(Hermione and Draco take on the zombie apocalypse) It's been five years since Harry, Hermione and Ron left Hogwarts.
Hermione, now twenty-two and engaged to Ron, prides herself in her intelligence. All her life, Hermione has always needed to kno...
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Draco Malfoy stood there, his jaw slightly slackened as he stared back at Hermione, her weapon of choice these days in her hand: a chair. She dropped it, that blood from the muggle now splattered across her cloak, some even on her face. Disgusted she wiped it away and looked back to Malfoy. He was silent, his eyes wide, behind him, Pansy Parkinson was keening like a beached whale, the sound reverberating throughout the room. Hermione looked warily to the still open door to the Leaky Cauldron. The waitress and the cook were nowhere in sight.
"Hav-Have you not seen this before?" Clearly what she had seen wasn't an isolated event.
Slowly, Malfoy rose his head to look her again in the face, shaking his head. "How did you know how to kill it, Granger?"
She dropped her eyes, turning again to stare at the door, its openness to her back making her feel exposed and on edge. Her eyes drifted over Theodore Nott's body, his neck nearly ripped out and a bloody mess on the floor. That must have been when Pansy's screaming had started.
Her hopes that what she had experienced had been an isolated event dwindled. She had seen a muggle film similar to this but had imagined it to be an act of fiction. But, it seemed that like magic, wizardry, and her receiving her Hogwarts letter and being a witch, these kinds of things were not made up either.
"I guessed."
His pale eyes focused on her, the light grey color having always unnerved her. She still was not entirely convinced he did not carry Veela blood through the Malfoy line. Though it was odd to see male Veela's -- the only thing holding her back from her conclusion. She had never fully researched it as she had intended.
His eyebrows furrowed.
"You mean, you didn't know?" he seemed surprised, the idea of Hermione having to guess something rather than go in knowing the result seeming to bring him back to reality due to its absurdity.
"I-I tried the things you did first, wh-when R-One of them attacked me before."
Malfoy was looking at her suspiciously, not missing how she had almost said Ron. He started to reply when a noise at the door made Hermione jump, her chair still in hand, ready to fight off another one of the monsters.
Instead, all she saw was a wide-eyed Blaise Zabini. Time had treated the always handsome Slytherin well, his dark features the opposite to Malfoy's as his looked down at his comrade on the floor where he lay half eaten. Next, his eyes followed the drops of blood over to Hermione's feet, his hazel colored eyes rising to where Hermione stood, then to where his two friends still were standing frozen in front of her.
He, of course, jumped to the worse conclusion first.
Raising his wand at her. "You've really gone bloody mental, Granger." He held his wand steady with the trained skill of an Auror, the young wizard having competed with Harry and Ron in the Auror department since they graduated Hogwarts. She hadn't seen him in years, but she had heard Ron's complaints of the old school rival.
