The Dragon s bride Page 0,59

missive to Pete' s leg via a slim, metallic cuff, and then fed him the Owl Treats. Pete swallowed three in one sitting.

"Safe trip," he whispered before launching the bird into the air.

The owl's wing span was impressive. As was his beauty. He soared in a perfect circle once over the Owlery, before disappearing soundlessly out of sight. They stood there in silence for a moment, listening to the night time sounds and the faint whistle of the wind as it passed over the top of the Owlery

. "What does that mean, 'Rainbow Connection' "? Draco asked her, after tucking away his gauntlet. He trailed a finger along the peeling, rainbow-coloured phrase on her t-shirt, faintly grazing her navel.

Hermione realised she was standing under the same shaft of moonlight he had used to read the letter earlier. He was looking with half-amused puzzlement, at Kermit. The estimable Mr. The Frog was sitting on a lily pad under the aforementioned rainbow.

Hermione was caught completely off guard. How did one explain Kermit the Frog to a wizard? The answer seemed relatively simple. One probably didn't.

"It' s a Muggle thing," she ended up saying, feeling odd. Insanity, she decided, was trying to explain the Muppets or Sesame Street to Draco Malfoy, at two-thirty in the morning whilst hiding from a team of ten Aurors who were likely to Petrify them before asking questions.

"And therefore not worthy of elaboration to someone who is not a Muggle?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, sounding angry.

"I didn't- no!"

"This is just like that whole Pope thing in the carriage on the way to see my father," he muttered.

She thought she had surely misheard him. "Pope thing?"

"You made a reference to the Pope, and when I asked you what you meant with your sarcastic little dig concerning my father, you assumed I didn't know who the Pope was."

Hermione was incredulous at the turn in conversation. It was almost reminiscent of the arguments she sometimes had with Harry when he was being difficult. But then Harry's comebacks didn't feel like a verbal scourging.

"You don't like being pacified, do you?"

"Genius," he told her, nearly tapping her on the head for emphasis. "Did you work that out on your own?"

She made a frustrated sound. "My God, you really are impossible to get along with."

He folded his arms and stared at her. "Why, have you been trying to get along with me?"

It was a trick question. He excelled at trick questions. And at strategic topic changing. Well, two could play at that. She led ten seconds tick by.

"You know, I'm glad Dumbledore told the school what really happened yesterday."

"Are you?" he asked, his voice flat. He was whispering.

Hermione wondered that she hadn't noticed how close they were standing together. Her heart-rate sped up slightly when he brushed a fluffy white feather from where it was resting on her collarbone. The dragon that was tattooed onto her thigh seemed to be doing some sort of slow, psychic glide up her body. The feeling was much too bizarre to get used to, even after nearly a week of feeling it every now and then.

"If he hadn't said anything, if you hadn't been there yourself to witness what happened, would you have thought I was responsible for sending that Mark into the sky?" There was a question behind his question, and it had something to do with the fact that he was looking at her as if he were a pirate and she were ill-gotten booty.

"No, I know better than to make assumptions," she shot back, faltering slightly on the last word. Damn the darkness, she couldn't make out his expression. He was probably using his 'how very Gryffindor of you' look.

"Gryffindors may make for good martyrs. But they' re terrible liars. It shows too much in your eyes."

"I doubt you can see my eyes in the dark, Malfoy."

"Too bad," he responded, and Hermione realised she didn't need to be able to see his face to know that he was smiling. It came through his voice. "Only because they take on a most pleasing shade of umber when you're angry, which seems to happen often enough around me," he added, slightly sheepishly.

Hermione idly wondered what a snowball fight in hell looked like. No doubt that such a thing was now possible, seeing as Draco Malfoy had paid her a compliment.

"We should probably get going," she rushed out, remembering the risk they were taking, and she didn't think this only referred to them meeting outside of

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