When the Bell Tolls - Dramione

15.

November 9; 3:33pm

Hermione sucks in a breath, shooting up on the bed as she yanks her wand from her pocket, aiming it at the door. It wavers, then her hand falls to the bed beside her. Malfoy's expression doesn't change.

"Jesus!"

"Not quite."

She pushes her hair back with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other, and nearly stabs herself with her wand. Malfoy's shoulder is propped against the door frame, the elbow of his left arm resting against his side as his thumbnail runs back and forth over the tip of his index. He looks relaxed and bored, but there's something else there.

Maybe the knowledge that she's about to hex him. Private territory. Private. Territory.

"You cannot enter this room! It's a..."

She looks down after he does, and shakes her head when he looks back up expectantly. "I'm not past the frame, Granger. I haven't entered the room."

"J-- S-- That doesn't matter! You're close enough, and that's after opening the door! If you weren't such a spider, I--" 

"A spider?"

"Yes! Long limbs, creeping all about, likely poisonous, and having a creepy, dangerous vibe that woke me up!"

The corner of his mouth turns up before he fights it back, picking a thread off his loose shirt. "Actually, I said your name."

"I don't remember hearing that, so it was more likely the creepy vibe! I told you that I--"

"Your briefcase has been glowing for ten minutes."

"Ten--" She scrambles out of the bed. She had thought she brought her briefcase in, but she must have been too exhausted to think properly - it could have been a very big mistake. "Did you look at it?"

"My desire to open a magically glowing container was eclipsed by self-preservation."

He moves to the side, and she slides by him, jogging down the hall. How long was it before Malfoy decided to tell her? Or had he been watching her for the last ten minutes? One mention of her name would have woken her - though she's surprised the door opening hadn't done it - so had he let it go for nine minutes, or just been... staring at her? She was getting too comfortable. No, she was barely comfortable, she was just too tired. She wasn't waking up when she needed to. If it had been someone else...

She pulls the paperweight out of her briefcase, reading the message in the swirl of white. Potter's office. She blinks at it, then turns it in the light to see if some part of the message is behind it or in smaller lettering. Nothing. She ends the spell, running her thumb across the smooth surface.

"What is that?"

"It's--"

Crack! Loud and far too close. She shoves her hand in her pocket for the Portkey as she grabs her briefcase, making to turn, when Malfoy grabs her arm and spins her towards him. The door slams off the wall, and her hand tightens around the Portkey box until the edges dig into palm, though she barely feels it. Adrenaline pumps numbingly down her arms as she stares at Malfoy's chest, her eyes wide and unblinking.

His hand loosens on her arm but doesn't fall away, and she slowly draws her wand, holding her breath.

"Malfoy?"

Her exhale escapes her like a punch to the gut, and she makes to turn to face Harry when Malfoy's death grip stops her. "Surprised, Potter?"

She hadn't realized that, too caught up in her relief to hear Harry's voice and not someone else. Why is he surprised?