Rating: PG-13 for swears and snogs
Summary: Dawn and Draco get caught in the kitchen and sent to detention, which ends with unexpected results.
Disclaimer: Characters? Yeah, not mine. ::forlorn sigh::
A/N: Set in seventh year for the Hogwarts bunch, post season seven for Buffy & co. I apologize for Dawn’s language – Faith has been quite an influence on her.
Dawn grinned at the sandwich that was forming in front of her. This place had so many things that she had never even heard
of, much less put between two pieces of bread. This place was so much cooler than the hotel room Giles had gotten for her, and she was so glad she managed to whine herself into staying in the castle. She giggled. She was staying in a castle!
Of course, she really deserved it after all the work she’d done with helping to find all the Slayers Willow’d activated, but nobody else seemed to think that. Even though she was all with the learning of the magic, and even training with Faith and helping to teach the new Slayers, nobody saw her as anything but ‘Dawnie’, the annoying little add-on. Well, except Faith. Faith was cool. She understood what it was like to be swept under the carpet and forgotten. It had surprised Dawn when the dark Slayer had started talking in a serious tone, because until then she’d been all… well, Faith
about everything. But it turned out that the Rogue and the Key were more alike than anyone had ever thought, and they became really, surprisingly, close. Faith talked
to her about things, instead of abruptly stopping the conversation as soon as Dawn entered a room.
The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her introspection, and she tensed instinctively. She resisted the urge to drop down and hide behind the counter so she could surprise whoever was coming, but decided that was sort of stupid. She was allowed to be here; she didn’t have to hide.
Draco burst into the kitchen, wand drawn, then stopped suddenly when he saw a tall, slim girl standing behind the counter making a sandwich. While she was obviously very aware of his presence, as he could tell by her rigid posture, she didn’t even bother to look at him.
"It’s after hours," he said curtly, expecting her to cower in fear and run off to her little House and cry to all her friends about being caught by the Big Bad Draco. However, she didn’t even acknowledge him; she just kept fixing her bloody sandwich and pretending he wasn’t even there.
"What are you doing here?" Draco demanded, very irritated that this girl wasn’t even intimidated by him. Surely she must know
who he is?
To his surprise, she turned up her nose at him and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "None of your business," she told him. She grabbed a reddish purple jar from the fridge and started putting its contents on her sandwich, ignoring him.
"None of my…" Draco sputtered. Managing to recover his composure quickly, he turned up his nose at her
. "I am a Prefect," he said haughtily, "and I can take away so many Points that you won’t ever be able to show your face in your House again."
"Ooh, scary," she mocked, not looking at him and causing his jaw to drop, "considering I don’t know what the hell a House Point is, nor do I give a shit if you take any away from me."
"You don’t… you don’t know what House Points are?" he asked. She shook her head at him and he leaned against the counter for support. Maybe she’s delusional
, he thought. Maybe someone slipped Forgetfulness Potion into her Pumpkin Juice at dinner.
With surprising gentleness, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Do you know who you are?"
Dawn flinched at his touch and backed away quickly, pointing the knife at him. The fact that the reddish purple spread was dripping from it onto the floor didn’t make her any less dangerous; Draco caught the intense look in her eyes and took a step back. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
"Don’t touch me," she hissed. He frowned at her, but didn’t advance any. Then he suddenly understood who she was, or where she was from, at least.
"You’re American!" Draco accused. "I wasn’t aware that Hogwarts was getting any exchange students."
"Yeah, well, maybe the world doesn’t revolve around you, and nobody thought you were important enough to tell!"
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "What crawled up your arse and died? I’m just doing
my sodding job
by telling you to go back to wherever the hell it is you came from because it’s after bloody hours
and you’re supposed to be in bed
like all good little girls."
"Maybe I’m not a good little girl," Dawn retorted, putting the knife down and going back to her sandwich. She wasn’t going to let this British asshole take away from the marvelous experience that was about to be her wicked cool sandwich.
Draco relaxed when she put the knife down, and was about to insert some scathingly witty observation when he was interrupted by sharp footsteps that could only belong to one person. He winced in anticipation.
"What are you children doing?" Professor McGonagall asked. "It’s after curfew!"
Draco tried to protest his innocence; after all, he was
just doing his job. "Sorry, Professor, but I found this–"
"Silence, Mister Malfoy!" she snapped, then turned to the American. "Miss Summers, you were under strict orders to remain in your quarters. What are you doing in the kitchen?"
"Making a sandwich, duh," Dawn said, rolling her eyes.
McGonagallgaped at her for a moment. "Detention!" she managed to say, frowning harshly. "You, too, Mister Malfoy. Prefect or not, curfew is curfew! Now, both of you, back to your quarters before Mister Filch catches you."
"But I can’t get detention!" Dawn whined. "I’m not even a student in this fucking school!"
"Oh, yes you can!" McGonagall said, "and you’re lucky you don’t belong to a House or I would take Points away for your language! Now, off to bed! Immediately!"
"Well done, loser," Dawn muttered as her and Draco shuffled out of the kitchen. "Now I don’t even get to eat my stupid sandwich."
"You’re the one who was making all the bloody noise!" Draco objected. She stuck her tongue out at him and he frowned at her. She was certainly a strange girl.
"Transfiguration room, eight o’clock tomorrow!" McGonagall snapped as she swept past them. "Don’t be late."
"You suck," Dawn told him after the professor had left, and before Draco could say anything, the American disappeared into the dark hallway.
suck," he called to her back, before shaking his head in bewilderment and returning to his quarters in the Slytherin House.
"Do I have
to go?" Dawn whined to her sister as the detention hour was quickly approaching. "I don’t even go
here. That should, like, exclude me from the rules or something!"
"No, Dawnie. You broke the rules, and
you were rude to a teacher. That equals detention," Buffy said distractedly, doing a quick inventory of the weapons chest she’d brought along. The Dumbly-man said that she could patrol the Forbidden Forest tonight, and she was psyched. The Cleveland Hellmouth was been too quiet for her liking.
"Faith?" Dawn tried, turning to the dark Slayer with pleading eyes. "Please?"
Faith grinned and shook her head. "Don’t go bringing me into the sibling rivalry, D. Hell, I’m all for skipping detention, but I think B might try to kick my ass if I helped you."
"Damn right I would," Buffy said, her voice muffled because her head was buried in the chest.
Faith snorted. "I said try
. You could try as hard as you want, but you ain’t never
kicking my ass."
"Been there, done that, took a picture," Buffy muttered.
"This is fucking–"
"Dawn!" Buffy snapped, jerking out of the weapons chest and glaring at her sister. "Language!"
Dawn pouted. "What, you can say ‘damn’ and I can’t say ‘f–‘"
"Yes! Now get your butt down to detention before I wash your mouth out with soap! And you, Little Miss I-Can-Teach-Seventeen-Year-Old-Girls-to-Swear, we’re gonna have a chat."
Faith rolled her eyes at Dawn. "Now don’t you wish you were staying?"
Dawn groaned and trudged out the door and down the hall to the Transfiguration room. She contemplated crossing her arms over her chest and stomping the whole way there, but decided against it in case the professors gave detentions for ‘childishness’.
"Why don’t you bloody act your age?" a sharp voice snarled from behind her. Dawn whirled around and glared at the blonde boy.
"Shut the fuck up," she snapped. She was sick of people telling her what to do, and she decided to channel Faith and swear at all who did.
Draco blinked at her as she swept past him and strode into the Transfiguration room. She was one bloody annoying female and something told him that this detention in particular was going to be more hellish than others, no matter what McGonagall had them do.
McGonagall was tapping her foot in irritation as he strode into her classroom, and Summers was smirking at him like a sodding teachers pet. He
was the one who was going to be on time, and she
had distracted him… too bad he’d never breathe a word of it to McGonagall, lest she think he was trying to be a kiss-arse.
"Glad you decided to join us, Mister Malfoy," she said sternly, and Summers kept on smirking so irritatingly that he wanted to hex her mouth right off her face. "Tonight, you two will be scrubbing the desks – without magic,
mind you – until they have returned to their normal pristine conditions. Merlin help me, that Weasley girl brought in some sort of disastrous new toy from her brothers’ shop…" The professor shook her head in pain, and as Draco eyed the purple goop oozing from every pore of the wooden desks, he wondered what the bloody hell those Weasleys came up with this time. "I will return in four hours, and I expect you to be finished by then. Good night." McGonagall strode purposefully out of the room, leaving Dawn and Draco alone.
"Well, get on with it, then," Draco said, gesturing with his hand to the desks. "She’ll be back in four hours."
"Me?" Dawn sputtered. "You
get on with it! You’re the one who got us in trouble in the first place! I was just making a stupid sandwich
, and you had to come in and be all ‘I’m Mr. High-and-Mighty-Prefect’ and threaten to take points away, whatever the hell those
are. And while we’re at it, what the hell is a ‘prefect’? You can’t just go and make random threats without explaining them first. You think you know something about threats? I
know something about threats. If you knew what my hometown was like, you’d be shaking in your boots, jackass."
"Will you shut up
," Draco hissed, but Dawn didn’t seem to hear him and kept ranting. Draco shook his head at her and imagined all the different hexes he could cast her way to give himself some peace and quiet, but then he remembered that earlier that day he’d discovered that this bloody annoying American was the sister to the Slayer, which was someone he did not want to cross. So he did the only thing he could think of to preserve his sanity, and he kissed her.
Dawn’s eyes widened in shock as she felt his cool lips suddenly pressed against hers. It was only because she was surprised, of course, that she opened her mouth to cautiously receive his tongue, and it was only because she was caught off guard, of course, that she moaned against him as his tongue explored her mouth. And it was only because she was completely astonished, of course, that she made a little noise of disappointment when he backed away and took his mouth with him.
"There," Draco said snottily, re-adjusting his robes that had become disheveled due to Dawn's confusion.
"There?" she echoed, gaping at him and unconsciously licking her swollen lips. Draco’s eyes followed her tongue, but he shook his head before his mind led him down a path he bloody well did not want to go down.
"Um," he told her, staring at her mouth. "You were talking like a madwoman, and I couldn’t take it. So I shut you up. That’s all."
"My ass, that’s all," Dawn snapped, and launched herself at him. He squawked, but the sound only lasted for a second, because after that their lips were fused together. All their hatred towards each other was channeled into this one action; Dawn feverishly ran her hands through his hair and Draco managed to get one hand under her shirt and was pressing his fingers into her back.
!" a sharp and surprised voice burst in, and Dawn and Draco sprang apart and hastily wiped their respective mouths and fixed their respective clothing. Professor McGonagall was staring at them in a most reproachful manner, and Dawn had the decency to blush. "I was coming in to monitor your progress, children; thank heavens I did not wait any longer! Now, back to scrubbing the desks! Opposite ends of the classroom, the both of you!"
She strode out of the room, leaving Dawn and Draco staring at each other in a heated manner.
"So," Dawn started uncomfortably. "We gotta scrub."
"Indeed," Draco mused, smirking at her. "You know what would make this interesting? If–"
"I am not scrubbing naked, you ass, now get to work!"
"Fine," he muttered, reaching for a sponge and dipping it in the soapy water McGonagall had left for them. Dawn did the same, and she brushed his hand with her fingers as she pulled the sponge out of the water. He looked up at her, and she half-smiled at him, making him swallow.
"When this is over, Malfoy, special guests have their own rooms," she said suggestively, winking at him before sauntering over to the other end of the room. Draco swallowed again, then scrubbed harder than he’d ever scrubbed in his life.