The Darkwood Wand

Night Sixteen-Spontaneous

 I've been looking forward to posting this chapter, which includes what might be my favorite quote in the entire story.

"Go away, Crooky!"

Sometimes Hermione regretted having an intelligent familiar rather than a toad or Pygmy Puff. Crookshanks now knew where she was Vanishing every night and wanted to come along. She could only imagine Draco's face if she allowed it.

Romilda was out with Cormac again, and Hermione was wearing one of her short sets, blue with snowflakes and a little polar bear on the chest. She'd considered the elf-mended black teddy, but that felt ... undiplomatic. Hermione put on her beaded bag, then brushed her hair and retied it with a blue ribbon — Draco seemed to enjoy yanking ribbons off and burying his hands in her curls.

Merlin. They might not need to schedule No. 1 on her agenda. Just the thought of him on her made her whole body flush.

Meanwhile, Hermione needed to distract her interfering familiar. "Would you like some yummies?" she crooned, rattling a box of cat dental treats. "Fishies!"

Crookshanks looked at her with contempt, then wrapped himself around her legs.

"You can't come!" Hermione snapped, untangling herself. Merlin, she sounded like Draco now. Give it another month and she'd be stalking around the castle glaring at everyone and overreacting to perfectly sensible suggestions.

She glanced at the clock: one minute to ten. The soft feel of fur around her ankle made her jump.

"No!" She backed away again. Fine, her cat liked Draco so much? She'd give him Draco.

"One more step and I'll Petrify you," she threatened.

Crookshanks gave a little snort. Bloody cat was on to her. She couldn't hex her own familiar, of course, even if she had a working wand. And it wasn't like she had a python or another cat deterrent lying around ...

Or did she?

Hermione had only seconds to spare. She dove under her bed and emerged clutching a round pink box with cat ears and a tail.

She flipped open the box's round O of a mouth. "Come along then, that's a good boy!"

Crookshanks growled and backed away, recognizing the Cat Carrier of Doom that brought him to the Awful Person with the Poky Instruments.

"What, you don't want to go in the box? Don't you like the box?" Hermione was enjoying this too much; Draco really was a bad influence.

The cat continued to retreat as Hermione flapped the box's clear porthole enticingly. "Won't it be fun in the nice box? We'll just put you in the bathroom while we—"

A white light flashed and Hermione fell onto Draco's green coverlet with a bounce, dropping the cat carrier.

Once again the bed's curtains were open and a single standing lamp lit the room. The wizard himself stood before the bed in his paisley robe, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

"What is that?" he asked. "Don't tell me you brought—"

Hermione squelched the urge to croon "Little Crookykins Boo-Boo Kitty" into the box. They didn't have that kind of time. "No," she said.

He waved a long hand, dismissing the matter. "Would you like some wine?"

"No," Hermione said again. She pulled off her bag's strap and pushed the carrier off the bed.

That was all the signal Draco needed; he promptly put a knee on the mattress and bent over her, bracing himself with his hands. His kiss, however, wasn't the urgent, demanding touch she expected. Instead he trailed soft lips over hers, his tongue swiping hers and tasting of wine.