Not Yet (A Hermione Granger fanfic)

Chapter 9

A/N: I can't express how humbled I am that with all the other things begging for your attention, you're choosing to read my story. :)

Warning: this chapter contains a scene of harming an animal (namely-a dragon!). Nothing too terrible, promise. I'm too much of a softy when it comes to animals, dragons or no.

Happy Reading!

***********Chapter NINE***********

There's something about seeing a dragon print in the mud, out in the middle of a forest, that sends shivers down Hermione's spine. Orev could lay down inside it and still not reach from heel to claw. Right now, crouching beside it, he's dwarfed by the massive print. It's filled with water.

"I think it's fresh," he says. "See how it's not covered by any leaves?"

"And it just rained here," she adds, looking at the dripping leaves around them, "so it would have only made such a deep impression after the rain softened the ground."

Hermione had thought it would be awkward, letting him Apparate with her to the edge of the preserve. Orev had grabbed her arm tightly, his grip strong. Then she'd turned on her heel, dragging him along. A bit of stumbling ensued when they landed—he'd held on a fraction longer than she'd expected, and Hermione had almost fallen over. Orev caught her, his mouth threatening her with that smirk she was finding more irritating every time he did it. Overall, though, the experience hadn't been terrible.

"Hello? Wren?" He's trying to get her attention.

"Sorry—what?"

Orev shakes his head at her lapse in attention. "I said, do you have experience tracking?"

"Not really. It's just common sense, though, right?" Unless you count tracking Professor Quirrell-Voldemort through the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts in my first year.

"Hmmm," was all he says. "Be on your guard. It's close."

Hermione nods, the thrill of finding a dragon so quickly turning into a panic from finding the dragon so quickly. She hasn't mentally prepared herself for it yet. "What are we going to do when we find it?"

"I liked the idea of bait—"

"So you said, but I'm not—"

"So I was thinking about doing it."

"Wait—what?" Not for the first time, Hermione is starting to believe her new acquaintance is slightly unhinged.

"I'll be the bait, dangle myself in front of its nose, so to speak. You get the scale."

"And what if it notices me trying to hex a scale off its body?"

"I'll make a lot of noise and draw away its attention."

Hermione snorts. Even Harry and Ron's plans had more substance than this.

"Do you have a better idea?" she asks.

"Disillusion ourselves so it can't see us. Then we sneak up on it and hit it with the same spell at the same time, increasing our chances of it actually working."

"It will still smell us."

"But if it can't see us, we'll have more time. Otherwise one of us will end up as its snack."

"A tasty snack, I bet," he murmurs, glancing at her.

Hermione flushes at his little aside, but decides to ignore him.

"You look better with some color," he says, then suddenly looks chagrined, like he hadn't meant to say it aloud.

At this, Hermione's face warms even more. To hide it, she pretends to dig through her beaded purse. She tells herself she's blushing because she's just not used to interacting with people. That the long months alone have taken their toll on her.