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Mirrored Desires	By : kstargal Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7194 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with JK Rowling or the Harry Potter world and make no money from this - only the ridiculous story-line is mine!

Chapter List
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Hermione slowly came into consciousness. The first thing she felt was a pounding in her temple, followed closely by a constriction around her chest. Panicking slightly, Hermione scrambled for a deep breath as the memory of smoke wrapping around her body infiltrated her memory. Within a second she deduced the tightness around her wasn’t the ghostly tendrils, this felt a little different, warmer for starters. Looking down, she saw two strong arms wrapped around her firmly; pale hair covered them in a soft down, and a Tag Heuer watch told her it was 2 o’clock. Looking up to the canopy of trees (trees?) the brightness indicated it was afternoon. What the hell was happening, and why was she on a forest floor, groggy and being embraced? And why didn’t she really care for the moment as she snuggled back a little?

She knew the smoke pulled her into the mirror – which she also knew was a Port-Key. Obviously the Port mechanism somehow tripped and pulled her into an early transportation. It didn’t explain where she was, and who was wrapped around her. Hermione was completely alone in her bedroom the night before…well…almost.

Images of Malfoy above her, kissing, licking - making her moan his name bombarded her senses for a moment. It was all a dream, he wasn’t really there; she knew that emphatically. Yes, a dream was completely explainable; unfortunately the heat between her thighs was not. Her mind would never be so addled that she would willingly invite him to her bed. Hermione ignored the voice which taunted her; telling her it was her body which wanted Malfoy not her brain. She couldn’t believe her physical form could be that stupid either. Malfoy was bad news, no matter how ridiculously sexy she thought he was – hang on ‘he’ thought he was, she amended.

Suddenly it hit Hermione in a moment of clarity – she knew who the phantom hugger was. How could she be so stupid? She’d obviously hit her head at some point – hard.

Hermione jerked upright, smacking the person behind her awake. With a masculine growl, Draco sat up looking as dazed as she felt. She took in a small amount of satisfaction at managing to smack him in the head twice in 24 hours. Jumping to her feet, she immediately crouched down again. Why the heck was she only in her tank top and sleep shorts? And why in Merlin’s name was Malfoy lying on a forest floor in his – gulp – navy blue Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

“Explain now, Malfoy. What the bloody hell did you do?” Hermione’s voice hissed in anger, as she tried to look anywhere but at Malfoy’s chiselled body. Bloody eyes, his chest was like a homing beacon.

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed as he took in their position. “What I did, Granger? You’re the one throwing unlawful spells around yesterday. Take me back now; I was having quite the pleasant dream.”

Hermione’s faced flushed, do not think about that particular dream - not now. It was near on to impossible though, not when he sat less than two metres away, half naked.

“Well, Granger. Do it. I have much more important things to be doing than being a part of your little ploy to get me alone. By the way, I don’t do forests for future references.” He pulled a stick from god knows where and threw it past her. Of all the arrogant men in the world, she had to be here with the self proclaimed king of them.

Huffing with anger she stood up to her full height of five foot eight and glowered down at him, hands on hips. “I did bloody nothing to you, as you well know. ‘Don’t do forests’,” she mimicked. “Hell, if I was going to bring a man to what appears to be a deserted forest, you wouldn’t even make the short list – since you’re not even a man….you’re a…what…what are you looking at? Gods at least pretend to pay attention to me when I’m speaking, you oaf?”

Malfoy wasn’t listening, much to Hermione’s fury; he was just staring – at her. Hermione then realised her dark grey stretchy tank-top left nothing to the imagination as her nipples were clearly poking out, in coldness – nothing more. Although as his eyes darkened beyond belief, she hated to admit it wasn’t just the coldness which made her nipples pebble. She couldn’t help but wonder what he saw.

Hermione knew her dark hair was cascading down her back in a messy tangle of curls and her tight black jockey shorts barely covered her assets; she must look like a scantily clad warrior woman. All she needed was a spear – which she would thrust between Draco’s ribs. Now why did her mind conjure up the words spear and thrust? Stupid imagination, she should have curbed it in kindergarten.

Draco slowly swallowed and Hermione felt a wash of power crawl over her skin. Did he like what he saw? Then she squashed it – he was a male, and she was half naked – of course he did. This once again set off the unexplainable anger within her, and she used every ounce of willpower in her body not to cross her arms in-front of her. Hermione Granger had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of – except maybe her reaction to the lug sitting by her feet.

“Oi, stop ogling what you can’t afford and get me home – we have to be in the office in two hours for a brief. And unlike you – I loathe to be late.” Hermione snapped her fingers in-front of Malfoy’s face impatiently.

He then did something which stole her breath. He grabbed her waggling finger and pulled her down so she had one knee on the mossy ground and their noses where almost touching.

“Granger, I do not – nor will I ever find you in any way, shape or form attractive. You are still the little bookworm, know-it-all who dated a Weasley and pretends to be above her pay-grade. I admit you have an extremely pleasant body – yet your personality negates any form of desire I could possible have for you.” He released her finger violently, and she stumbled back a little, stunned at his rant.

For a second she was left with no thoughts; then she finally registered what he’d said. Hermione hated admitting to the small stab of pain at his words, hang on – she was better than his snide remarks borne from being inbred. Everyone on the planet wanted to feel beautiful, she was no different – and it was of no consequence what Malfoy thought. Plus, no matter what his mouth said, she could tell by his eyes he found her somewhat appealing. “Well, Malfoy, for the first time since I’ve known you – I completely agree with what you said – you’ve summed up my feelings for you in a nut-shell.”

A look of what she could only describe as surprise flew across his face. “Don’t fib, Granger – everybody finds me attractive, you’re lying.”

Hermione laughed loudly and genuinely, even more so as his eyes narrowed. “Oh, you’re priceless and so full of yourself. To be honest, I like dark hair and tanned skin – not white and blonde. Sorry to burst your arrogant bubble.”

Malfoy looked down at his chest, and spoke with conviction. “I am not white.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his forlorn look; he really did think he was god’s gift. She just had to hide the fact she truly thought he was appealing. Unfortunately she did find pale skin and almost white blonde hair scrumptious, just more so without the added arrogance which came from being born to the right bloodline. “You are white compared to Christos, actually you borderline on a little pasty.”

Malfoy grabbed her hand again and she gasped at his extreme grip. Crap – she’d pissed him off, one day the goading would cease - or not. “Who the hell is Christos?”

His eyes didn’t waver from hers; steely in their regard. Hermione couldn’t help but push him. “Jealous are we?”

He dropped her hand. “In our line of work – you have to be more than careful of whom you date. You can’t just be with anybody, Granger. Did you get him checked out, background, jobs, wives - anything?”

“At what point, did I say I was dating him, last time I checked one night does not make a relationship.” Hermione once again felt satisfaction at the look on his face. Let him think what he wanted. Christos was a character out of the latest paranormal romance she was reading – he was a Werewolf with considerable muscle and sex appeal. A girl could dream.

“I don’t want to hear about your sordid sex-life with common people – I bet he’s even a Muggle. You seem to go for the runty humans with no sense of self.”

The slap resounded in the grove of trees they stood in. Hermione didn’t even realise she’d struck out until a pink imprint formed on Draco’s cheek. Her mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise. Never had she slapped a fellow agent from her division – never had a reason to. Even now she couldn’t form in her mind why she actually hit Malfoy.

“You stupid bint.” He ground out in fury.

Oh, that’s why. He grabbed her hand before she actually managed contact this time. He twisted her wrist until she felt like crying out in pain – but there was no way she would make a sound. Malfoy would get way too much enjoyment from it. He pulled forward, bending her arm and Hermione ended up almost nose to nose with him again, his arm holding hers tightly against her own back - trapped. He was too strong – damn muscled men.

They sat like that for a moment – at a stalemate. Hermione was furious to realise his eyes still had gold flecks through them, it wasn’t her imagination. Sun hit his hair making it halo around his head in a white gold haze and instead of hatred burning in his eyes, there was almost a mute surprise. Hermione frowned slightly at the look; then she knew what was going on. Bloody, Merlin.

It looked like he was trying to figure out whether to kiss her or not. Hermione’s immediate reaction was to pull away in disgust – then why did she stay deathly still, hardly breathing in-case she ruined the moment?

As his head bent slowly towards her, a loud crack sounded in the clearing. Pushing her roughly away with a litany of choice swear words, some which she believed he’d made up, he stood. Hermione had no choice but to slowly stand up beside him. They ended up back to back ready to attack if need be. Hermione could feel the heat of Malfoy against her and she tried desperately to think of anything other than how delicious he would look in all his 6 foot 3 glory wearing only jockey shorts.

She stumbled as they both circled around slowly, trying to see the cause for the noise. Malfoy immediately placed his arm around Hermione steadying her, she ignored the immense amount of heat he was giving off – she also ignored how close his hand was to her underwear line. She threw his arm off of her.

“I can look after myself.” Hermione hissed as she tripped again, smacking into his back hard; stupid forest and tree roots. It took all her willpower not to turn around and punch him in the kidney when he laughed at her.

“Over there.” Draco slunk off towards a thick trunked tree, where two large black bags were now sitting as if they had always belonged there. Hermione huffed, what the hell was Louis up to? They were Ministry grade backpacks – used for covert missions. Hermione knew she was not going to like what they found in them at all.

Before they managed to pick up the bags, a different noise broke their stride. Hermione likened it to a jumbo jet slowly idling past their grove. Draco looked carefully around the corner of the tree and motioned for her; Hermione snuck up, peering around the other side. There were vehicles, – lots of them and they were heavily armed too, it almost looked like whomever owned these particular trucks were planning on a war. One of the vans slowed down considerably – were they seen? Hermione jumped back, her shoulder coming into contact with Draco’s as he too pulled away from sight. They looked at each other, brows furrowed.

“Who are they?” Hermione mouthed. Draco shrugged in response; then spun back around to look out again. Hermione gazed for a second at the long line of his muscled back. Two small dimples showed just above his jock line – she averted her gaze as heat started to envelope her. It was extremely personal and Hermione felt she had no right to be taking in Draco’s lithe body. She took a deep breath and peered out again.

The van had carried on – followed by a long procession of what she could only guess were twenty vehicles. For some reason she knew not to alert them to their presence, a sixth sense was telling her they were not in Kansas anymore.

When all was clear, Hermione turned back to Draco who was deep in thought.

“What’s going on? Did you or did you not do something for us to end up here, and where the hell is here anyway?” Hermione demanded.

Draco glared down at her; then he frowned. “Contrary to belief, Granger, I have much more important things to be doing than to spell your arse here for my own amusement. I would say it’s obvious – the two bags over there are the reason we are here. Or do you have another hypothesis Watson?”

Hermione scowled up at him. He was right, of course he freaking was. If fate knew she could look like a dunce in-front of Malfoy it would throw her right out there to fend for herself. She was still trying to think of some Sherlock related witty comeback when Draco spoke again.

“Not receiving a brief is unheard of.” Looking Hermione up and down in not a very kind manner he snorted. “Neither is pairing me up with an incompetent witch. Manfred said nothing to you did he?”

Four, five, six…Hermione counted in her head slowly. If she didn’t calm her racing furious heartbeat it would explode inside of her; and no satisfaction would come of that – unless by some miracle it sent a chain reaction off and his brain melted in response. She knew she was being whimsical now.

“Well, did he?” Draco demanded with irritation.

“I’m thinking, you impatient brat.” Hermione ignored his small half smile at her tone; along with the quickening of her heartbeat. Arsehat.

Hermione thought back to her conversation with Manfred – something he said stuck with her, something about being in a strange land, brains and hearts….no, there was no way on god’s green earth he would do something stupid, would he? This was obviously a Ministry driven operation; Manfred wouldn’t, no he couldn’t leave out important information they required all because he thought she needed a lover. Hermione held back a small groan. Of course he would. She would kill him – no, actually she would skin him, then stomp on him then kill him. This gave leave to the burning question in Hermione’s mind - did she tell Draco about Manfred’s obsession with her love-life? No, no freaking way. So Hermione lied.

“Manfred said nothing of import…”

Draco nodded absently not really listening thank Merlin. He looked around the small clearing with a critical eye; and his gaze rested on the bags again. “It looks like Louis wants us here for a reason, though.”

As Hermione watched, Draco continued to stare at the bags, noticing a fine sheen of sweat line his upper lip. After a moment he exhaled loudly and wiped his brow.

“Granger?” His voice was full of question.

Hermione stared at him like he was crazy or constipated. “What are you doing?”

He huffed and glared at her, once again making her feel like she was completely inept and should know exactly what he was doing and when. “Have you tried using magic?”

She realised she hadn’t and it clicked into place what he was doing. They obviously had no wands with them since they were in their sleepwear – so he was trying to use wand-less magic. She spun around, her eyes resting on the bags – it should be simple enough; move them towards her. Concentrating hard, Hermione let the magic course through her body and felt – nothing. Panic welled and she tried again – absolutely nothing, she was empty; void of any magic. She spun, panic evident in her face.

“It’s okay, I don’t have anything either.” She felt instantly better at his admission. Draco walked over, snatched the bags and sat down heavily on a log. Hermione was chagrined to notice his chiselled abs stayed perfectly in symmetry – no small stomach at all – she sat across from him and breathed in.

He threw one of the bags to her – hard enough to make her fall back a little. Hermione curled her lip at him as he smirked, and she felt a shard of only what she could pinpoint as loathing for the man sitting across from her – it was nothing more, nothing less. She disliked him with an intensity which surprised her, surely it didn’t all stem from back at Hogwarts. Draco had proven himself loyal to the Ministry time and time again; maybe that was it. He’d proven himself to the Ministry – but never to her.

She looked over at him sprawled across the fallen log like a model waiting for his close up. Except he wasn’t posing – it was his natural way. He was damn good looking and had grown into his body extremely well. There was an air of confidence about him which Hermione found unbearably attractive, men completely sure of themselves and their sexuality was kind of a vice to Hermione. She scowled down at the ground.

Trying to stop her wandering eyes was proving futile so she opened the bag at her feet, hoping it held a clue to why they were here. Clothing, rations, weapons and a co-ordinate cuff containing one map fell from her backpack. No other clues though. She frowned down at the contents – it was all her size and included the weapons she favoured – a small sabre she could sheath to her back, throwing knives and a small assortment of spell bombs – but no wand. She swore under her breath, why the hell did they leave that out? The map on the cuff was detailed and showed a large compound of some sort. It contained hardly any writing; and what it did was in another language – Cyrillic’s actually, of which she knew nothing but the basics. There was no mission brief she could see. Looking over at Draco she saw him flicking through a small book.

“Well, Granger – welcome to my worst nightmare.” He ran a hand through his hair angrily, Hermione watched as it fell straight back into perfection. She hated him more now than ever because his hair was so…so….arrrgh what was she doing?

“What – they forgot to pack the big boy’s alphabet spaghetti? Tragedy.” Hermione ducked as he threw the book at her, and was glad he finally showed he was annoyed at her. It was hard work.

“Laugh it up – you won’t be when you read that.” She could hear Draco muttering under his breath. Hermione glanced over at him before she started to read; he was deep in thought; his furrowed brow was not attractive. How could her mind and body be so at war? She refused to believe Malfoy could turn her on; though her body was certain he could - sure it had been awhile between men. Okay, she didn’t want to really think about how long – when did the Great Wall of China get built? Glancing at his chest once more, she knew they needed to get dressed and bloody soon before her mind decided to make a permanent home in the gutter.

Thankfully Draco pulled out a pair of black special forces trousers; and started to yank them on. They were specifically designed for wear and tear. They kept the heat in and the cold out, were made of fabric so thick and tough it was almost impossible to rip them. Hermione knew that first hand – she’d come off her motorbike wearing them – sliding at almost 50km an hour; there wasn’t even a thread out of place when she stood up. The only problem with them – yep; Draco stood up pulling them over his lean hips – they hugged the figure like a second skin. Gulping, Hermione angrily looked down at the book in her hands. Get a grip, Granger – you silly trollop.

The brief was short and to the point – very much like Louis the man himself. It outlined the mission was last minute – hence no warning about the port-mechanism sucking them from their beds. Louis wasn’t even sure they would get their ration packs; since they now sat in the middle of a magic fluctuation zone. Hermione groaned.

“Oh it gets better – read on.” Draco was tightening his belt and Hermione looked down again so quickly she felt her neck twinge.

He was right. They had to infiltrate a known anti-magic terrorist compound in a magical dead zone, full of trained men to steal from them a very important package; of which there was no specific mention of what it was. She’d heard of this group before – but hadn’t realised they had gained enough members to make a stand. WAM – or Wizards Against Magic, were full of men and women who rebelled against the very magic they possessed. They lived their lives out using no magic and pretending to be Muggles. Hermione couldn’t fathom why somebody who possessed magic wouldn’t want to use it, but it seemed most of WAM’s members consisted of Squibs and weaker magicians whose bloodlines weren’t strong.

“What the hell…?” Hermione trailed off, while trying to figure out exactly what they were supposed to do. “So they sent just the two of us to break into a compound full of non-magic using soldiers so we could steal an unknown package. How the frig are we supposed to know what we are stealing? Plus, they may contain no magic but I’m sure they are far from hopeless. This is stupid, ludicrous – what the hell is Louis thinking – sending us in, unprepared, undermanned and…”

“Perfect for the job. Well I am – I can hardly see why he got me to pair up with you, but Louis must have his reasons. It looks like the road train of armoured tanks before would have something to do with our mission – good thing one of us has the brains to work that out.” He pointedly looked her up and down, making it obvious who he thought that was before continuing to rummage around in his bag.

Hermione felt her eyes narrow, and she clenched her fists until she felt the bite of her nails. The pain made her think clearer. Yes, she was one of the best operatives for the job, but she liked plans, meetings; hell, she liked all the facts – in this case, she was getting none. The only thing she knew; is her and Malfoy had to do this together. She wasn’t sure if she was professional enough to handle it. Would she get in trouble for killing someone in self defence from her own team – when they were sleeping?

She watched as Malfoy pulled a wicked looking gun from his bag, along with a large hunting knife he strapped to his thigh. Hermione suddenly realised she was still in her underclothes. Feeling a red creep up on her cheeks she quickly pulled her pants on.

“Don’t worry, Granger – I wasn’t looking, I had no reason to want to, really.” Draco’s tone was caustic and it made her lip curl in an ugly grimace. This was going to be worse than anything she’d ever had to do, including cleaning mould off the bathroom tiles with an old toothbrush. It would be like battling the nine different levels of hell whilst having to make nice with the devil on the way.

Looking away angrily, she gazed above her at the canopy of trees as she buttoned her trousers up; a little awed at how tall they were. Then an idea hit. Hermione headed over to the largest tree in the grove; staring up into the green depths above her for a moment. It took a few seconds, but Hermione finally found a foot hold, and began to scramble up the thick base of the tree. Before she got too far, Draco grabbed her ankle tightly. She looked down in fury.

“What the hell are you playing at? Trying to kill yourself in the first five minutes, you daft witch, that tree is too big.” His expression was closed and angry.

“I’m touched by your concern, really. Didn’t realised you cared so much.” He scowled up at her words and she gave an evil smirk. “So, my dear partner - let go. Now!” Her anger was at boiling point and she was ready to do something stupid, Hermione was still pissed that she could find such a loathsome creature attractive. The whole situation was making her usual analytical and no-nonsense mind muddled and unclear. She kicked her foot out and it connected with his shoulder – he yelled out and let go. Hermione began to climb in earnest.

It took about fifteen minutes of careful foot placement and concentration to reach the top, but she eventually got there. She could hear Draco’s shouts chasing her up the tree. He was far from happy and the swear words and names he’d called up to her as she climbed should never be repeated in polite society. Good thing they hated each other already or else she’d be offended.

Survival training had kicked in from Muggle studies - when lost in a forest, climb the highest tree to map a route to follow. Hermione stared out around her in each direction, seeing nothing more than forest. After squinting into the sun she made another sweeping gaze along the horizon; still seeing nothing. She tried staring at the track the armoured vehicles had taken, but saw no sign. Disheartened she sighed and started to climb down, but a sudden glare made her stop. She scrambled up again and stared at the spot. Yes – she could just make out something shining like a reflection from a window. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but she knew it was a truck. The good thing; Hermione and Draco could cut a lot of time off by travelling through the forest not taking the ramshackle road around. But, did she really want to risk it – who knew what predators were around.

“No bigger than the one standing at the bottom of the tree.” Hermione grumbled, knowing Draco would agree with her and cut through the trees and undergrowth. They just had to be careful. Hermione began to climb down, cursing Louis for putting her in this position with each lowering step.

Draco rubbed his shoulder in annoyance, bloody cow had kicked him a good one. He scowled up the tree at Granger’s disappearing arse and tried not to let his imagination wander for even a second – it was not a pert arse nor was their anything vaguely attractive about the shape and contours either. He scowled again when he realised he was still staring at the most unattractive feature on Granger.

It was the dream – of course it was. Erotic dreams were his forte, he enjoyed them and to be honest he had them frequently; being the virile male he was. What he didn’t expect was the most annoying witch on the planet to infiltrate one of the hottest dreams he’d had in years. He felt a stirring in his Calvin’s and realised he’d best think of something horrific to curb his growing ‘enthusiasm’. His thoughts immediately went to Hermione plastered all over his body yesterday on Manfred’s shop floor. No, that wouldn’t do at all, he shifted positions slightly and adjusted himself, unhappy that Granger could illicit any response other than disgust.

Thinking of the smoke pulling him into the mirror – that should clear his mind of unwanted attractions – no, not attraction, distraction – hell, bloody Granger. He wiped his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes and mentally shaking himself to get back on track. This is exactly why he never wanted to work with her – he let the stray thought disappear without analysing it.

Where was he? That’s right, the smoke. He was man enough to admit it unnerved him slightly – he may have even let out a masculine grunt…okay scream; as it pulled him into its inky depths. Now he knew COT was behind it, he felt better. But he would always remember that one moment of blind panic – the feeling was something he could use to ground himself in times of need. And it seemed right now he needed it more than ever.

Suddenly the most annoying Witch he knew - besides Pansy; was back in-front of him – eyes bright and looking like she was ready to fight the world. He’d never seen her look so…alive. He found his ‘enthusiasm’ take note. Growling, he grabbed her arm, which she shook off immediately. He had to wonder why he touched her in the first place.

”Don’t man-handle me, Malfoy – or in your case prat-handle. There was a reflection west of here – I think it was a truck which hopefully will lead us to the compound, or if not – it’s a start. We won’t make it the whole way today – we’ll have to camp, but we should make it there tomorrow. The map Louis gave me only shows the compound itself, not the surrounding area. They must have been in a mad panic to leave us with so little to go on.” Draco watched her face as she frowned in thought; the small expression making her look…he glanced away quickly. He swallowed, not entirely sure what he almost thought; but knowing he didn’t want to think anything about this irritating woman. “Why do you think we were thrown here with no warning, no briefing and with a small notebook with hardly enough information in it to be useful?”

“Obviously it’s to piss me off to no end – Granger, stay out of my way or I may just have to hurt you.” He felt satisfaction rise in his chest as her eyes narrowed once more at him. Why he enjoyed baiting her – he had no idea. It was amusing; he always got the better of her. Then she flipped him the bird and stalked off, tripping as she went. He laughed out loud and found a large rock sailing through the air narrowly missing his temple.

“You missed.” He laughed harder – until another rock slammed into his chest. “Granger.” He roared as he ran after her, murder intent in his mind, not the lilting sound of her laughter.

They hardly spoke a word to each other the whole time they traipsed through the forest. Hermione was glad though, it gave her time to cool off and focus on something other than how much Draco had managed to annoy her, once again. He was beyond maddening and it was making her agitated and she hoped her performance wouldn’t suffer – they would eventually have to trust the other – she didn’t know if she was big enough to try.

“Branch.” Draco deadpanned.

Hermione ducked as the tree branch he was holding swung back towards her. At least he was warning her now – a few hours ago he was letting every tree frond hit her. Luckily for her they hit a small fluctuation where magic worked and she managed to disarm him and hold him against a tree for a few seconds while yelling what a prick he was. Since then he’d not really spoken, except to be amiable with the shrubbery.

She glanced down at her cuff. She’d attached it soon after they started to walk. It was a small mini computer on her arm – telling her things like body temperature, sea levels and terrain, infra-red heat signatures in the vicinity and was usually hooked up to the Ministry – although so far it hadn’t connected at all. She hoped the magic fluctuations hadn’t burnt out its processor. Although the compass was still working – she hoped.

Malfoy had a similar gadget of his own – though it had slightly different functions. He hadn’t told her if his was working or not – and she wouldn’t ask; stubbornness was one of the only things she could control at the moment. Petty, yes, but couldn’t be helped – her hands were tied.

The Ministry had decided soon after the war – Muggle electronics could help the Wizarding world in numerous ways. In the last seven years they had adapted countless gadgets to work in conjunction with magic. It was fantastic when in a situation where magic could not be used – or if you somehow became separated from your wand. Wand-less magic was fine in a pinch – though limited to a few weaker spells. Wands gave strength and accuracy.

Hermione growled slightly – her wand was right on her bedside table, it would never have been left behind if Louis had just told them what was going on. The small book he’d left indicated the mission was completely last minute – so much so, even he couldn’t give them as much information as he wanted to; because he didn’t have it. He’d even hand-written the small brief, not having the time to get a cuff up and running properly – they had a map - nothing else. Obviously Louis was hoping their cuffs would work eventually so they could send information as they themselves got it, problem being – only the basic functions were operating.

The window of opportunity to transport them both into the country was limited – hence the middle of the night transport. Hermione still didn’t understand how Louis had managed to do that with their Port-keys. Although she was betting a years wage Manfred was supposed to tell them what the mirrors were capable of. She would enjoy hurting him when she returned to England. Swiping a large flying bug away – Hermione wondered where they were again. It was too hot for England, somewhere in Eastern Europe maybe? Wherever it was – it was hot and very forresty.

As darkness fell they found a clearing and silently made camp; working strangely in perfect conjunction. She guessed they had another five hour walk until they hit the small glare she’d seen. Draco was aggressively snapping wood he’d found lying around into smaller fire sized pieces. He obviously had a lot of anger to work out as he seemed to enjoy the physical violence. Hermione kept out of his way, too tired for another round of snide remarks and hateful taunts; most of which were from her. Instead she set up their two sleeping bag/tents. They appeared like normal sleeping bags – except super thin and made for temperatures up to -15 degrees Celsius. They also had a small attachment of mesh which sat up over your face to keep the nasties from slithering in with you. Hermione had checked for predator tracks and found none – so sleeping in the trees could wait until they absolutely needed to.

They also ate their rations in complete silence once Draco had the fire going. Each time they caught the other one’s eyes by accident, they would look away with a scowl. Hermione still didn’t know why Draco and her had been paired up. COT always sent out one person to deal with a threat, never two – well, that she knew of. What was so important to the Ministry they would send two operatives out – and two who were famously known for hating each other? It didn’t make sense.

“Sleep while you can, Granger; you look terrible. I can only imagine the horror of waking up to your puffy and hideous face in the morning.” With that he rolled over and zipped up his bag.

Hermione breathed in and out of her nose about thirty times before she moved – knowing if she let her instincts take over; she’d throw herself at Draco and rip his eyebrows off. Only because it would hurt the most and he’d be embarrassed to show his face anywhere for months until they grew back. She smiled at the thought, and climbed into her own bag; only after making sure the fire had died down enough it wouldn’t go out of control.

She couldn’t even tell how long after she’d climbed into her sleeping bag she felt the small tug of the zipper being undone. Instead of panicking, she lay completely still; trying to work out if it was her imagination or not. Then a rather hot, very naked and muscled body slipped in beside her. Before she managed to let out a shriek, she felt a feather light hand trail up her side – a side which was also naked. Letting out a long and slightly shaky breath, she knew she was dreaming again; she was fully clothed when she went to bed. So, Hermione did what any young woman would do – and went with it.

The hand began its exploration in earnest by cupping her arse and squeezing lightly, before continuing its journey up towards her now aching breasts. Hermione let her head loll back against a hard shoulder and tilted her head around. Lips immediately captured hers softly and a small nudge of tongue made her open her mouth readily. Hermione groaned wantonly as a finger and thumb found her nipple and began to tweak. Turning her body all the way around without losing contact she lifted her leg, hooking it over a deliciously strong hip and rocked forward until they were pressed tightly against each other.

A throaty masculine growl caught Hermione’s attention as it seemed quite familiar – opening her eyes; she saw Draco staring back at her. A look of surprise was mirrored on his own face; before he hungrily caught her lips again with a sinful smirk, nipping and teasing. For Merlin’s sake, she really had suffered a large knock to the head recently – that, she was sure of. Why else would she be dreaming of Draco for the second night in a row? If she let the dream continue it would prove to her she really did want him – in her bed at least.

Swearing in the most un-lady like manner, Hermione sat up in her sleeping bag, fighting to unzip the mesh from around her face. She was alone; and fully clothed – but horny as hell. Moaning slightly into her cupped hands which covered her face she stiffened up when she heard a small returning groan from the other side of the fire.

Looking over she saw a rather large tent in Draco’s sleeping bag and damned if her hormones decided right then to accelerate to crazy proportions. Her mouth almost salivated at the sight of Malfoy hard, and obviously asleep form. She let her gaze rest hungrily on his athletic frame, enjoying the peep of muscular legs tight against the bag. She was clinically insane to even be looking – but for some reason her gaze could not be moved; especially when his stiff cock twitched under her watchful eye.

“If you keep staring – I’ll have to charge you for the show.” Draco’s lazy deep voice came from his sleeping bag. Hermione gasped in embarrassment and jumped from her warm bed and walked quickly from the campsite. She managed to stop sprinting at the last moment – she didn’t know what was in the vicinity and fleeing into the unknown was not smart.

Leaning against a cold tree, Hermione tried to calm her racing heart. What the hell was wrong with her – this was ludicrous? She freaking hated Malfoy with a capital loath.

“It was only a dream for Pity’s sake, not real. Not ever…” She shook herself disgusted at the turn her thoughts had taken. Taking her time, Hermione stood and breathed herself back into a semblance of normalcy. Finally, after almost half an hour she made her way back to the camp. Draco had thankfully turned over away from her and she slipped quietly back into the bag. As she drifted off to sleep she swore she heard a small moan from the other side of the fire, and knew she would have to see the nearest shrink when she returned home. Finding Malfoy sexually attractive had to be wiped from her psyche as soon as possible. It was likely to kill her.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!
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Mirrored Desires