A Day and A Night

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Chapter 2 - A Bed and A Blast:

“Do you want another crisp?” Hermione asked Draco when came out of the bathroom, after having taken a shower, with a towel low around his hips, and another one was in his hand, as he dried his hair.

Hermione averted her eyes, even as he said, “No, I don’t want a crisp. I don’t want a crisp, a pretzel, sweets, fizzy drinks or the like. I want real food, a steak medium rare, if you will.”

He sat on the one and only bed and finished drying his hair. Hermione was on the floor, and she tried very hard not to look at the half-naked man in the room, which was as hard as not looking at the white elephant in the room…one just could not help but stare. She turned back to all the files around her, and said, “If I could conjure food for you, I would. I even offered to Apparate back to the place 23 kilometers back to get you real food, but you said no."”

Ignoring her, he slipped on a pair of jeans, thank goodness he stepped back in the bathroom to do so, and then he said, “I thought I told you no work tonight.”

She giggled. “And I would listen to you, why?” she asked.

She placed the piece of parchment that was in her hand on top of a pile of other papers, and crawled over to her satchel. Draco watched her with interest as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. She had a rather nice bum, he thought. Then he mentally slapped himself for looking, or even thinking, about Hermione Granger’s bum. Merlin help him.

She plugged her computer into a wall outlet and said, “I want to download this information into my computer.”

“You use a computer?” he asked.

“I couldn’t live without it,” she admitted. She sat with her back against the dresser, and her legs out in front of her. While her laptop booted up, she said, “Do you ever use one?”

He shrugged. “They’re good for video games,” he said.

“How old are you?” she asked. She shook her head and said, “I swear, what is it with men and computer games?”

He threw a pillow from the bed at her, hitting her on the head, and he said, “I’m as old as you are, Granger, and so what? I like Muggle computer games. Sue me.”

She propped the pillow behind her back, and began to type on her laptop. “Actually, you’re a bit younger than me. I turned 27 last month. You’re only 26, and have been for only four months.”

“You know my birthday, do you?” he asked. He opened another bag of treats and turned on the telly with the remote. The telly was mounted directly over her head, on the wall.

She looked up and said, “Turn that down, please.”

“Why, your computer doesn’t have sound,” he said.

“Please, I’m working,” she complained. “I may not be able to use my computer once we reach Glendora, because of all the magic, so I have to get this done now.”

He turned the telly up louder and threw the second pillow at her.

“Draco!” she yelled.

He turned off the telly, and scooted to the edge of the bed, even as he said, “SH, Granger, be quiet.”

“That’s rude.”

“Shut up,” he said. She watched him as he stood up and went to the window. She closed her laptop and stood up to join him. She went to the window, but he moved so that her body was behind his.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I heard a noise,” he said. He continued to stare out at the dark night. There were no lights in the mostly abandoned car park where they had left her car. She looked out as well, standing beside him.

“Draco, why aren’t there any other cars parked out in the lot?” she asked, pulling on the back of his t-shirt with her hand. "My car appears to be the only one out there."

He didn’t look at her, but he said, “No clue.”

“Didn’t the desk clerk tell you that all the other rooms were full?” she asked. She went to the door, and started to open it.

He rushed up behind her and slammed it shut with the pad of his hand. She turned around and said, “Stop slamming doors that I open!”

He ignored her and pulled back the curtains again. She turned to the window and stepped under his arm, to look out as well.

There was a flash of light, and her car, which was parked directly in front of their room, exploded.

Draco pulled Hermione to the floor, and as the petrol tank caught flame. A fireball shot up into the sky, he placed his body on top of hers, even as glass and wooden splinters from the window and door rained all over them.

They both stayed where they were for many moments. Finally, he started to his knees, and she turned to her back.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, staring down at her. He noticed that she had a large cut on her arm.

She shook her head no, since she was too shocked to speak. She sat up, and he reached for her, and began to brush glass shards from her hair. He said, “Stay down for a moment.” He hopped up and went through the giant hole in the wall, and watched as her car burned.

She wasn’t about to stay put. She shook her head, to remove more glass and debris, and then she walked up behind him. She started by him, but he placed his arm out in front of her, to stop her. “What do you think, Malfoy?” she asked.

He said, “I think I’m glad we didn’t bring my car.”

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Two hours later, after the Muggle police and fire patrol had been called, and they had procured another room, almost identical to the first one, they were finally ready for sleep, for the most part.

Hermione found herself staring up at the ceiling as she lay on her back, and she finally asked, “So you say the man at the desk, when you checked in the first time, apparently didn’t even really work here.”

“Apparently, or that’s what the night manager just told us,” Draco explained. He slipped out of his jeans, pulled off his shirt, and slipped under the covers in only his boxers. Hermione was on top of the covers, fully clothed. She turned to look at him quickly, then averted her gaze toward the ceiling again.

“And they apparently had more than one room available, since we’re in another one now,” she stated, in a monotone voice. She was trying to work out all the details in her head.

“Apparently,” he answered.

“And they still do,” she said. She turned to her side, and put her hands under her head, to look at him. “So let me ask you a question. If they have more than one room available, why are we in the same room?”

“I think its better that we remain together.” That was all the explanations he deemed necessary. He turned so his back was to her.

She could see the skin of his back and shoulder glow in the light of the moon as it flitted through the gaps in the drapes. Hermione could see a mole on his back. She had an undeniable urge to reach out and touch the mole, but she didn’t. She could see the definitions of his muscles, and how taut and strained they seemed. She could tell he was tense, and was no where near relaxing. Still though, he had a nice back.

“Do you think that my car exploding was an attempt to stop us from going to Glendora?” she asked.

He turned to his back. “Don’t you?”

“What did the Muggle police tell you?” she asked.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“They told you to go to sleep?” she asked, sarcastically.

She turned to her other side, with her back to him. He looked at her hair. It was still wet, from the shower she had just taken. He looked at her lower arm. She had a large cut from the broken window. She put three plasters on it, but he could still see it. He watched the rise and fall of her shoulder, from her steady breathing. He looked at the way her hand rested on her hip. He looked down at her bum again. It really was a nice bum, and so what if he thought so? He wondered if she was going to stay in her clothing. He watched as she brought her arm up to her other arm, and she placed her hand over her injury, as if she were in pain.

He asked, “Did you clean your cut good?”

“No,” she said solemnly, not looking at him. “I cleaned it bad.”

“Whatever, see if I care,” he spat. After a few more tense moments of silence he said, “Sorry to hear about you and Adrian, by the way.”

She turned to her back. They were both on their backs, looking up at the ceiling, both trying hard to look anywhere but at each other.

“Really?” she said. She turned her head toward him. “I heard you had told him that it was high time he kicked me to the curb.”

“I never!” he said, full of indignation. He sat up so he could face her. She looked up at his face and she laughed.

“I’m joking; besides, I broke up with him, not the other way around, so I kicked him to the curb.”

“Okay…and you know that I would never have said anything like that, although I didn’t think you were especially suited for each other,” he decided.

She repeated his statement from earlier and said, “Whatever.”

“Go to sleep,” he finally repeated.

“You’re so bossy,” she complained. "Everyone always says I'm the bossy one, but you have me beat in the bossy department." She turned to look at him.

“Whatever,” he said again, although he smirked.

“Whatever,” she said back, with a small smile.

He closed his eyes, and said again, “Go to sleep.”

She finally complied, although it seemed to him that it took forever. When he was finally assured that she was sleeping, he climbed out of bed, and padded silently over to the toilet.

He turned on the light, and with his phone firmly in his hand, he dialed Potter.

“Damn, it’s late, Malfoy,” was how Harry answered the phone.

“There was an attempt on our lives tonight.”

“What happened?” Harry asked. Draco explained how they were told there was only one room, how he heard strange noises, and then her car exploded, ending with, “and the Muggle authorities could find no accelerants or reason for the explosion.”

“You think it was caused by magic?” Harry asked.

“I found traces of magic, yes, when I examined what was left of her car,” Draco said.

“Have you told her yet why you’re there with her,” Harry asked.

“I thought it was decided that I shouldn’t,” he said to the senior Auror.

Draco could hear Harry sigh. “I wish the Ministry hadn’t asked her to help them with this. Just watch out for her. She can get one-minded about things. She’s going to go after this like a rabid dog, and she won’t stop until she gets answers, or she gets killed. If you don’t find any clues to these murders after a few weeks, you both are to come back.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Draco clipped.

He closed his phone and walked back out to the bedroom. She was sitting up in the bed, the bedside lamp on his side turned on, and her computer on her lap. She didn’t even look up at him as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom. He turned off the bathroom light, and went over to the bed. He stared down at her and decided that Potter was right - she was one-minded, and bullheaded, and once something proved a challenge for her, she wouldn’t give up on it, and that worried him. He wasn’t about to let a double murder be the death of him, and so he suppose he would have to make sure it wasn’t the death of her, either.

He slammed her laptop shut. She looked up shocked, and said, “Stop slamming things shut on me!”

He laughed, took her laptop from her lap, and he took it over to his side of the bed, and placed it underneath. He crawled back under the covers and said, “Go to sleep.”

“I mean, really Malfoy, it was rude enough earlier, before we left today, and you slammed my car door shut without warning,” she began.

He sat up for a moment, turned off the light she had turned on and said, “Go to sleep.” He punched his pillow.

“And then you slammed my boot shut when I wanted to get my research, and then you slammed the door of our other room shut when I tried to open it,” she continued.

“GO…TO…SLEEP!” he growled.

“And now you slam my computer shut! My computer! Mine!”

He turned so suddenly that she cowered while she sat up in the bed, and pressed as far up against the headboard as she could. He got up on his knees, grabbed her shoulders, and he actually SLAMMED her onto her back, on the bed. Then he loomed over her and said, “Do you want me to slam my lips to yours to get you to shut the hell up?”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say such a ludicrous thing, but it shut her up quickly. Her eyes widened, her mouth closed, and she didn’t move a muscle. He let go of her shoulders, moved back to his side, SLAMMED his fist into the pillow again, and then said, “Good. Go to sleep!”

They were both quiet for so long, that he was certain that she had finally gone to sleep. However, she finally said, “I would like to see you try to shut me up.”

He turned slowly this time, but she had already turned to her side away from him, and she was breathing slowly and evenly. If he wanted to shut her up, by Merlin, he would, he really, really would.

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