Sorting Priorities (a Romione/Dramione Fic)

Chapter 15 • Mrs. Norris Got Your Tongue?

"Why are you here still?" Hermione reiterated.

Draco shushed her. "Filch's cat just came around the corner," he said. "If it knows we both came out of the same bathroom, nothing good could happen."

Hermione groaned. "This day just keeps getting worse and worse. And I still have soap in my hair," she huffed.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Be my guest and get back in, I don't care. You've seen me naked, and you should return the favor."

"Oh, honestly..." Hermione said, but slid back into the water once his back was turned and added more bubbles.

Hermione watched Draco's back as he walked around the bathroom with his back turned, inspecting the various portraits and appliances. If he grew bored as she bathed, he hid it well, the only sounds the soft trickle of water as it lapped against the bathtub's sides.

Hermione was just beginning to flush the bubbles out of the bathtub, replacing them with fresh water to rinse off with when a series of quick, shuffling footsteps sounded outside the door. She froze.

"Did you hear--"

"Shh!" Hermione said, cutting Draco off. She sat as motionlessly as she could in the tub, the only sound the quieting water in the tub. Draco had frozen, too, and he had a look of intense concentration on his face, his brows furrowed as he strained to hear more. Hermione was listening hard, too, straining her ears for any more noises, but all was silent.

Suddenly, a thin, wheezing voice cut through the air, causing Hermione to jump, the water stirring up again. "Are they in here, my pet?" they heard Filch say. "Are the vagrants hiding?" Hermione could practically hear Mrs. Norris slinking around Filch's ankles, her dirty fur sliding on his equally vile robes, and cursed the cat for its loyalty to the shifty janitor.

The corridor outside was silent after that, but Hermione knew that Filch was standing with his ear pressed against the ancient wood door, and was prepared this time for any more noises, still straining her ears for any whisper of speech or movement. Hermione knew that Filch was doing the same. Then he left, his uneven steps fading into nothingness as he walked back down the corridor. Only until the hall outside was completely silent once more did either of them dare to move again.

"That was close," Draco said, turning to face Hermione.

Even though the water was clear now, Hermione didn't bother to cover up, as she was still too shaken from their close call. "Yeah," she agreed, turning a tap with a light blue topaz stone set in it, sending a gush of clear, lily-scented water into the tub. "I suppose you ought to leave while the coast is clear for sure." She turned away from him and shut off the tap, changing to pure water to dilute the scent.

Draco, however, lingered unwillingly near the sink.

"Oh, come on, Draco, you must be bored," Hermione said, stroking a lap across the softly undulating pool, sending ripples of light dancing across the surface, reflecting patterns of light on the tiled ceiling.

"Well, as boring as this may be, Hermione, I happen to enjoy your company. I'll wait." He leaned back, resting his elbows on a sink, well at ease, and tilted his head back to watch the strands of light shifting on the ceiling in the dim moonlight filtering through the high-set window.

"Draco..." Hermione persisted, but her voice sounded thin and whiny, and she didn't finish her sentence. "Fine," she gave in, and caught a slight smirk curling his lip. He knew he had won. She continued to finish rinsing her body, then climbed out, heading for the waterfall shower to rinse her hair.

She could see Draco out of the corner of her eye, and felt a sudden flutter of self-consciousness, but shoved it down, pushing back her shoulders as water slid across her skin, cascading to the floor. She was confident. As she turned the jeweled knobs that controlled the shower, sending a wave of fresh, sparkling water onto her back and shoulders, she continued watching Draco.

His back was still turned, and his white hands messed with the knobs on the sink, sending a flurry of bubbles scurrying into the air, but the taught muscles of his back were tense, his shoulders lifted in a sressed gesture. Hermione could tell that he was thinking hard, the skin on his temples taught as his forehead crinkled, his head slightly bowed. She was just grabbing a towel when he spun around.

"H--!" he said, his face white and his mouth half-open.

"Err...?" Hermione said confusedly, toweling dry her hair and smoothing it with a spell. She cleaned and ironed her clothes with a few flicks of her wand as well while Draco groped for whatever answer it was that he was going to say. Hermione was just pulling a frosted glass changing screen across a corner when he spoke again.

"I--er--!" He stumbled over his sentence again, and Hermione finished changing back into her robes.

"What?" she asked again, more sharply this time. What was he having such difficulty choking out?

Hermione strode over to the door and stepped out. "Well, you'll just have to tell me tomorrow, because I have to go." She shut the door, and started walking back to the Gryffindor common room, her robes billowing at her quick pace. She still felt a vague sense of curiosity about what Draco had been trying to say, and mulled the problem over as she strode down the dusty carpet.

Had he been trying to ask her to Hogsmeade? Hermione felt a little thrill at the thought of going somewhere with Draco, but she dispelled the thought immediately. If she was to go to Hogsmeade, it would be with Ron and Harry, not their sworn enemy. What had it been, then? Had he tried telling her that her hair was all wrong? She reached up to her head self-consciously, then chided herself for caring so much. She'd just have to wait for Draco to be ready to say whatever it was he'd wanted to.

Turning a corner down the last corridor to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione suddenly heard pounding footsteps behind her, racing down the hall as they grew steadily louder. Hermione's face grew warm as she felt panic rising in her stomach, and her eyes darted around the walls to check for an alcove. She was past curfew! Spotting a curtained recess a few feet away from where she stood now, she quickly darted behind the curtain and heard the footsteps stop outside, her quick breath hitching in her throat.

"Hermione, I know you're there," she heard Draco's voice say.

She came relievedly out from the curtain. "Oh, thank goodness," she said. "I was worried for a second there. But shouldn't you be at the Slytherin dormitories?" She looked up at his steadily shining silver eyes that seemed to flash when he moved his head in the moonlight. She reached up and tucked a lock of his disheveled white hair behind his ear, standing up on her tiptoes as a shaft of moonlight fell on them, creating a watery pool of silver that made Draco look even whiter and more ethereal than before.

"I just wanted to tell you something," he said, putting his hands on either side of her face. Hermione saw him take a deep breath, closing his eyes, and his thumbs traced soft circkes over her temples. She leaned forward, only an inch separating their lips. He took another breath.

"I love you."

His breath whispered across her cheeks as he let the words out, the warm air tickling her lips. He opened his silver eyes, looking into her amber ones, and Hermione let out a sigh. She smiled and leaned in, closing the distance between them as she felt her heart hammering a quick beat against her ribs. Had Ron ever made her feel so light-headed?

This kiss seemed to hold more meaning to Hermione than any others so far. She felt the deep emotions that had been troubling her for so many weeks tumbling up to her mouth, spilling out and falling away as she kissed Draco; every worry that had been eating away at her dissipated in the thin moonlight. She stood there for several more minutes, or seconds, or maybe even hours--time felt meaningless, as long as she was with Draco. She was just breaking apart for air when a shout ripped through her and Draco's oasis of calm.

"OI!" Hermione jerked away from Draco, dropping her arms and stepping away as if caught in the act of committing a serious crime. She guessed she was, in the scope of things.

Her breath quickened and her heart hammered faster than before, and her face paled. Had Filch come to take them? Turn them in to McGonagall? She turned to face her assaulter, and what little color was left in her face seemed to fall away as she saw first the red hair, then the red ears, clenched fists, Gryffindor jumper, and finally Ron's incensed face. Hermione's secret had finally been discovered.