Glittering Clouds

[One Shot challenge. Hermione + favorite Slytherin. Must include the words flibbertigibbet and cacophony. Pair must have forced interaction. Harry must be second character. 2000 word minimum.]

A/N: Hello everyone! I know some of you are patiently awaiting the epilogue of Letting it all Go, and I promise that it is on its way! I had a virus on my computer for a large part of the summer and was unable to get onto the internet. The virus is gone, my writer's block is gone, and I am ready to get back to it. First, though, I wanted to participate in this one shot challenge. The title comes from the Imogen Heap song with the same name. It was my inspiration for the story, so try and listen to it while you read! I do hope you enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it! Please leave a review when you are finished, as I love to see what your thoughts are, and also because it helps me stay motivated! Thanks for stopping by!

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Glittering Clouds

Summary: Sixth year Potions is a lot harder than Hermione expected it to be, especially with her best friend, Harry, performing so much better than she's used to. When her Potion's essay goes missing, the only logical thing to do is retrace her steps. Only when a storm hits, she finds herself stuck inside the Quidditch locker room with none other than her long-time nemesis!

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Hermione was beyond furious with herself. How could she have just managed to lose her Potions essay? Slughorn would never ask her to another Slug Club meeting if she didn't turn this essay in on time. She was already having trouble as it was trying to keep up with Harry and his sudden advanced skills in the class. Sending out an exasperated huff, Hermione caused her fringe to puff up away from her forehead as she stormed the grounds at Hogwarts. Frowning, she stomped down the stairs made of rocks as she headed back towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Just retrace your steps, Hermione. You'll find it." She muttered to herself as she walked, trying to ignore the rain clouds that were gathering in the sky. She'd had the essay while watching the Gryffindor team practice earlier this morning, but she hadn't seen it since. Her skin tingled with the humidity the oncoming storm created. It was nearing October, but they were still experiencing a warmer than normal season. Hermione hurried her footsteps along the closer she got to the Quidditch pitch. She ran the last few feet, throwing open the door as she came into contact with it. As soon as she entered the changing rooms, she heard the pounding of the rain on the roof and a shudder of thunder.

"Just my luck…" Hermione frowned as she peeked back out the door. The rain was coming down in buckets and the wind was whipping something fierce. It was certainly not the type of weather you ventured out into. Especially if you found your missing essay and didn't want the ink to smear. Slamming the door shut once more, Hermione turned and faced the changing room, her hands on her hips and a determined look upon her tan face.

Finally, realizing she wasn't going to find anything by just standing there, Hermione began scouring the room. She looked in the lockers, only finding dirty socks and Quidditch uniforms, before getting on her hands and knees to look under the benches. Hermione was so focused on her frantic search that she didn't notice the tall, lean figure propped against the doorway to the showers. There was a trademark smirk planted on his face and his arms were crossed as he watched Hermione wiggle across the floor, her school uniform skirt riding up higher and higher on the back of her thighs.

"Never thought I'd get the chance to see Gryffindor's Muggle Princess on all fours." He drawled, flicking his head so his blonde hair moved away from his face. Hermione squealed and promptly hit her head on a bench before managing to scuffle her way to her feet. With her wand now in hand, Hermione turned to see who had said the inappropriate comment.

"Malfoy!" She seethed, her eyes narrowing at the Slytherin before her. "How long have you been standing there?" Her wand stayed steady as it pointed at her long time enemy. Numerous protective and defensive spells rolled through her head just itching to jump off the end of her tongue at a seconds notice. How could she have been so stupid? Constant Vigilance! It was the number one rule and she'd failed to follow it all because of her damn essay.

Keeping the smirk firmly in place, Draco Malfoy pushed himself from the doorway easily and took five steps until he was right in front of Hermione, her wand now pointed directly at his chest. Instead of answering her, he uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his blond hair watching as Hermione's eyes followed his every move.

She poked him with her wand and said, "I asked you a question, Malfoy, and I expect an answer." Her gaze never wavered and Draco found himself wanting to smile at her tenacity rather than forcing the smirk to stay on his pale, pointed face.

Instead, he managed to shrug and reply, "Long enough to know you've clearly lost something important." He took a step back and gestured at her wand. "Do you plan on lowering that thing or haven't you noticed I'm unarmed?" Draco enjoyed the way her brown eyes widened just a fraction before roaming over his body trying to determine if he was lying.

Taking a tentative step back, Hermione tilted her head at the Slytherin. "Where is your wand?" She glanced about quickly before returning her gaze to his.

Draco rolled his ice blue eyes. "It's in my pocket, clearly, but I have no intention of using it, unless, of course, you use yours." The smirk was back in place now.

"What?" Hermione sputtered as his words settled in her mind. He had no plan of using his wand on her? This was Draco Malfoy—suspected Death Eater, son of Lucius Malfoy, and Slytherin bad boy. "I don't understand, Malfoy."

"I have more important things to worry about than hexing a silly little Muggleborn in the Quidditch changing rooms." Draco said this as he backed away from Hermione and went to sit on a bench across the room. Hermione's eyes watched his every move, but she did lower her wand a bit, relaxing the tiniest fraction. She was just about to open her mouth to respond when he added, "Don't ask me what I mean because I have no intention of explaining my plans to a flibbertigibbet like you."

Hermione's mouth dropped completely open, her wand no longer a concern, as she stormed towards Draco. "Excuse me? What did you just call me?" Red spots had formed on Hermione's heated cheeks as she got right in the Pureblood's face.

Leaning back against the wall, Draco merely laughed. "Why would I tell my secrets to you, Granger, when I know you'll just run and tell Golden Boy Potter?"

Crossing her arms across her heaving chest, Hermione puffed herself up. "I know how to keep a secret, Malfoy! I keep plenty of secrets—I don't have to run and tell Harry every little thing I hear." It was true, she hadn't told Harry about Ginny being in love with him or about the fact that Ginny wanted to lose her virginity to Dean Thomas before Halloween. She was most definitely not a flibbertigibbet. How dare Malfoy call her such a name?

"Could have fooled me; what with the constant talking you do in all our classes." Instead of looking at her, Draco plucked an invisible piece of lint from his pristine, Slytherin robes. Thunder sounded outside and they both looked to the roof as the rain cascaded down harder than before. "I suppose we're stuck here for a while."

Hermione blinked a few times before plopping down on the bench next to Draco. "I'm not that bad, am I? I thought I was better at not being such a know-it-all these past few years." Draco gave her a sideways glance and an undignified snort.

"Come on, Granger, we both know you'll always be a know-it-all."

Hermione sighed and hung her head forward, her bushy hair hiding her face from Draco completely. "I don't feel like such a know-it-all lately, especially in Potions. It's just not like me…" Surprising the both of them, Draco leaned over and pushed the hair away from her face so he could see her more clearly.

Hermione's brown eyes stared widely into the shocked, icy eyes of Draco. "Come on, Granger. Just because Potter brewed a few potions better than you, doesn't mean you're losing your touch—no matter how funny it would be to see you not get an O for once." He finished with a smirk.

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Hermione tried to formulate a coherent thought. The fact of the matter was, she had never been this close to Draco Malfoy before, and while he was still slightly insulting her, he was also managing to be somewhat, dare she think it, nice? Afraid to ruin the moment, Hermione decided to find out what he was up to. "Why are you hiding out here in the Quidditch changing rooms anyway, Malfoy?"

Sensing that she was trying to let the awkward moment pass, Draco decided to give her an honest answer for once. "I was trying to get away from the cacophony of Hogwarts. I needed a quiet place to think and clear my head."

"Why didn't you try the Room of Requirement?" Hermione suggested but was surprised when he threw her a dark look.

"No! No, I needed a place I thought no one would find me for a while." He ran a hand through his hair again which made Hermione wonder when he had stopped slicking it back with so much product. This new Draco Malfoy was something to be studied. If only she had more information about what he was up to—Harry had suspected him to be on some sort of Death Eater mission since they returned to Hogwarts, after all.

"No one would ever expect me to willingly come into a Quidditch pitch." Hermione said, trying to joke with him, but he was staring off to the side deep in thought. Sitting up straighter, Hermione rubbed at the sore spot on her head from hitting it on the bench. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I have a concussion."

He turned and flashed a brilliant, real smile towards her, startling them both. "It does." This caused Hermione to laugh and Draco cleared his throat. "Can I ask what you were looking for?"

With a sigh, Hermione tossed her hands into the air before standing and glancing around. "My Potions essay, of all things. I've lost it, but I know for certain I had it earlier when I came to watch the Gryffindor's practice."

"I can help you look, if you want?" Draco asked tentatively, as he also stood from the bench. He peered around the changing room, avoiding Hermione's questioning stare. Hermione was so taken aback by his offer of help that she was rendered speechless once again. Upon realizing Hermione was doing nothing but staring at him, Draco turned and glared at the bushy haired girl. "Look, I offered to help you find your essay—not become best mates, so stop staring at me like that." He gestured at her gaping mouth and Hermione abruptly shut it—again.

"Sorry," she muttered as she turned to resume her search. "I'm just not used to this side of you. I'm a bit confused, to be honest." She pulled her hair back as if to put it in a sloppy bun, but stopped when Draco gently touched her arm. "What now," she asked, still holding her hair back behind her head.

A look Hermione couldn't decipher flashed across Draco's face before he became a blank slate once more. "I just think you should leave your hair down."

Immediately, her hands dropped allowing her hair to bounce around her shoulders wildly. "Why?"

Draco shrugged before looking inside the waste bin. "It looks better down."

"Malfoy, you are constantly making fun of my 'bushy mane'. How am I to believe you, of all people, actually prefer my hair better down?" Her glare was back on her face as her hands landed on her hips. She absolutely couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Draco Malfoy, her tormentor for five, going on six, years was being nice to her! It was unimaginable! No one would believe her even if she used a Pensieve to extract her thoughts. Suddenly, she gasped and rushed forward to grab his arm. "You haven't been put under the Imperius curse, have you?" She grappled for her tucked away wand inside her school robes. "Here, let me use Finite on you!"

With a laugh, Draco gently shoved her arm away. Her touch made him feel things he would rather not explore at the moment. "Don't be daft, Granger. I'm a skilled Occlumens. No one is getting me under their control, unless I allow it." He folded his arms so Granger wouldn't feel inclined to touch him again. She still held that wand in her hand, so he raised his pale eyebrows in a silent demand for her to put it away.

"Well, alright, but I would still feel better if you let me—''

"Absolutely not. I thought we had an agreement to not use magic on one another while we're stuck here."

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione pocketed her wand. "Fine—but can you at least explain to me why you're being so, so nice?"

Suddenly, Draco appeared a bit uncertain and shy. He turned away and looked distractedly at the wall. The pounding from the rain began to diminish as the minutes ticked by. Finally, as if sensing their time together was coming to an end, Draco turned and faced Hermione again. "I am going to tell you something, Granger, and I expect you to listen very carefully.

Tilting her head, she gave the Slytherin a calculating stare. "Alright," she agreed crossing her arms across her chest. "You have my attention, Malfoy."

With a few long strides, Draco found himself mere inches from Gryffindor's Golden Girl. She smelled of vanilla, almonds, and a faint hint of summer rain. It was intoxicating, if not completely distracting. He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them to stare into Hermione's questioning brown orbs. "Bad things are going to happen this year, Granger—things you can't even imagine. I warned you once before—at the Quidditch World Cup—do you remember?" When she nodded, he carried on, watching as a hint of fear began to show on her round face. "This is me warning you again. Be careful—more careful than ever before. I can't—won't—be able to protect you, understood?"

"I understand, Draco." She whispered against his lips, for he had moved so close there was mere breath separating them. His eyes swept hungrily over her face and plump, pink lips as his hands came up to grip her shoulders. Hermione made a noise, but before she could protest, his mouth had come crashing down on hers. She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat as her eyes widened for a split second before fluttering shut. She let herself relax into the kiss. It was so unexpectedly forbidden that her hands came up to grip eagerly at the back of Draco's neck, urging him deeper. Her mouth parted in a gasp of pleasure as she realized she could feel every delicious inch of him pressed against her body, and Draco took full advantage then, his tongue sliding in to mingle with hers.

It's uncertain how long the kiss would have gone on or where it would have lead, because just then a voice broke through the haze that had descended upon the pair, echoing in from just outside the Quidditch changing room.

"Hermione! Hermione are you in there?"

Draco and Hermione sprung apart, both breathless, their lips swollen and cheeks flushed. "Harry," Hermione whispered her friend's name quietly as Draco continued to stare into her eyes. "The rain's stopped."

Draco merely nodded before straightening his robes. "Remember my warning, Granger."

She opened her mouth to respond—to say she could help him, save him, but before the thought had fully formulated, Harry came bursting into the changing room. Hermione whirled around, her robes flowing around her body.

"There you are, Hermione! I've been searching for you. Did you find your essay?" Harry was smiling at her, hair damp from the rain as if he had been looking for her in the storm. He shook his head, causing a bit of rain to splash her and making her giggle.

"Actually…" she trailed off, turning back around only to find the room quite empty. Draco must have slipped out a back door. Just as she was about to turn back towards Harry, her eyes caught on something sitting on a bench. It was her essay! She grabbed the scroll of parchment, a smile coming to rest upon her flushed face. Draco had her Potions essay the entire time! Facing Harry once more, essay in hand, she grinned at her long-time friend "I must have left it sitting here earlier. How silly of me."

Harry shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and reached for her hand. "Well, the good thing is you found it. Come on, it's almost dinner time!" He pulled her out the door and they started racing up the stone steps back towards the castle, their shoes squelching in the wet dirt and grass and their school robes flapping in the breeze. Hermione couldn't help but turn back to look over her shoulder for Draco, though. There was no sign of him, but she would forever remember his warning, and that kiss.