situations.
"I've got you. Stop thrashing."
Hermione hadn't realized she had been and immediately went still. He found her other flailing hand and took firm hold of it.
"Where's your wand?" he asked. She could make out the strain in his voice now.
"In my dress," she gasped out. They were about a minute away from being discovered.
"Ok, that's alright," he said, though he sounded a little disappointed. "Now, I'm going to lift you a little. You need to use me to climb the rest of the way up yourself because if I lean forward anymore, we're both going to fall. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
She understood that the fall was probably going to end before either of them would have time to cast a spell to save themselves, either from the hard marble of the floor downstairs or the from the Death Eaters in Lucius' study.
Her right hand continued to slip through his grip and the pain in her arms was becoming excruciating.
Slowly, he lifted her up using his forearms. As soon she was able to, she took tight hold of his shoulders. Grabbing fistfuls of his jumper, she scrambled up and over him, aided by his hands at her waist.
Finally, they were back on the carpeted landing. He rolled them away from the ledge. Hermione was too relieved to do much else besides slump against him. His arm was still draped around her waist.
For what seemed like an eternity, they were just breathing.
And then, "I forget you're staircase-challenged."
He was of course referring to her near mishap on the steps leading to the Owlery, where they had carried out clandestine meeting years ago.
He was a complete arse to be amused at a time like this.
"I do not have difficulty with staircases! It's not my fault your stupid house has a landing that just leads into empty space."
She thought he might be trying not to laugh. "It' s not usually empty space. This wing is restricted. The stairs were dismantled by your Ministry."
It's your Ministry too, she wanted to correct him. Why did he always insist on grouping himself in another category altogether?
He was still holding her. She tried to look up at him, her nose bumped up against his chin, which was smooth. He must have had a shave before the party.
He tilted his head downwards to make it easier for her.
To make what easier for what, her brain asked, but that question was mostly rhetorical. She knew exactly what was happening.
And then there was silence, because silence was what you got when two people in pitch black darkness decide to hold their collective breath.
She couldn't see anything in the dark, but she somehow knew that his lips had parted just so she could she fit hers between them. For a split second, there was just air, the intimate sharing of breath, and then there was exquisitely soft sensation.
He caught her lips as if he wasn't sure how to proceed. It was maddeningly whisper-soft. Since when was Draco Malfoy ever anything less than completely sure of himself?
Her head spun, the blood in her body seemed to be rushing directly to her face, making her lips even more sensitized.
He made a low noise, rendered incredibly arousing because he sounded so uncertain. She felt the tip of his tongue make a heated, wet slide along her lower lip to gently taste her. She felt the deep breath he drew in from her. Her mouth opened to deepen the kiss and allow him more access, but he retreated.
By the time she opened her eyes, the moment was well and truly over. He got to his feet and then helped her up. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his scowl. Suddenly, she felt wretched over what had just transpired. Really, when Draco was concerned, she seemed to have no control over her own body.
"Winter is waiting for you in the ballroom," he said, and you could have chilled beer to that tone.
**
There were three Death Eaters standing guard outside Lucius' study. Goyle manage to take the first two by surprise with the aid of a well-aimed Bottomless Pit.
Despite its name, Bottomless Pits were not in fact, bottomless. It was just a rather long drop. Magic held the space in place until someone got you out. Or at least you could hope someone would get you out
But by the time his hiding spot was discovered, the third one proved difficult. The blasting stones were in his pocket, but he was hesitant to hurl one before Draco