Finders Keepers

Hermione and Draco had been walking over two hours and there still wasn’t any sign of the supposed river the EMS had picked up. She was beginning to think it was faulty. Something started to niggle in the back of her memory – didn’t Draco say something about a company he owned?

She looked at him sideways and felt a spindle of anger begin and a frown formed on her face, he only had to be in a five hundred metre vicinity to make her feel this way. Hermione didn’t like to think on the other things he may or may not make her feel, as far as she was concerned everything else she ‘may’ be feeling towards him was due to the adrenaline – she was sure she read about it in Witches Weekly at some point, that and an article on pruning her Venus fly trap.

“So, how much further do we have to stumble through this bloody forest before we come to that river your ‘device’ said was just an hour away?” Hermione heard the whine and sarcasm in her words – she didn’t care.

“The electromagnetic mapping system is never wrong,” he replied haughtily, “you must have set it up incorrectly.” He paused for a second and she threw an extra glare his way for good measure. “You truly don’t believe it was my company who created it, do you?”

“Considering it is of Muggle design, not sold in wizarding circles and the company itself is completely sustainable and environmentally friendly – then no – I think you’re lying. It’s as far from a Malfoy product as it could get – it doesn’t ruin lives.”

She watched as Draco’s smirk slowly faded and was replaced by a look she couldn’t discern, maybe she was being a little harsh, but she wouldn’t apologise – he never did. “There’s a lot you don’t know or understand about me, Granger. But,” his tone changed from soft to arrogant within a second. “I refuse to explain myself to an ignorant, over-achieving witch such as you.”

Spluttering an incoherent reply which even she couldn’t understand she threw daggers at Draco’s back when she heard a muffled laugh – arsehole. Hermione was still pissed that Malfoy had stolen the relic. It was a typical underhanded tactic a Slytherin would employ. She was continually ignoring the fact it had worked out to their favour at the moment, though she now knew as soon as the wizards discovered they had been duped when they opened her empty lead box – they would be hunting them down like there was no tomorrow. She glanced over her shoulder, the forest looked silent – for the moment.

“There’s nobody following us yet, Granger – stop being so nervous. It’s making me bloody jumpy.”

She felt her eyebrows furrow, “You know what - don’t speak to me – I don’t want to hear your superior voice flapping on about nothing.”

“Oh, so I’m annoying you, am I? Good to know.” He was quiet for all of ten seconds before starting again; she felt air hiss out between her teeth. “You do realise you have no choice but to talk to me.”

“There’s always a choice,” she snapped. “Just like you had a choice in the war and completely screwed it…..”

Suddenly he was on her – Hermione only had a split second to realise she’d overstepped her mark by fifteen metres – why the hell had she brought up the damn war, what was wrong with her? It had no bearing on what they were going through now, none whatsoever – she was just poking the angry bear. Draco pushed her into the nearest tree, hard – holding her there. The look of fury on his face shocked her into silence. His weight was behind him and Hermione started to come to the uncomfortable realisation that Draco felt rather good pressed against her. Get your shit together, he’s an imbecile.

“You have no idea what I did or did not do in that blasted war – I’m sick of hearing about it – especially from the holier than thou Hermione Granger. Don’t pretend to know me – don’t pretend to know what went on. That’s all I’m saying on it – are you ready to move on from 10 years ago, because I’m done.”

Hermione stayed silent, not really sure what to say. The need to apologise for her gross lack of finesse when dealing with him was at the forefront of her mind – but she never gave in to Malfoy, never had and never would. He was right, she didn’t know what he went through; all she saw was the aftermath – the effect of his decisions, bad ones, but ones he had to make under who knew what pressure. For some reason her mouth was not attached to her brain at the moment and a small ‘sorry’ escaped her lips without meaning to.

“What?” he questioned disbelievingly.

“I said sorry, don’t milk it.” She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, Hermione was overtly aware of his body still pressed tight with hers. This was different from waking up sprawled on him earlier that morning, because that was involuntary, it happened in her sleep. What was happening now was going on wide awake and she was aware of the situation, so why didn’t she automatically push him off? She was scared to wonder why so she squashed it. He shifted slightly and an unwelcome shard of sparks flew up her spine making her shiver – Hermione started - she was seriously beginning to battle in her mind whether this wizard was making her furious or turned on. Definitely furious – definitely; she was mad to think somebody like Malfoy could turn her on. Nobody with such aristocratically handsome features and an air of arrogance which made heads follow his every move could ever turn her on…

Draco let her go and run a hand through his hair before pushing himself off of her, Hermione let out a breath she wasn’t even aware of holding. She was on edge and it was messing with her – she needed to find a way out of this situation before things got too convoluted, before she started to think of Draco as a hot-blooded man and not an annoyance to her ordered life.

The rest of their trek was made in almost complete silence, Hermione glowering behind a flagging Malfoy. She refused to ask if he wanted to stop to rest, her kindness for the year had reached its quota. After another forty minutes they finally came across one of the widest rivers she’d ever seen. Thankful as they flung themselves from the tree-line on top of a small incline she saw a small shanty-type set-up, and by small Hermione meant three tin sheds and a jetty with a few boats scattered around it. She was just grateful they’d come across something which could help them – not stumbled upon another curve in the river that they would have to follow to civilisation.

She watched as Draco staggered slightly then righted himself almost immediately; the spark of concern in her chest didn’t go unnoticed by her. He was an arse why should she care if he was hurt? Although he did get knocked out quite spectacularly. The fact he was complaining bitterly under his breath about something helped squash the annoying concern for him aside – it would not do to get too attached to the blonde arrogant man. They were reluctant partners at the moment, but she hadn’t forgotten the many years of dislike which preceded it. She would be foolish to let go completely and actually admit she kind of liked Draco’s brash personality – which of course she didn’t.

“Right, there has to be somebody around with a phone or an Owl or something.” Draco mumbled as they stumbled down the small path towards the nearest shed.

Hermione was too weary and annoyed to tell Draco she thought the place was deserted, the boats all had covers over the outboards – plus, what wizard would be sitting out here with an owl – she wasn’t sure fly-fishing was on most Ministry employee’s to-do list.

After ten minutes of searching the three small sheds and finding nothing but fishing gear, Draco sat down on an upturned drum rubbing his eyes in tiredness. They were both at breaking point, and needed to rest. She was ready to slap Draco if he complained about one more thing, she thought she had acted like a saint so far – it would have been so easy to strangle him in his sleep. A big wet drop hit Hermione’s forehead and she felt the small spark of anger burn brighter – suddenly it bucketed down, drenching them in seconds - perfect.

To top off the weariness Hermione felt in her bones, the tree line at the top of the small hill they’d come over began to shake and rustle as five men slammed through running. Hermione didn’t even need to look to know they were the men who were after them; it was just one of those days. Draco looked up, and his tired grey eyes narrowed.

“Bloody hell, do they not give up?”

“Apparently not,” Hermione snapped back, and when she saw Draco glance around slightly dazed and confused at where they should go, she grunted and looked over the boats quickly before deciding and pulling Draco out onto the jetty which she swore was held together with nothing but thumb tacks. It swayed from side to side making Hermione falter and Draco fall to his knee once before she led him to the boat she had spied earlier.

“There’s bigger boats, you twit – why pick this one, we’ll be caught in seconds,” Draco sneered at the small craft she pushed him into. Instead of giving him an answer which she knew would contain too many large rude words she threw off the cover to the outboard motor. She chose right, the engine was about 200hp and much too fancy and large for the size of the craft they were on – but Hermione needed speed and needed it now. She was thankful that some fishermen were typical guys and wanted the biggest motor to show off. Glancing back at the men she started the engine then saw somebody who wasn’t part of the original ambush – a wizard complete in wizarding robes, it looked almost funny in their current surrounds. Then Hermione noticed him brandishing a wand – she even felt sick from here – but that was because she recognised the wand – it was hers.

“What are you doing?” Draco’s voice pulled her back into the now, she was standing up and almost out of the boat – ready to challenge this wizard who held her wand as if it were his own. Then she saw him point it in their direction – Hermione jumped down and slammed the boat into gear and sped off, zigzagging across the water – trying to make it hard for a shot. The engine had some kick and the wake of the waves almost flooded the back of the craft, but Hermione had experience and guided them out deeper. The murky water around them danced as bullets and spells hit, but by some grace of the goddess they remained un-hit – which was a miracle, they were practically sitting ducks. It made her wonder if the wizard using her wand had any idea how to actually use a wand, which was stupid, because he clearly could send spells from it.

As soon as they were out of range and cruising down the river Draco suddenly leapt up and grabbed the front of her jacket pulling her towards him harshly, she almost lost her grip on the accelerator. “What the fuck was that?”

If she wasn’t so angry at the idiot, she’d have wondered if there was the smallest amount of worry in his voice, although it was hard to tell through the fury of his words. “He had my wand, Draco – my freaking wand. I’ve had that since I was eleven, Merlin it’s more valuable to me than all the money in your bloody vault, and I’m just meant to let him have it? You know what this means - he knows who I am, where I stayed – hell, he’s probably gone through my underwear by now.”

“No wand is worth more than that, Granger, my vault is….Christ, you always make me go off topic – what the hell is it….Look, I’m sure beige undies are not on his radar, the point here is you almost got us caught – think, Granger. You’re not the only person here.” He punctuated ‘think’ with a finger jab to her forehead. Red took over her vision.

She pushed Malfoy away from her; he fell to the bottom of the small craft as she threw the boat sideways, taking huge satisfaction as his head hit the side again. He growled and got to his knees, Hermione knew immediately she’d pushed too far – but to hell with it, he’d pushed first. No one assumed she wore ugly boring beige panties, nice underwear was a weakness she had – she spent more on it than most people paid to refurnish their house.

Just as Malfoy gained his balance on his knees and started to go for her again, something stopped him dead in his tracks – he was looking over her shoulder. Hermione felt dread pit in her gut and spun around seeing four boats begin to pursue them. Their anger at each other suddenly seemed like the most trivial thing in the world. Hermione was tired beyond all comprehension – but the sight of those small crafts gave her such a burst of adrenaline, “do you still have the shot-gun?”

Draco’s gaze stayed watching behind her – he didn’t hear her over the roar of the engine, when she yelled it again he looked at her sharply then nodded. He was back in the game. As they sliced across the top of the water, Draco came and positioned himself next to Hermione at the back – trying to find a good place to fire a shot off. There was less bumping of the waves at the base of the boat – but he had to almost sit on her lap – and this disturbed her why? They had maniacs chasing after them with intent to kill and she was getting flustered by Malfoy sitting next to her closely, which was stupid considering she had woken up spread all over him that morning – Hermione needed to get out more if the fluttering in her stomach was anything to go by. She also had to forget what it was like to wake up with Malfoy – it was the second time in half an hour she’d brought it up to herself and it left her wondering why.

“This is bullshit,” he yelled to her, as he loaded two shells – like an expert at Muggle guns Hermione noticed, wondering once again how Malfoy knew such things. “I mean, what are we – two relic hunters who hate each other, right? Not bloody spies – I’m no James Bond.”

Hermione was taken aback – how in hell did Malfoy know who 007 was, a Muggle spy character? A niggle in the base of her brain asked – who was this man and where the hell was that little arrogant boy who’d called her a Mud Blood? The puzzle she held labelled ‘Draco Malfoy’ was starting to not fit together, the pieces were jumbled and she didn’t like it at all – it felt like the world had tilted on its axis and everything was out of whack. Draco was still yelling at her over the engine.

“Now we have to stop a crazy arsed wizard from getting this relic, which is really starting to chaff my skin by the way. We are in the middle of nowhere, on a river with two guns, no wands and nothing but our wits. Which by the way I have more of than you.”

She ignored his wise-crack and realised for the first time in…ever - Malfoy wasn’t being a cock on purpose, he was almost chatting to her; like they didn’t hate each-others guts. She knew they had to start trusting the other to a certain degree – they’d be dead in two minutes flat if they didn’t come to an agreement. But a friendly conversation – his dead relatives from four hundred years ago would be turning in their graves at the thought.

“What a fucking rush,” he finally yelled into the space behind them as he cocked the gun.

“A rush?” Hermione yelled back, he flipped her a half grin and the boat lurched as she accidently let off the accelerator. Damn him. He must have forgotten who he was with for a moment because in the eighteen or so years she’d known Draco, he finally looked carefree, his hair whipped around his head as he leaned back in the boat trying to line up one of the wizards crafts through the shotguns site. She felt a sharp stab of excitement in her stomach. How on earth he managed to make her insides burst into butterflies she didn’t know – but this very second as they raced across the rainy river in god knows where, Hermione let it slide. She was starting to wonder when she was going to collate all this data she’d inadvertently begun to collect about Draco; and what would she have at the end.

It was still raining heavily and Hermione had to admit through the terror she felt at being chased, there was also a thrill about it; she’d not lived like this – ever. She shielded her eyes with a hand to see through the rain and had to swerve to avoid a fallen tree in the river and as she did so Draco fired off a shot.

She heard a shattering of wood, and quickly glanced behind her to see one boat careening off to the side, a large hole appearing on the water line at the front of it. She couldn’t help being impressed. “Nice shot,” she heard herself yell without meaning to.

“Of course it was,” he replied with a laugh. The butterflies all died at once as his arrogance took over again. She wasn’t at all surprised. But it was a good shot, she admitted bitterly.

The boat lurched again and Hermione heard a loud screech from underneath them, she felt fear grip her – she knew what that noise meant – she’d spent enough time on the water with her father growing up to know what was happening.

“Malfoy, hold on – rocks!”

He got off one last shot which went wild before falling to the floor again as the boat pitched. Hermione was trying her best to avoid the larger outcrops of rocks, but it was near on impossible – they had somehow stumbled upon rapids. Hermione didn’t even know what river they were on, so had no idea which way they should have travelled - up stream or down; it looked like she chose wrong though. She didn’t even think to ask Malfoy if he still had the EMS – it was too late now anyway. Draco climbed up to the front of the boat, and began to point out directions so she would miss most of the rocks – it helped, marginally.

Then she saw small ricochets in the river, and the bright lights which meant spells. One boat had gained on them, most likely using a spell to avoid the rocks – she felt her adrenaline reserves start to wane. It would be impossible to beat them without the use of magic.

Then the rocks stopped as the river levelled out again, Hermione saw Draco make a motion to flatten the gear – so she did. Her heart was in her throat as they sped along the river faster than she thought she would ever do in an unfamiliar body of water. Every safety protocol her father had ever taught her was thrown out the window as she tried her best to outrun the wizard in the next boat by pure skill and horsepower. To her utmost surprise it was working, they were slowly gaining distance.

Malfoy slid back down towards her, the German’s gun now in his hand, it was a semi-automatic and she knew they both felt better at having at least one more weapon up their sleeves.

“Two of the other boats got caught on the rocks; we only have the one after us now, although there are more rapids up ahead – we need to get away from them – why hasn’t he used the bloody wand properly?” As Draco yelled this to her she felt the boat lose its shaky balance on top of the water, they’d hit the next lot of rapids – and these were huge.

Hermione did the only thing she could and slowed down – lest they get ripped apart on top of the rocks. This unfortunately made sure the other boat caught up to them within minutes. Draco looked at her a moment and started to yell something – but she couldn’t hear. He raised the gun and tried to let off a stream of bullets – it was empty and they had no clips. She saw him yell in fury and she knew exactly how he felt.

Suddenly a huge bang sounded over the high pitched engine noise and Hermione watched in horror as the boat they were sitting in started to come apart in the middle. A spell had finally landed and was eating the boat into nothingness. Just as it almost touched Draco’s leg, they both jumped up – the boat lurching as she let go of the accelerator. Already on the move Draco grabbed her and pitched them over the edge into the waters below.

Silence, strange and whirling hit her ears as her head went under the water, it was like escaping into another world. She had a moment to hope there were no predators in the water before her head popped up on the surface. The rapids which seemed reasonably big in the boat appeared huge and all-encompassing now that she was on their level.

She flew down the river narrowly avoiding rocks where she could, feeling like a ragdoll in a washing machine. She really had no control and if the goddess wanted her smashed against a rock, Hermione could do nothing to stop it. She’d lost Draco – she had no idea where he was – the few moments her head was above the waterline she saw nothing except the other boat finally pulling apart as the rocks became too large to navigate over with spells. She saw the wizard appear on the shoreline with a few of the men. She knew things were bleak that despite the relief she felt knowing her wand wasn’t broken it was still in enemy hands. She had a split second to wonder why he hadn’t Apparated to their boat or immobilized them instead of chasing them, but it really didn’t matter at that moment. He threw a few spells in her direction but none hit their mark; then she was underwater again. Mother Nature was one hell of a cover.

Gasping for air she bobbed to the surface, and realised the water had smoothed out once more – she looked frantically around for Draco but couldn’t see him. Her stomach tightened – was he dead? She didn’t think too long on why this disturbed her so much, considering not twenty minutes earlier she’d been imagining killing him herself. She didn’t even think about the relic which was strapped to him – she just tried to see his blonde head bobbing along – she couldn’t. After everything they had just experienced in the last 24 hours she felt a strange connection form between the two of them. Sure it wasn’t based on trust or friendship, hell it wasn’t even based on mutual like. It was two people thrust into a violent situation who suddenly found themselves on the run, it was an adrenaline-ship - one she was surprised to realise she wasn’t ready to give up on.

It took her a moment, as she slid through another not so rough patch of rapids, to figure out why the river had decided to smooth out.

Panic hit – it hit hard and fast.

Just as she tried desperately to stroke out for the shore which she knew with a sinking heart was too far away, she saw Draco – he was trying to swim towards her. Her relief at seeing him alive was short lived. She yelled, hands waving in the air, head bobbing underneath every time she jumped up.

“Don’t follow me, go to the shore,” she screamed, he didn’t falter. “It’s a fucking waterfall – go back!”

She didn’t get to see whether Draco heard her or not as she turned around and smacked into a huge rock, just as the river started its rapid pace of hitting the no-return zone of the waterfall. Hermione tried to keep her eyes open, but she’d hit the rock hard, and as the roaring of the waterfall rose up around her – she felt blackness cloak her.

~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~

Draco surfaced just as he saw Hermione bobbing in the water yelling at him, did the silly witch not realise he couldn’t hear her over the roar of the waterfall….the what?

His heart jackhammered in his chest when he realised Hermione was going to go right over – and there was nothing he could do. He swam towards her and it was only when he got marginally closer that he realised he’d just completely ballsed up his own escape plan. Not for one second did he think about how he was going to get out of this. His first reaction was to get his partner, then get to safety. He ignored the little question-mark which blinked at calling Granger his partner in this. Well, what the hell else could he call the stupid twit, his enemy? Not for some time - he realised in a moment of clarity. Why in hell was it that as you faced a life and death moment you have a second of clarity – he didn’t hate Granger – just really disliked her – it changed his perception of their relationship more so than if he’d been told he’d lost his magic. Next thing he knew he’d be calling her attractive…

Dislike or not, watching Granger die was not something Malfoy was willing to let happen – he had many more arguments and snide comments up his sleeve reserved just for her and if he didn’t get the chance to say them – he may just explode. Although – he still blamed her for this situation, she was the one who got on the damn boat. Draco was still fighting his admiration at her boating skills, he hated it when people did things better than him – especially when that person was Granger. Next time he would steer the boat and show her exactly who was more skilled.

As he continued towards her he saw Hermione smack into a large boulder face first – Draco watched as her eyes fluttered shut and then she slumped in the water, limp and malleable. His stomach clenched for a split second - he swam faster.

It wasn’t enough.

She went under just as the lip of the waterfall appeared – he watched helplessly as her body flew off the side down into god knows what. Draco braced himself and floated after her. Panic, fear and a strange quiet acceptance filled him as the edge appeared. Water roiled around him, loud, rough and cold, he snorted as water flew up his nose and he coughed. The current took over his body, he couldn’t swim any way at all; he was stuck. Then the edge appeared – huge and unforgiving in front of him. Draco refused to shut his eyes – he wanted to look at his mortality front on.

He went over.

In the end Draco couldn’t help but shut his eyes, his body was not his own – he felt weightless as the sensation of falling from a great height hit him, he couldn’t breath – there was too much water and foam. Then quicker than he imagined he hit the ground – well that’s what it felt like. He had tried to drop like a pin – but landed the way the mighty waterfall wanted him to. The water at the bottom churned, he felt beaten and bruised – sore and exhausted, but alive. He thought his knee may be twisted, hell it could be broken for all he knew. But he was alive – the thought exhilarated him, then he crashed – Granger.

It was almost impossible to see anything under the fall of the water, white wash and foam filled his vision – the river had tapered into a narrower flow down the bottom, but it was still too huge to find one small unconscious witch. But he tried.

Taking in one huge deep breath he dived; reaching out and searching. He opened his eyes but could only see shapes – the water was still murky, it wasn’t clear like a natural spring. Five times he tried this before despair at finding her started to take over.

“Granger, you stupid bint – where the fuck are you?” He yelled into the waterfall’s wrath.

He dove again, this time he saw a murky shape further out from the actual fall, he swam for it – praying for the first time in his existence that he had found Granger. He had never ever wanted to see her small frame more than he did at that moment.

He dived deeper and reached out, his hand meeting fabric. Relief fled through him and he ignored why he was so happy to find her – he reasoned he just didn’t want to be the one to tell Potter his favourite book-worm had come to an untimely end. They had a shaky truce as it was – he couldn’t imagine Potter’s wrath if he told him he’d let Granger die.

Draco spun her around and without thought he grabbed her head between his palms and pressed his mouth over hers, breathing air into her lungs. He pulled her into a tight hug and jerked his arms around her back pushing her lungs. He exhaled again, come on, breathe – whirling through his head as he swam for the surface. Suddenly she coughed, bubbles and water flying out of her mouth and nose, she looked at him wide eyed in panic for a moment as he grabbed her and pushed the last of his air into her mouth.

They broke the surface and Hermione pulled away, both of them gasping for air, her eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and something else. They were inches apart; his arms had somehow snaked around her waist as they swam for the surface and Hermione’s own arms clung around his neck. She looked away and coughed up the last of the water in her lungs, gasping and holding onto him like if she let go she would fall back under the surface. Her eyes held an edge of crazy panic as she looked back at the drop they had survived. He couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through – though he figured it would have been easier to be out of it than to be conscious for the whole trip down. He shivered at the memory then realised Granger was still being held rather close in his arms. She was upset and almost drowned, he would allow this one and only time of weakness with her. Then the thought she’d almost died slammed through him. He had literally just seen Granger nearly die – this thought settled wrongly through him and he didn’t know why.

She was still sucking in large gulps of air, but looking less pale and he found a traitorous hand come up and push a tendril of wet hair away from her face – tucking it behind an ear – what was wrong with him?

Breathing heavily, Hermione’s large chocolate brown doe eyes looked into Draco’s, searching for something, he didn’t know what. He seemed to be doing the exact same thing back; suddenly they flew at each other, lips meeting in a frenzy of heat and adrenaline.

~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*

Draco’s lips were hot on her own, the pressure and intense heat they were creating making Hermione giddy. His hands tightened on her hips and pulled her in even closer, without thought Hermione felt her own legs envelope his waist, pressing her heat against him. It was the most insanely perfect moment in all the chaos. She still couldn’t fathom they had survived the waterfall’s drop, this thought soon fled as Draco’s hot wet mouth started to attack her, she felt shards of lust run rampant through her.

Moving his lips against hers she felt his tongue gently coax open the seam of her mouth – the explosion of heat which curled through her insides took her by surprise. Every thought in her head disappeared except what she was experiencing right now – it was dangerous but she so very rarely let go completely. Hermione pulled herself up against him more, just so she was a little higher than him in the water and began to give him hot, wet, open mouthed kisses. He growled low in his throat as his hands skimmed up her sides barely coming in contact with her breasts, but close enough for her to wriggle in anticipation. Then his hands cupped the sides of her face as he pulled her down into a more direct line of kissing – he explored every part of her mouth and lips, it was making her lose reason – it was making her more turned on than she’d ever been in her entire lifetime. How had she lived and loved and never felt this insane electrifying connection with anyone?

She shifted again, feeling Draco’s rock hard cock against her; it felt naughty and delicious at the same time. Merlin, did she do that with one hot kiss, her – Hermione Granger – self-proclaimed good girl? She didn’t feel like being good at the moment – she felt like being very bad. Her instincts kicked in and she pushed against his hardness, rubbing slightly making him groan, her own moan mirrored his, it sounded hot. Malfoy’s growl was so deep and almost out of control, making sparks start in her stomach. She let her hands trail down the front of him, wriggling them between their bodies, until she found what she was searching for. Crap, he was huge, even with the cold water and tight pants – Hermione stifled an agonisingly lustful whimper. She felt his cock twitch under her hand as she squeezed experimentally through the fabric.

“Hermione, are you there? Bloody fucking useless Comm’s.”

“Christopher?” Jerking away from Draco, Hermione went red as Christopher’s voice infiltrated her hazy mind. She let her leg drop, accidently hitting Draco’s knee – he yelled in pain. He must have hurt it in the fall. There were a lot of things hazy in her mind at the moment – like why the fuck had she just jumped Malfoy? Had she forgotten her natural scorn for him as they inappropriately kissed – well maybe not all of him was to be scorned she amended – his lips were sinfully skilful and his cock was…nothing to do with her, she quickly thought. Oh god, she’d just been touching Draco Malfoy’s family jewels – where the hell was her head? This was wrong, oh so wrong…yet so right, a voice counter-whispered.

Sending a quick thanks to Christopher for diffusing a situation which could only have ended awkwardly; she looked up and saw Draco quickly look away from her – but she’d seen enough. He appeared furious. She ducked her head as they slowly made their way to the edge of the rocky shore of the water. “Answer me,” she hissed to Christopher. Nothing.

They were silent as they reached the edge of the river, but Hermione could feel her face burning bright red, she could feel the heat in it – she was mortified at her lack of control. It had to be the adrenaline of the moment – they had almost died after all. It was only natural to hold onto somebody who had experienced the same. That’s all it was, she lied to herself – it wasn’t something as ludicrous as her starting to like the bloody git…oh Merlin, she had a horrible suspicion she didn’t hate him with her very being anymore. Malfoy saving her life kind of made all her arguments about hating him invalid. But that did not mean she wanted to kiss him or anything else – the thought of that ‘anything else’ made her insides tight. Hermione needed a holiday.

Draco took a bit of time to lift himself out of the water, even with her help; he sat there on the edge for a moment holding his knee and definitely avoiding her gaze. “You shouldn’t be throwing yourself at men if you already have a boyfriend, Granger.”

She stood behind him absolutely stunned into silence, what the hell was he talking about – then it dawned, Christopher. Malfoy must have thought she said his name because she felt guilty. She went to explain herself then stopped – why bother.

“You threw yourself at me,” she replied indignantly instead.
He spluttered and looked up at her, the arch of his eyebrow almost evil. She couldn’t help her eyes which flicked to his lips, his soft, kissable – damn it. “I saved your bloody life – ungrateful witch. Trust me, the only reason my lips came anywhere near your hideous face was because I didn’t want your rotting corpse stinking up my helicopter when I had to drag it home for the funeral.”

“Bloody hell, it was just one insignificant kiss – you’re an arsehole by the way.” Hermione retorted, furious that she was letting his words get to her, and ignoring the fact she had been rubbing against him like a wanton woman mere minutes ago.

“I’m Malfoy – what did you expect?”

For some reason Hermione thought he was being sarcastic, but was too angry to wonder why. So she did what she could and pushed aside the last five minutes and assessed what supplies they still had, which wasn’t much. The EMS did survive, strapped to the back of Malfoy’s belt; they also had the useless wand Hermione picked up from the man she’d knocked out. She didn’t even realise that she’d automatically put it in her own wand’s sheath on her thigh. They had no food, no shelter nothing else except the relic piece – still strapped to Draco. She definitely did not want to double check if it was still attached to his stomach – she was liable to do something else stupid – like touch his smooth skin…enough.

“What do you make of this?” Hermione held up the wand which didn’t work and watched as Draco’s face turned from surly to introspective. He held out a hand and beckoned for it.

“I haven’t seen one of these since I was a kid.”

“What, a wand?” Hermione smirked.

Draco looked up at her scowling, “It’s a training wand – they give them to Pure Blood children until they reach an age to see Ollivander. They have trace amounts of magic – why do you have one?”

Hermione ignored the pang of not knowing something about the wizarding world, although she wasn’t ‘Pure Blood’ she bitterly thought. “It was from one of the wizards who attacked our tent.”

Draco’s frown deepened, “why would wizards use these – they are practice wands – you can’t hurt yourself with them – at all…”

He pointed it at his leg and said a spell under his breath, his face instantly eased. “It can’t do damage, it literally is to teach young wizards to heal, play nice, protect and explore.”

“And you had one?” Hermione asked, unfortunately not keeping the bite from her tone.

“As much as this will shock the mighty know-it-all Granger – I was a child once. We can’t Apparate with it, but it may come in handy.” Draco sprung to his feet, angry at her for some reason. She would never fully understand this Pillock in front of her, but a small part of her wanted to try – yeah the insane part of her.

Hermione turned around to trek off into more forest when she came face to face with the robed wizard and two of his men standing directly behind her. She instantly froze and swore at the same time – seriously, this was getting ridiculous.

Hermione looked at the dark haired middle-aged wizard and knew she’d never seen him before in her life. But the familiar unease in her stomach started the moment she came within a metre of him. Why did these men make her feel sick in the stomach?

“I believe you have something I’m after, Ms Granger.” His crisp English ‘how’s your mother’ accent startled her for a moment. Who the hell were these people – was this Raul? She obviously pictured somebody whose accent would match the name. It was odd to stand in front of a wizard in full robes, especially alongside a river in the middle of god knows where. Usually full dress robes were only used on special occasions, not since the war did people dress this way. It was now part of the integration with Muggles - she frowned completely confused - he even held her wand funny.

“It’s rude not to introduce yourself, since you know who I am,” Hermione knew she was pushing her luck.

He exhaled through his nose and lifted the wand up to chest height, whoops. Holding her wand wrong was not the issue here – it was still a weapon, she tried not to show panic.

“Everybody in the wizarding world knows you and Mr Malfoy - now hand over the piece.”

Christopher’s voice suddenly barrelled through her eardrums. “The Chest – it’s gone – Gringotts’ has been breached! Merlin, Hermione if you can hear me – get the fuck out of there – come home – now!”

“Shit,” Hermione breathed, would they catch a break – ever?