Sometimes the Dragon Wins

All right, a reasonably lengthy author's note coming up. I've been scouring some of the other fanfics and I somehow arrived to the conclusion that most of the really good author's come up with Latin chapter headings. So, in a bid to be both popular and unoriginal, I did the same. Only problem is that my Latin vocabulary is next to non-existant. I only know a few rather dreary phrases ("Et tu, Brutus?" being one of them.) This one, "quantus tremor est futurus" roughly translates as "What trembling is to be."

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CHAPTER 7 - QUANTUS TREMOR EST FUTURUS

"Fee fi fo fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman."

-The giant in Jack and the Beanstalk.

"The door doesn't want to open," Millicent Bulstrode announced, shrugging her shoulders.

Draco marched on over to her irritably, "Did you get the inflection right?"

Hermione grinned. How many inflections were there in the word sex? It was not like you were saying 'Wingardium Leviosa' or something like that.

"Sex!" Draco snapped.

He pushed against the door and heaved. "Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex."

A very perverted corner in Hermione's mind was quite turned on by Draco as he panted and heaved against the door, chanting the password rhythmically.

"Come on!" he groaned. "Urgh! Just! Come! On!"

That wasn't helping. She turned away from the spectacle and bit her lip.

"Hermione! Come on! Help a little here!"

Oh no. The combined factors of not looking and those words made the images even clearer and more palpable. She turned back to help anyway.

"What are you grinning about?" Draco demandedas she braced her arms against the door.

"Nothing," she said coolly. "Isn't there another password?"

"I don't know," he said irritably. "One, two, three, heave!"

It didn't even tremble slightly.

"Bloody giants," Draco grumbled. "Bloody Pansy." He blew a blonde hair out of his eyes. "Okay, this is not going to work. Let's try another password. Err, masturbation! Pornography!"

The door remained unflappably closed.

"Vibrator!" contributed Crabbe.

"Bondage!" offered William Thornton.

"Sadomachism!" Millicent yelled enthusiastically.

"What's that?" one of the first years asked curiously.

Millicent cleared her throat and glared.

In spite of herself, Hermione burst out giggling.

Draco eyed her irritably. "What now Granger? Getting turned on? Need a room?"

She flushed slightly. "No."

"You sure?" he leered.

"Malfoy," she growled.

The mirthful expression faded from his face and he leaned against the door. "What do we do about Pansy?"

"Isn't there another way out? We can't leave her."

"Well yeah, I have heard of another way. Some kind of strange plant that you have to climb down..."

"Big plant?" Hermione interrupted. "Reaches up to the clouds? Beanstalk?"

"Something like that. Why?"

"Oh, there's this Muggle fairy tale about a giant and a beanstalk," Hermione said. "This nasty little boy who couldn't find work sold a cow for a bunch of magical beans, and he invaded this giants' home, stole dozens of his most precious artefacts, and then killed the giant so that his maudlin mother and him could live happily ever after."

"What was this Muggle's name?" Draco inquired.

"Jack."

Draco shrugged. "That's not a fairy tale. It's true. Bloody Muggles. However, I've heard this amazing tale about this Intern in this palace who toppled the president of a country. Now that is just not viable."

"My mum used to read that one to me as a bed-time story," Millicent agreed.

"You think the beanstalk might still be there then?" Draco asked.

Hermione smiled to herself. "I think it might."

So fairy tales were true after all. Another thought occurred to her.

"But how can it reach up to the clouds if we have to climb down it and we're already underground?"

"Multiple dimensions, Granger. You're such a Muggle. Our house is like that. You're in the dungeons one moment and then you trot down some stairs and you're in the highest tower."

"I'll remember that if I'm ever in the dungeons at your house," she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, or you could just take the lift. We don't use the dungeons anymore - it's a kind of storage place now."

"Where do you keep your prisoners then?" she asked casually.

"Oh get off it Granger. Stop looking for dungeons behind every bush."

"Well, you probably at least have an Iron Maiden," she said hopefully.

"...Or Iron maidens in every tree." He looked exasperated. "Do you know where this beanstalk thing could be?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps something I see will trigger my memory."

"Fine." He looked at the Slytherins. "The rest of you, stay here for the moment. We don't all want to get hopelessly lost on Granger's misdirections. See if you can get the bloody door to open. I'll go with Granger and we'll see if we can find this dumb plant." He started walking away.

She could distinctly hear him mutter, "This is wasting my bloody time."

"Well come on!" he snapped, glaring at her over his shoulder.

She trotted after him rather reluctantly. "Why is it wasting your time Malfoy? We have nothing terribly important to do here, except hide."

"I do," he said.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You have to tell me."

"Stop nagging Granger. My patience is wearing very thin."

He looked it too.

"Draco, we're all in this together. You can't just..."

"I'm warning you."

"...Keep secrets from the rest. We can help you. What do you have to do?"

He sighed. "You asked for it."

She saw the wand in his hand too late. "Avolare," he snarled.

Hermione flew up against the wall and hovered in mid-air. She tried not to look down.

"I have a fear of heights Malfoy," she said, as calmly as she could. "Let me down."

She was level with a very hungry looking stone giant's mouth.

"Let me down," she said, softly and dangerously.

"I don't feel like it," he said, folding his arms and looking up at her. "You have a very nice tummy though, I must say."

She slapped her hands to her sweatshirt. What else could he see from below?

"Damn, you really look good from this angle," Draco commented, tilting his head sideways.

"I'm warning you Malfoy, let me down now."

"Not until you promise to shut up."

That did it. She grabbed her own wand. "Limus!" she cried.

Draco's clean form was suddenly spluttered with mud. As he clutched his face bewilderedly she let herself down to the ground slowly. "Ponere Cautus."

Malfoy made the mud vanish and held his wand ready again.

"We can reason this out like grown ups," Hermione suggested.

"Don't want to. This is too much fun. Admodum Appotus!"

Hermione was suddenly very, very drunk.

"You bastard," she managed to gasp before walking into a pillar.

She extricated herself from it. Whoo...floating...she was floating...why wasn't everybody as happy as she was?

"Come here Granger, before you hurt yourself."

With the agility of the very drunk she sped towards Malfoy and put her arm around his neck very firmly. How had she moved so fast?

"Granger, really..."

"D'you know what?" she asked him, wondering why her voice sounded so far away.

"I should have known you couldn't handle an alcohol spell." His voice sounded so...clear.

She ignored him. "Know what? Know what? You're not as mean as you think you are you know. You think you're really mean but you're not. You're not that mean."

"Oh gods," he muttered.

She stared at the blurry face again. "Mean mean Malfoy," she said happily.

He was so-o-o handsome, with those serious eyes and that imperious mouth. Why hadn't she noticed it before? But no. But no, she had noticed it before.

She snorted and burst out laughing. Her movements felt so slow and forced.

Draco was smiling slightly.

"Mean mean handsome Malfoy!" she exclaimed, planting a kiss on his cheek. Everything was blurring, even his rolling eyes. She felt quite nauseous suddenly.

"Granger, you need to brush your teeth."

"Want to puke," she groaned.

"Oh gods. I wish I knew the counter-spell. Come here." She felt his hand clasp her waist firmly as he led her towards a pillar.

"Sit with you head forward," he commanded.

"Okay." She sat with his help. "I feel sick."

"I know." She felt him move the hair out of her face and hold it up. "You have too much hair. Please don't soil my shoes."

"Thank you," she managed weakly, before retching.

When she'd done, the spell seemed to lose its effect and sobriety came rushing back.

"Oh no," she groaned.

Draco released her hair with a grimace. A quick flick of his wand cleared up the mess. He handed her his handkerchief promptly. "Here. You might want to wipe your mouth."

She felt herself blushing as she took the proffered silk hanky. "I can't use this."

"Use it," he said, sounding annoyed.

Still kneeling, she wiped her mouth, wishing that she could clean her intestines as well.

"Thank you Malfoy," she said embarrassedly.

"It's fine. I didn't want mudblood puke all over me."

She got up slowly, wondering whether anybody could be such an utter prat without having sever psycho-social problems. Most probably he was really a sweet guy, and some kind of repressed psychological urge made him lash out. Most probably.

'As if,' a nasty little voice said inside her head.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

"I'm fine now."

They walked for a while. Hermione tried to organise her thoughts. "I never want to be drunk again," she murmured.

"I don't want you to ever be drunk again either," he said, smiling slightly.

There was more contemplative silence.

"I meant what I said, you know."

"About me being handsome?" he grinned wickedly.

"About you not being as mean as you think you are."

"Granger, I'm as mean as I know I am," he said. "Stop thinking that I'm a big old softy beneath my mean, handsome exterior."

"But you are a big softy," she lied, enjoying the insulted gasp next to her.

"Never Granger. I'm definitely handsome though."

She glanced at him. Yep. He was that.

"You are handsome," she observed unexpectedly. She wiped the victorious smile off his face by adding: "But I'm not into looks anyway."

He scowled. "You're not as perfect as everyone thinks you are."

"I know," she sighed.

He looked discontented, probably because she hadn't tried to deny it.

The walk through the cavernous hall was a silent one from that point on.

Hermione was trying not to smile.

Draco was trying to scowl.

They passed into another, less elaborate but still impressive stone corridor.

She felt so small. She had to practically lean backwards to see the roof. How big were these giants anyway? She hoped they were gone.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

It sounded very much like enormous footsteps.

Oh no. She shouldn't have thought that.

Overhead a chandelier was beginning to swing gently.

The ground under their feet was trembling.

******************

Shit.

Draco looked over to Hermione. Her face, which had been flushed with some kind of emotion -triumph, or perhaps embarrassment -, was pale now.

He craned his neck to see the chandelier above them swaying.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The footsteps were louder.

He stared as an enormous figure swung into view at the other end of the corridor.

'Well, that rules hiding out,' he muttered under his breath.

As the figure closed in he couldn't help staring in fascination. He'd never physically seen a giant, but he'd imagined them many times.

When he'd been about four years old he'd thought his father had to be a giant.

People had treated Lucius Malfoy with such reverence, that he'd actually seemed about ten feet taller than he was.

The giant, however, was physically twelve foot taller than Draco wa, and three times as wide.

He wasn't fat though. He did not have a protruding beer belly or an enormous, tangled beard, and he wasn't wearing a leather jerkin (whatever that was.)

He was wearing what looked suspiciously like black leather. Black leather pants, a black leather coat and black lizard-skin boots.

How many cows and lizards had been sacrificed for that outfit?

The giant's hair was reasonably short and sleek - in fact, it looked a lot like Draco's own hair except that it was black.

His face was angular and stern.

'Utterly cool,' Draco couldn't help thinking.

He was a bit disappointed that this bloke did not seem to be the "fee-fi-fo- fum"-type, but hey, he was big, he was graceful, he was devilishly handsome, his lip was curled in an arrogant sneer... 'He's me,' Draco thought, feeling much better about the situation.

He only had to out-Draco the giant.

Which, of course, was difficult seeing that he was three times smaller, but he would prevail.

Up close, the giant was all clinging leather and heaving nostrils. Draco remembered to be frightened just in time.

"Who disturbs my slumber?" the giant drawled, looking at them rather lazily. His voice was like an avalanche. A very smooth avalanche. "I did not want to say that, but I'm afraid it's tradition."

Draco stared at him in amazement. 'Am I this cool?' he wondered.

Well, of course he was. He was Draco Malfoy. He could feel Hermione quivering beside him.

"Not talking, are you? Shy little maggots! Just as well. I'm rather vexed that you've come in here, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to follow the next tradition and lock you up. This is a sacred place after all."

Draco didn't have anything to contribute. He was spellbound. Every sneer was a work of art, every disdainful flash of eye a blink of bliss.

"We're wizards, you know," Hermione said bravely, spoiling everything.

"Yes?" the giant said politely.

Hermione wet her lips. "We can... we can put a spell on you." Her eyes were wide.

Draco stared in adoration at his new hero, wondering what his reply would be.

"Oh, I'd prefer you don't. The last time a wizard put a spell on me my leg itched for a week. I'm afraid your spells don't have much effect on us, but they can be a tad annoying sometimes." He bent down, allowing Draco to see every groomed hair in his nostril, and patted his enormous hand onto Hermione's fluffy head. "Jolly good show though."

Draco managed not to shriek as that same hand reached over, picked him up as if he were a teddy bear and tucked him under his arms.

Damn, he smelled good. Could it be... Draco sniffed incredulously. Yes, it was Paco Rabanne. He felt as if he'd died and gone to heaven. He was nestled under the armpits of his larger self, and it was more amazing than he'd ever thought it could be.

Granger, who was nestled under the other leather-clad arm, was too sensible to scream.

Draco had actually entertained thoughts of a giant Draco Malfoy more than once, mostly in the bitter moments after Potter had rubbed his own face in the dust. Draco's visions had mostly contained his giant self walking over to Potter... and stomping on him. He'd never really thought his giant alter ego existed though.

The giant started walking.

Draco would have tried to attempt some polite conversation, but it [if] the giant was anything like himself, he wouldn't be in the mood for polite conversation right now.

The air-lift didn't last too long - much to Draco's regret, he was in Paco Rabanne heaven - and the giant threw them into a room at the end of the corridor. He took their wands away and attached their wrists to a pair of manacles lurking against the wall. He did even that with a sense of magnificent boredom.

"Now, please, don't try to escape," he drawled. "I imagine," he studied his fingernails, "Things will go downhill from there for you. I might have to be traditional again and make some sort of giant's stew with you in it, but I'm a vegetarian so I'd rather not. This cell has a nice view at least."

With that, he slammed the door, his thudding footsteps sounding farther away.

Draco craned his neck to see out of the window.

"It is a nice view," he commented casually.

Being underground, the window mostly showcased a lot of... cave. But there were some interesting formations.

"Dammit Malfoy! We're not here to admire the bloody view. How do we get out of here?"

She was much too excitable.

"Damned if I know."

"You better figure it out soon."

"Oh no, I don't want to. This is so much fun."

"If only we had our wands," Hermione muttered after a moment of glaring. "Why are we here anyway?"

"We needed a place to hide," he said coolly.

"But why here, Malfoy? Not that I've ever thought you have any common sense whatsoever, but even a complete moron would not go charging into the Lost City of the Giants. Why are we here?"

There was no way he was going to tell anyone that.

"You should calm down, it's bad for your heart."

"How would you know? You don't even have one."

"Oooh!" he said mockingly. "That hurt. That was a lame insult Granger. I expect better from you."

"I'm tired all right?" she said. "And dirty. And scared. And irritated with you."

"I always find that I insult at my best when I'm in that condition," he said carefully. There was an almost audible hysterical note in her voice. He shouldn't send her overboard. God knows, he didn't want to listen to a hysterical mudblood in his current position.

"Well, that's you Malfoy. I'm different."

"I've noticed," he said calmly.

"Just please tell me why we are here, so that I could get a little bit of perspective."

"No Granger. Now relax and enjoy the view."

AN HOUR LATER:

"Please tell me."

"No."

"Come on."

"No Granger. Look at that beautiful stalactite formation over there."

"I don't want to."

"Fine. I'm enjoying the stalactite formation. Don't break my concentration by whining."

TWO HOURS LATER:

"Malfoy..."

"I don't want to hear it..."

"I've been thinking that we've started out on the wrong foot and that..."

"Forget it Granger. I'm not going to tell you why we're here."

"I wasn't trying to manipulate you or anything..."

"You weren't doing a good job. I'm not going to tell you."

"Stuff you!"

THREE HOURS LATER:

"My wrists hurt," Hermione said softly.

Draco looked over towards her. After every one of those fine stalactites outside the window had been observed, perused, admired, he'd been thinking.

There were definitely drawbacks to the giant being a lot like him, was what he'd been thinking.

First of all, it meant the giant was selfish.

That was not a promising thought. No prisoner wanted a selfish captor, and neither did Draco Malfoy.

Secondly, it meant that he most probably had a devil-may-care attitude. This was really cool on a catwalk, but on a prison guard[,] it was a rather undesirable personality trait.

'Are we ever going to eat?' Draco wondered. 'Are we ever going to be let [replace let with set] free?'

The mudblood was looking rather desperate and forlorn.

He stared at her for a moment. She looked very sexy with her wrists cuffed to the wall, but the expression and the limp shoulders marred the provocative picture.

"Granger," he said.

She looked over towards him dully.

He cleared his throat and looked away.

"I'll tell you why we're here. We had to come here. But you better not tell anyone else."