Forgotten: A Dramione Fanfiction

Chapter 7

Hermione POV

I pretend to study the map while following Draco to the Slytherin Corridor, but I can't seem to focus on anything except the concept of doing this with him for the rest of the year.

How would it all turn out in the end? Will we become close friends while on our nightly rounds? Or will something come between any hope of that concept and we remain enemies like before the Battle?

I sneeze and am forced to look up. I catch Draco peeking back at me, but he quickly swivels back around. I grin slightly. I can sense us growing closer with every step we take together.

We travel down several flights of stairs and I stuff the map inside of my bag. The setting is dark and each wall is made of gloomy grey brick.

The only light comes from dim chandeliers hanging from the ceiling about every twenty-five feet. The walls are plastered with paintings of each Slytherin head of house. Their gaze follows me down the hallway, and I take step closer to Draco.

He notices, and chuckles,"Cozy, isn't it?"

I laugh, his sarcasm amusing. He has lived down here for nearly seven years, and his poking fun at it is refreshing.

The air is colder down in the dungeons, and I don't particularly like it, or cold things for that matter. The warmth is more suiting for my tastes. I think about Ron's fiery red hair and warm, soothing skin.

Closing my eyes, I realize how much time I've spent with him and no one else. My black flats clap against the tiles as I daydream about all of the little things we've shared. The hot butterbeer in winter, and the failed Quidditch lessons when he tried to teach me. Even though these memories feel my heart with joy, I shiver and fold my arms over my chest.

Draco doesn't seem fazed by the temperature. His pale skin gives the illusion of ice, along with his pale blue eyes.

Draco clears his throat. I snap out of my delusions and wait for him to say something, but his facial features keep contorting like he cannot decide what to say.

I decide to speak up, then throw out the idea. He rubs his neck like he is embarrassed, and we stand awkwardly again. For some reason, I feel guilty thinking about Ron when Draco is in the room. I don't know why- Malfoy and I aren't even close! Just because I want to protect him from my boyfriend's jealousy, doesn't mean I should let him unknowingly make me feel guilty.

I rip out the map from my shoulder bag and search for the next route. I am suddenly angry with myself, Ron, and Draco. I almost tear the map, but remind myself to cool down. Being hot-headed isn't one of my finer qualities. Besides, I didn't have a valid reason to be upset.

Counting to ten, I gently unfold the paper and gaze at it. I can feel a presence behind me.

Draco. I didn't even realize he moved. I don't feel any body heat from him, making me afraid to touch him. I imagine that I'd freeze to the core.

"Where to next?" Draco asks in his velvety soft voice. I notice a little '2' in the corner of the map on a road cutting through the eastern forest labeled Black Lake Path.

"It looks like a route around the Black Lake," I comment. Loads of students sneak through the forest during lunch to mess with the giant squid and have picnics in the sunshine, if the day was nice.

I turn around and look up at Draco. He nods and turns to lead me out of the dungeons and to the Black Lake.