Gone Astray

“So…”

“S-s-so…”

“You need to get out of those wet clothes,” Hermione stated bravely. Though she was determinedly not looking at Draco, she could clearly picture his blue tinged lips contorting into that damn smirk of his.

“A-a-after y-you.”

There was definitely no reason to look at him. She could hear the smirk in his stuttered words. She thought she would very much like to hit him, only the gesture would undoubtedly force her to look at him, and experience had shown that the move wasn’t entirely safe.

“Just give me your wand and I’ll do my best to dry us off then,” she snapped at him.

“N-no.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? That wasn’t a request, Malfoy. It was an order. Either you give me your wand or you will die. As much as that will make for a much quieter and more peaceful Christmas Eve tomorrow, a Malfoy ice sculpture will clash horribly with the decorations.”

“S-something t-t-took my w-wand in t-the w-w-water. S-stop your b-b-bitching and h-help me t-t-take off my p-pants, I c-can’t feel m-m-my fingers,” he said with an attempt at the sexy scowl he was known for, with a hint of the needy whine he used when he faked injury back in their third year at school. She would have loved to think he was faking this, but he was shaking so badly he couldn’t even begin to take hold of his coat clasp, let alone undo it. He was pale even by his standards, with frozen strands of blonde hair sticking to his forehead, others dripping down the back of his neck.

They could use sarcasm and sneer at each other all they wanted, but it wasn’t going to hide the truth in this case. And the truth of the matter was, that things had become serious. Malfoy could seriously not make it out alive if she couldn’t bite back her pride and help him. He could literally become the frozen carcass or ice sculpture she had joked about, except now it wasn’t a joke.

She knew what she had to do. Hermione dropped the solitary blanket onto the solitary bed and took a step towards him. She slowly reached out and took over Draco’s struggle with his cloak clasp, and lifted the garment off his shoulders. It was weighed down from the partly frozen water, and fell to the floor behind him with a loud squelching thud that made Hermione jump.

He leaned into her touch, not saying a word. It was very unlike him to order her to do something, actually get his way, and then not mock her mercilessly for it. Hermione decided to fill in the gap with her own forced insults.

“You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life,” she said, now working on the buttons of his black collared shirt. “But this is by far the stupidest.”

“I w-was t-t-trying to g-get us out of t-the f-forest so w-we could ap-parrate, w-which we pr-probably could d-do if we h-had our w-wands,” he grumbled his response. Hermione only half heard him. She was concentrating hard on the job at hand, counting the buttons repetitively in her head. She was now halfway done, only four buttons to go on the soaking material. Her fingers kept brushing against the bare skin underneath, sending chills of excitement to the pit of her stomach, though she tried to explain them away to the bitter cold.

Must… mock… Malfoy… Must fight off the power of that damn smirk of his!

“Too bad you decided to go for a swim and now we are stuck in someone’s decrepit little hut, with no supplies, no idea where we are, and no wands. Basically, we’re doomed.”

“W-well when y-you say it l-like that, of c-course it sounds b-bad,” he scowled, lifting his arms to help her take his shirt off. It was thrown unceremoniously to the floor to join the frozen lump that was his cloak. Now all that was left was his pants and his silly boots.

“You can take your own boots off, can’t you?”

“Y-yes, it’s t-this zipper that’s g-giving me t-t-trouble,” he smirked at her.

Hermione almost choked on her tongue, while quickly retreating to the other side of the room as fast as her frozen feet would allow. It was in the negative degrees, they were soaking wet, and trust Draco Malfoy to make her feel all hot and bothered.

Breathe… This is strictly professional.

She slowly turned around, mustering up her best attempt at an irritated glare and stomped back over to him.

“B-bravo, Granger. L-little overdone w-with the s-stomping b-b-but I think overall n-not a b-b-bad performance. N-now b-be a g-g-good little w-witch and t-take off my p-pants.”

“You’re making it very easy to hate you right now…” she mumbled.

“Y-yes, too bad y-you don’t.”

“Says who?” she challenged, roughly tugging at his waistband, staring defiantly into his eyes.

“Me,” he whispered huskily, leaning over so his lips were right against her ear, tickling the sensitive skin there. A shudder ran down her spine and through to the tips of her toes, and it had nothing to do with the cold. His shaking arms wrapped around her slim waist and pulled her into a graceful dip. At once, his lips claimed hers in a bruising, long overdue kiss. Her arms enveloped his neck, while she met his tongue with all the ferocity of starved lioness, delving into his mouth to reclaim the control she had momentarily surrendered when he kissed her so unexpectedly. Heat emanated from their points of contact. It felt so good… It felt so right. The flutters in her stomach, the whooshing feeling that was starting between her legs, the way his crunchy, frozen hair felt between her fingers- just everything. It was too perfect for words.

After the lack of oxygen finally forced them apart, Draco’s hands flew to the bottom hem of Hermione’s sweater. He lifted the partially drenched knit material over her stomach, realized she wore another underneath, and continued to pull it up and over her head. He then slid one hand under her turtleneck, softly caressing her smooth skin with a single, frozen finger. It really did feel like ice, and he was still shivering severely despite their heated snogging. She reached out her own shaking hand, and undid the zipper on his pants, then slowly pulled them down his sculpted thighs. His hipbones stood out clearly just above the band of his boxer shorts, and be damned if they weren’t soaking wet as well.

“You should get under the blanket. You know… once you’ve umm… finished.” She stood up as he shimmied his way out of his pants and boots. She had only just realized that he would have to get completely naked in order to be warm again.

“You’re w-wet too,” he pointed out.

And getting wetter by the minute if you don’t cover up and stop looking at me like that!

“Yes well… I’ll turn around, so you can get under the covers. Then you can turn away and close your eyes so I can get in. Then we’ll just umm… sleep until morning, ok?” she finished with a squeak. Not a good time for her voice to go pubescent; she was trying to sound pro-sexual! Err… professional!

He didn’t wait for her to turn around, just smoothly lowered his boxers, stepped out of them, and climbed into the bed. Hermione whipped around just in the knick of time, but had to fight with some unknown part of her brain that kept nagging at her to get a glimpse. She heard the squeaks of the old mattress as he got in, and cautiously turned, though she kept her eyes shut tight.

“T-this is d-definitely not s-sanitary,” Malfoy grumbled, pulling the blanket around him.

“Well deal, and turn around and close your eyes so I can get in. I’m freezing.”

She checked to make sure he was indeed looking away, then undressed as quickly as possible. She had worn layers like a sensible person, but somehow all of them seemed to be soaked through. She got down to her knickers and bra, which were only slightly damp, and decided to leave well enough alone.

“Scoot over,” she ordered. He moved almost an entire inch to the side, and mumbling to herself about his immaturity, she crawled in.

“So… “

“So… “

“Goodnight then,” she choked out.

“I’m n-not tired.”

“Oh…”

There was silence for a while, the only noise being the rattling bedsprings from their shaking bodies.

“C-cold?” he asked her. She nodded her head, staring fixedly at the black ceiling.

He scooted closer.

“W-warmer?” he whispered. She shook her head no, lowering her lids and taking a deep, calming breath. His hand snaked its way over to her opposite hip and pulled her onto her side, so she would have to face him. Suddenly his body was up against her… Their noses were practically touching… His hot breath was tickling her cheek… His dark eyes gazing upon her heavily lidded ones, daring her to give in to him.

“Warmer?”

She finally met his penetrating gaze, and her icy limbs seemed to melt from the intensity. She shook her head no once again, as a playful smile graced her features.

She was silently saying yes to him…