Mistaken Identities

So, I had worked out some of the plot of this story and my hardrive decided it needed to melt. The story is coming, just a lot more slowly now. Hope people like the update...

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He had guessed who she was... he had guessed why she stayed. *I am in deep shit.* She turned to deny the claim but stopped when she saw his face. He knew.

“Oh bugger,” was all she had to say. *What am I supposed to do? Should I obliviate him?* She lifted her wand and pointed it sharply.

“Don’t.” He said, not looking her in the eye.

“Why shouldn’t I? It really would be best if you didn’t remember this. For me, at least. You might get some bonus points with Daddy dear and He-Who-Is-a-Total-Wacko or they might torture you for daring to have voluntary sex with a mudblood. Frankly, I don’t care.” Hermione felt vulnerable in her bra and stilettos but she wasn’t about to show a Malfoy weakness. They were like sharks that way, able to sense blood in the water.

“Because I... I think I... just because.” He finished lamely, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. She’d never seen Draco look miserable before, or at such a loss for words.

“What’s the problem Malfoy? You practically sound like Ron.” Hermione aimed the dig at him, trying to figure out what game he was playing. She watched an angry flush spread up over the pale flesh of his throat.

“Fine! Get out... I can’t believe I even thought... just get out.” He spat at her. That sounded like the old Malfoy though it seemed to ring hollow now. That bugged her. As off as it sounded, Malfoy being a git was one of the few things in life she could count on.

“What’s going on Draco?” Her voice was sharp but her eyes showed her worry. Maybe it was her calling him by his first name but he sat down in a miserable heap on the couch. She swallowed and forced herself to focus on what he was saying and not the lean thigh peaking out of the towel.

“I don’t know. I mean, I came to the city to think; not that I’ve done much of that. Mainly, I’ve been drunk. And I just started wondering... what’s the point? And I... think I... need help...” he looked up at her and frowned. “Stop looking that like that; it’s annoying.”

“What?” Hermione was totally confused. First he’s pouring his heart out and then he’s all cranky about how she looks?

“I mean, look like you. I can’t have this conversation with some total stranger. Take the damn bead out and be you.” He was looking down his nose at her the way he always did. As if she were beneath him or not very bright.

“There’s no bead, rat-boy.” She growled at him. The man could be so annoying! “Is that what you did? How did you put that charm on a bead?” She asked, feeling a little intrigued. Draco’s jaw dropped.

“You just cast the Normalus charm on yourself? You could have killed yourself!” Draco stood angrily and stepped forward. Hermione’s eyes involuntarily dipped down to the towel that was barely clinging to his hips. With effort she dragged her eyes up to his face and put her wand between them.

“First off, I don’t know what the hell is going on so just keep your distance. Second, I was well aware of the risks and as you can see I did NOT charm myself into nothingness. Third, you’re not my father and you will not speak to me as if you were.” Hermione snapped at him. Draco’s mouth flattened.

“Then here’s a thought: You can take the charm off and I’ll show you how to charm a bead. Then we can talk. Then you can obliviate me if you don’t like my answers. We’ll probably have to leave the city to make sure nothing goes wrong with the charm. What do you think?” Draco folded his arms over his chest; his expression wasn’t giving anything away either.

“What makes you think I don’t know how to use a bead with this spell?” Hermione demanded.

“I would assume the know-it-all of Hogwart’s would use the best spell available. That’s the bead. Am I wrong in thinking you want to know it?” Draco was smirking at her. Hermione fumed. She did want to know it.

“I pick where we go and you fork over your wand right this minute,” was all she said to him. Draco nodded. “Oh, and I’m going to whip you up some veritiserum.” She added. He blanched.

“Is that necessary?” He sounded petulant.

“Gee, Draco, what do you think?” Hermione said brightly. He just sighed and nodded. Hermione frowned. He looked as tired as she felt. Something was really not right here.

“My wand is under the mattress on the left side.” He twitched his head in the direction of the bed. Hermione nodded and edged past him, wand ready to deal with him in case he was just being tricky. She tried not to pay attention to the rumpled bed and its heavy smell of sex as she dipped her hand under the mattress and pulled out his wand.

“Ok, get dressed. We’re leaving.” Hermione gave him her firmest face. He shrugged and started digging through his stuff looking for clothes.

“Are you going to watch?” Draco said over his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Nothing I haven’t seen already,” she leered back. *The hell I’m going to get outdone by the ferret.*

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Granger?” Draco looked very confused.

“Maybe you just weren’t paying attention.” She replied, shrugging as if what he thought didn’t matter. *Of course, the idea that Hermione Granger could have sexual desire is beyond the mental capacity of all the males at Hogwart’s. Wankers.* She found herself staring hungrily as he pulled black jeans up over his long form.

“You want your shirt back?” He turned, dangling it on his finger. He wasn’t smirking. Worse, he was grinning. Damn the man.

“Yes.” She struggled to keep her voice even. *What have I gotten myself into?*