, he smirked slightly. Leaning in, so that his body brushed Hermione’s, he spoke roughly. “I suppose I could stomach fucking a Mudblood if she has tits as nice as yours.”


As Draco’s rage escalated, he felt his magic coiling deep inside of himself, waiting to strike. As he watched Zabini grope Hermione, helplessly, he felt his fingers twitch. Trying to keep the triumph he felt out of his eyes, he flexed his hands, straining to reach his wand.


“You are probably wondering if I am mad, aren’t you, my dear?”


Blaise looked at her, and waited as if she were actually replying. “Yes, I suppose I am. I blame my parents, but I have always been told I was something of a bad seed.”


During this little speech, Draco found that he could bend his legs. Just a little while longer, just a little. Hear me Hermione? Hold out just a little while…


Draco’s rage spiraled as he saw Blaise maneuver Hermione next to the gaping blackness.


“I’m sorry, my sweet, but it seem that this is good-“


Blaise’s speech was cut off by Hermione’s elbow to his gut.


Teeth clenched, eyes glittering dangerously, Hermione turned and ran, only to slow down as she reached Draco.


Run! Draco’s mind screamed, Leave me here!


As she bent to scoop up Draco’s wand, Blaise barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. Hermione fought like a demon, but Blaise was much larger, and much stronger, and soon had her in his grasp.


“Hermione, Hermione,” Blaise was panting heavily as he tried to restrain the frantic woman. “We got on so well. If we had just eliminated Malfoy as I said, all of this nasty business could have been eliminated. You and I could have shared the treasure as planned.”


“You sick bastard!” Hermione yelled, “I couldn’t kill him!”


“Yes, you wanted to bribe him- but that would have given Malfoy a share of my precious treasure, and I wasn’t having that.”


Blaise turned to Draco, Hermione in his arms, poised with her in front of the sarcophagus over the threshold of the cliff. “See this Malfoy? This time, I have what you want!”


Draco locked eyes with Hermione, and read her hopelessness, her despair. Eyes swimming with tears searched his, looking, delving into his soul, looking for an answer to her unspoken question.


“I win this time, Malfoy!”


“No you don’t, you fucking bastard!”


Exploding from the bonds of the spell, his magic surged forth like the surging tide. Throwing his hands in the direction of Blaise, he screamed, “Now, Hermione!”


Throwing herself onto the ground, Hermione escaped the brunt of Draco’s magic.


Blaise didn’t.


Draco’s wrath swelled, condensed as he pushed Blaise with the power of his magic.


Blaise Zabini hurtled sideways, his body hitting Merlin’s Sarcophagus with a loud smack. His unconscious form slid to the ground, as motionless as a rag doll.


Hermione wearily picked herself up from the marble tiles, and gave Draco a brave, wobbly smile.


“Fantastic day, huh?”


000


Hermione was lounging in her sitting room, reading the Book. The Book itself was fascinating, and Hermione’s mind was eager to implement all of her new knowledge, but her body was drained and sluggish.


Draco had left her.


She didn’t want to believe it, but all of the evidence pointed to it.


He hadn’t come to see her after the frantic day in the tomb. He hadn’t said anything to her after Blaise was sentenced to Azkaban. He hadn’t even owled in the past few weeks. He hadn’t responded to her messages either.


And she was furious.


If he only saw it as a one-time deal, didn’t she rate a note? A tiny word of thanks for letting him in on the biggest discovery of the century?


Moreover, it was the find of the century. The Wizarding media was lapping up the discovery of Merlin’s laboratory and tomb with eager abandon. And Draco was always there in the spotlight.


Hermione snorted. The media coverage of his hearing today was ridiculous. She had tried to speak to him after she gave her testimony, but they were both completely mobbed by reporters. Draco hadn’t seem to mind it much.


Hermione was absently contemplating ways to maim Malfoy, when she heard the soft click of the door opening.


Whirling around in her seat, book clutched to her chest, she bravely faced the intruder.


Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorframe, still in his elegant formal robes from the hearing earlier that day.


“May I come in?”


“No.”


“Oh, how nice of you to invite me,” Draco smirked as he sauntered in to stand next to the sofa she was sitting on. “I’ll just make myself at home.”


Hermione’s heart ached at the sight of him. He looked so good. So confident, so arrogant and elegant. He was lost to her again.


And it hurt.


“You’ve got what you want, Malfoy. You have your money. Now leave me alone.”


“No.”


“Leave,” Hermione spoke in a soft, ragged undertone.


“No. I won’t leave.”


“Typical. I haven’t seen you for weeks, Malfoy. Weeks. And then you barge in here, expecting me pander to you, just because you are rich again? It’s not going to happen!”


Gently closing Merlin’s book, she carefully placed it on its stand. Rising, she faced him, furiously, “Go back to your groupies! I’m sure they will be all over you now that you are wealthy again.”


Draco was impassive in the face of her rage, “I don’t want them.”


“What?” Hermione sneered, “You haven’t fucked me out of your system yet? Or perhaps you want…”


Draco slapped his open palm over her mouth, effectively silencing her angry tirade. “Listen to me Granger. I know it is a novel concept, but just do it for once. I don’t want anything that sordid. I want…”


Hermione cursed her racing heart as she saw the uncertainty flicker in his eyes.


Draco cleared his throat and continued. “I would like for you to… come and live with me at the Manor.”


Hermione’s eyes rounded in shock.


Draco took his hand off her mouth and ran it though his platinum mane. “I didn’t want to ask you before I had restored the honor to my name, as it wouldn’t have been proper…”


“You are such a moron!” Hermione slapped him across his face, and then smiled at his look of shock. “That was for making me wait two damn weeks to hear from you again. This is what I think of your proposal.”


Wrapping her arms securely around his neck, Hermione brought his lips to hers and proceeded to show him exactly what she thought.


000


The devious serpent twined around his lion, and their embrace lasted for an eternity.


…So the prophesy says, and so must it be.


000


Request:

Rating(s) of the fic you want:Any
Three things you want your fic to include:A magic book, a treasure
hunt, and mistletoe
Three things you do not want your fic to include:death, bananas,
unhappy ending