Legilimens [Dramione]

The two of us against the world

There had always been something special about Draco's hands. She had noticed it long before she started dealing with him over the last few months. She had always observed him in her school days, especially in potions class, where, she was forced to admit, he was better than her. His long, slender white fingers handled the ingredients with a delicacy her small hands could never hope to approach.

The knife he held, and with which he was cutting the asphodel root into thin slices, seemed to have the lightness of a feather between his fingers. She looked at the same tool in her own hands, turning it over. It wasn't as weightless as it looked in his.

When she looked up, the classroom wasn't the same as before. There was noone in there, neither their fellow students nor Professor Snape. There was no simmering cauldron on the table in front of her, and at her side was he. 

His eyes, too clear to be called blue, stared down at her, and the green of his uniform, combined with the faint lights of the lamps that illuminated the classroom, gave them an unusual sparkle. 

Without a word, he raised his hand towards her face, and his slender fingers, from which she could not take her eyes off, gently grasped her chin, tilting it upwards, and then 

Din

She closed her eyes

Tum

Din Din

Tum

She opened her eyes again, discovering despite herself that she was no longer at Hogwarts in the potions room, but in her bedroom. The noise that had disturbed her came from the door, and she did not need to hear a voice to realise who it was. 

As soon as her hands unlocked the door, Ginny pushed it with such force that she wobbled backwards. The red-haired fury rushed into her living room so fast that Hermione's eyes couldn't focus on the object she was clutching in her hands. She mumbled something she didn't understand, but when her feet finally stopped, Hermione could make out what she was clutching in her hands. 

It was a newspaper. 

She squinted, trying to focus on the familiar image on the cover despite her friend's agitated movements.

"Do you want to explain to me what's going on?"

****

That morning, although not as late as the previous one, he woke up feeling more rested than ever, and with a hole in his stomach that was crying out to be filled. 

He had to admit that the Muggle food was better than expected. It had been a pleasant surprise. The previous evening he had wanted to try all the dishes on the menu.  However, he had decided to limit himself to just one, promising that as soon as he figured out how to change his galleons into Muggle money, he would take a tour of all the restaurants in London. With Hermione, of course. 

As the fog of sleep began to clear in his mind, he realised that what woke him up was not the sound of birds outside his window, nor even the sunlight filtering through the curtains. There was a strange commotion downstairs, an unusual commotion since silence always reigned in that house.

He got out of bed. On the coffee table beside the door were several copies of The Quibbler piled up, with the most recent one, from today's, on the surface. He quickly flicked his eyes over the cover, deciding, however, that he would only start reading once he understood what was going on. 

"Mippy," he called. 

As soon as the little elf materialised at his feet, he rummaged in the pockets of his coat, lying against the chair, to pull out a galleon. He handed it to the creature who, like the previous time, stood looking uncertainly at his outstretched arm.