"Get out!" Hermione shouted, holding her towel tighter around her chest.

Eyes still wide, Draco replied, "But...then where will I go?"

"Somewhere else, duh!" She snapped, becoming a little too edgy. She walked over to the bathroom, keeping one evil eye on Draco and slammed the door behind her. For crying out loud, she thought, inhaling deeply. I'm so embarrassed...the bastard... She pulled on her under garments and mini skirt, only to find her shirt wasn't in the bathroom. All she had to cover her top now was her black bra. She furrowed her brows annoyingly and slammed the door back open, not bothering to cover her top up.

"Do you have anywhere to be, Draco?" She asked calmly but still edgy, hinting a tone of anger.

"I would, but the old lady at the counter told me to go upstairs and holy shh...oot," he covered up for shit, glancing at her bust size.

"Nothing I like more than a slobbery pervert," she smiled sarcastically and went to her suitcase, pulling out a ruffled white shirt and pulling it over her head. "Once you think about it, MALFOY, breasts are just another deformed body tissue which mainly consists of fat. What is the big deal about a girl's bust size? Nothing! That's like having an erection to a morbidly obese woman, which disturbs me...tell me, what do men see is boobs?" She asked, placing both hands on her hips. Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to find the right words to say. After a few moments, he closed his mouth altogether.

"Well, they're...a form of sex, which turns men on. Fondling breasts turn on woman, I should hope, or give some sort of pleasure, so we figure the bigger the breasts the better the sex," Draco pondered over words, choosing each one carefully.

Hermione smirked, although in no mood to agree, "Well, then tell me, oh leader of men, what is the deal with jacking off to breasts?" (By the way, do not dare tell me 'jerking' off is the correct assumption, there are many terms to the matter, so why don't you look some up, eh?)

"Because we're all pigs, can't explain that," Draco gave up, walking over to the bed and setting his suitcases down next to hers, "And I have no where to sleep so you're just going to have to move over tonight."

"Is that a demand?" She asked sweetly, cupping her hands in front of her, "Besides, you have yet to chose a room when you weren't here. Why'd you run off, anyway?"

"Forgot this," he threw his brown leather shoulder bag onto the bed, smiling back at her falsely.

"You seem to forget a lot," she concluded, staring down at it. He sat down on the bed and sighed, looking back up at her.

"I get this side," he claimed, lying down on the bed.

"Hell no, you're sleeping on the floor," she snapped, going on the other side and sitting down on the bed, attempting to push him off with her whimsy, pale hands but to no avail.

"If I sleep on the floor then I'm taking the blanket," Draco gave his usual smart ass comment, not budging one bit. She wasn't very athletic or strong. She groaned in exasperation and began punching his pale arms, not doing much damage or effect to it though. He cackled lightly in amusement to her effort and looked to the doorway, seeing a black feline sitting there. She padded over to him and jumped on the bed gracefully, resting on his legs.

"See? She wants to me to sleep on the bed," Draco told Hermione, turning over to face her. She had given up and sunk down next to him, folding her arms.

"Fine, Mr. Smart Ass, just keep a safe distance away from me," she warned, sitting up in bed.

"Good. Now that we have that settled, I'm going to pass the time by reading," he sat up and pushed Milady off, opening his leather bag and pulling out a thick book.

"Pleasure," Hermione sneered, deciding whether to sleep right now or read a text object. She grew tired of the many books she owned and carried around, so maybe she could slip into the store below and grab a quick book to read. She got up out of bed and walked across the room, almost touching the fading gold doorknob when Draco made her jump.

"You're going down there?" He asked immediately, a little jumpy.

"Yes, I want to read. Will you let me read or what?"

"Sure, but it's just, I wouldn't go down there if I were you."

"Well, you're not me, are you?" She opened the door a little wider than it already was and stepped into the dark hall way. Anything could be lurking in it, which gave her a chilling creep up the spine.

"When I was down there, I saw something. Not the owner but a ghoul or ghost or something, I can't very well describe it," Draco informed her, setting down the book and standing up steadily, almost attempting to follow her.

"Oh, and I dear trust your memory. You know, remembering your suitcases and all made that bond stronger," she gulped, hiding her hint of fear with sarcasm. It didn't very well look bright and shiny down stairs in the store, but she wasn't going to listen to Draco anytime soon.

"Fine, suit yourself," he said, sitting back down and mentally slapping himself for ever considering escorting her.

"Fine," she mumbled, walking down the small hall way and down the creaky, wooden staircase. It was completely black with only the blue moonlight shining through the tall, slim windows. Small footsteps followed behind her as a bead of sweat formed at her forehead. Wait, I'm letting my imagination run off with me! She thought, shaking her head. She stuck out her fear and sped all of the way down, then wishing Draco would have went with her. Another set of light, fast pads followed behind her, then a black fury thing rubbing up against her leg. "Aah!" She yelped, jumping back. She squinted downwards and sighed of relief; it was only Milady.

"Came to keep me company?" Hermione whispered, a light gleaming off of the cat's green and yellow eyes. She looked back up and stuck out her chest, walking down the rows of books barefooted. It seemed a lot like a library, without the dust and decaying of books. Milady looked around too with anxious eyes, following Hermione closely from behind.

"Pretty creepy, isn't it?" Hermione shivered, slowly walking down another row of dusty shelves. It wasn't as eerie during the day, but it seemed like at night everything turned upside down. She wasn't necessarily looking at the books and taking note of them, she was merely staring at them, too caught up in her own fear. A blury image flashed before her eyes at the end of the row, just a few feet ahead of her.

"Ok, now I'm starting to believe Draco," she whispered, stopping in mid step. Deciding it for the best, she began running to the staircase, away from the things that go bump in the night. Right when she hit the first step, a cold finger tapped on her shoulder. She gasped and turned around, hoping nothing would be there and it would all be her imagination.

Laughing, Draco stepped back as Hermione stepped forward. He stopped his disturbing sniggering when she slapped him across his pale cheek, getting her portion of anger out. "You scared me!" She exclaimed, storming past him.

"It was your imagination considering the thought of fear, Hermione," he stated, caressing his now red cheek and turning around to face her, "Besides, I came down here to keep you company. I also got bored."

"And that so easily happens with you," she spat, walking with Milady back down the rows, refusing to fright when Draco was down here.

"I suppose, I have a short attention span, I guess," he assumed, looking about and following her slowly.

"Why don't you go-" Hermione stopped dead in her sentence, voice trailing off as she saw a white, blurry object pass at the end of the row, this time unlike human.

"Go...where?" He asked, stepping up by her side, "We should have brought a flashlight or candle..."

"You think?" She snapped, not daring to step forward, "I could have sworn I saw something..."

"Told you," he stretched his words into a childish howl, stepping in front of her. "Want to try and find it? That blurry white thing-a-mabob?"

"Double dog dare you to try," Hermione stated quickly, staying close by him, now becoming afraid.

"I'll triple that bet on myself!" He added, running at the end of the rows and down the way the white object went. Sometimes he can be snotty, but now he was leaping into his childish side, as Hermione followed him with Milady by her side. She didn't want to get killed by a ghost for not being near the protection of a seeker. Draco looked about anxiously, as the blurry image passed behind another bookcase. They ran after it, wondering what their objective was when they would catch up to it. Hermione shook with fear, as Draco shook with excitement, finally finding something worth being found. The supposed ghost disappeared upstairs, and that's when they stopped running.

"Umm..." Draco trailed off, a bit afraid to follow it this time.

"What if it does something to Terry and Susan?" Hermione gasped, holding onto either side of her arms.

"Well, it's not like anyone would miss them," he replied, taking a step on the old stairs anyway.

"That is so rude. Let's follow it, maybe it's not a ghost but the owner playing a trick on us," she told him, walking steadily up the staircase. They steadied up the stairs slowly, hoping the ghost wouldn't come down the stairs again. Now they were scared. Breathing scarcely, they made it to the dark and gloomy corridor and stopped, hearts beating fast. Suddenly and unsuspectingly, the white image fell from the ceiling and turned to them.

Her chestnut hair was in a decorative bun with pearls and a gold hairnet hanging from it. A corset and thick green dress hung from her shoulders, which had puffs on both arms. She looked like a queen with many jewels, and did not at all look harmful, until she rasped in a deep voice, "You will die next," and disappeared.

Draco and Hermione looked at each other with flushing faces and screamed into the cold depths of the night. They sprinted to their warm, safe room and slammed the door shut after Milady sped in. Hermione rolled on the other side of the bed and hid under the covers, as Draco pushed a redwood dresser in front of the door (the idea of a ghost coming through the wood drew clueless to him) and dashed under the blanket as well, Milady scooting between them.

Hermione stared at Draco from under the covers in fright, as he did her. Mr. Malfoy wasn't so tough anymore. He calmed down after a minute and shook the covers off. Becoming less terrified, he speed walked over to the light switch and turned the bulb off, running back under the blanket.

"I'm scared," Hermione squeaked, holding herself in a warm embrace. Milady got up and walked from under the covers to the outside of the bed and at the edge to guard them bravely. Such an intelligent cat.

Draco nodded and scooted forward, Hermione scooting forward as well. She nestled her head into the warmth of his chest as he put a large arm around her, both nuked in their own heat. So what if it's silly, she thought with a shiver, that ghost better not come in here, damn the thought of it!

~~~~~~

Draco peeked open an eye, tightening his grip around Hermione. After a moment or so, he opened both eyes and turned his head a little. They were still nestled under the covers; Hermione resting her head by his chest peacefully. From a distance, he heard a soft rapping at the door. He pulled the cover off of his head groggily and looked out from the near window, it being a lit vast distance of wild grass. It was sunrise already and he was guessing (or hoping) it was Susan or Terry knocking at the door.

He shook Hermione lightly and carefully and stared down at her, wondering what she was dreaming. Hermione stretched a yawn and opened her eyes slowly, looking back up at him.

"We actually made it through the night?" She joked, sitting up immensely, voice low from a sleep.

"Astonishing!" He added with sarcasm, sitting up in bed. Hermione, hair a bit tossed about, stood up from the warm bed and stretched, then padding over to her suitcase on the other side of the bed. Draco got up as well and leaned over to his own, snapping it open and pulling out a pair of tight, black pants and black shirt and setting it on the bed. Hermione, opening hers too, pulled out a pair of deep blue, baggy pants along with a tight black T-shirt with 'The Cure' printed across it in bold, white print. Draco, still sitting on his side of the bed, removed his dark green robe, exposing his tight black shirt and pants. He looked down, realizing he must have shook off his combat boots sometime during the night.

"Wonder who the hell that ghost was?" He asked out of curiosity, yanking his black shirt from over his head, now exposing a set of tight biceps. Hermione tried not to goggle or even look it at, but couldn't help peering down at it a few times as she spoke.

"Probably a relative of the owner's or an ancient ghost that has been there for probably before the owner was here," Hermione guessed, turning her to her suitcase and quickly grabbing a black bra before his eyes could match with it. "I'm dressing in the bathroom, I don't trust you." She gathered up all of her clothing in one arm and strutted into the bathroom, leaving Draco alone to think.

"It's a strong trickery, isn't it?" The brunette muggle boy had said in the heavy metal chains and shackles attached to the wall. He was the one sacrifice, and if they didn't kill him now, Draco and all of the other Voldemort supporters would be doomed for another fifty years silence until the next one would come along and they could reign terror again. He had talked with the brunette, Eric, off and on during the summer, and as much as Draco didn't want to become attached to the muggle, he, in a way, did. They chose Draco to kill him, and it was the exact minute before he was too.

"What is?" Draco asked, sticking his head a bit in between his legs as he sat down, knees bent and voice muffled. He gripped the dagger tightly, it already being sweaty and hot in his right hand.

"The world, mainly. Never knew I'd become a sacrifice for a bunch of evil wizards one day, but it's everyone's life dream, isn't it? To have a 'special' type of blood just right for you guys to reign terror," Eric stated with humor; he had been the optimistic guy so far. Guess he knew he was going to die and screaming did nothing for him. He jangled his metal cuff against the chains that were locked in a pulse throbbing disposition and whistled brightly to himself.

"Look, I'm sorry that I have to do this, but there's no way out for either of us. I've got a loony father and nuts leader on my side, and they won't be pleased if I back out now," Draco replied uncomfortably, looking up at the fifteen year old, "Hell, guess it wouldn't matter if I backed out though. The best Lucius can do to me is kick me out. Voldemort would probably track me down and slaughter me into a million micro-size pieces, but what's that going to do for him?" He sighed, putting his head back down as the mellow voices drawled closer to the room, about a thousand or so hums following.

"They're coming," Eric stated in panic, looking down at Draco, "Look, I know you're not the friendliest person to regular people, but could you help me? Please? I don't like living, but I don't want to die yet. I still haven't succeeded in any career or anything like that! I need more time," the pale muggle pleaded, fear in his chestnut brown eyes and shivering under his tattered plaid clothing. A surge of anxiousness crept along Draco's body as the chamber door slammed open, Lucius and Voldemort stepping inside and awaiting Draco to get up.

"...I've got your back," he mumbled to Eric as he stood up, facing Lucius' wild eyes.

Shaking his head from the small, vivid memory, he looked down, viewing his wash board biceps and upside-down cross. Smirking, he remembered when he bought that at a Satanist muggle store in town. Even though most wizards didn't believe in whatever mythological creature was supposed to live in the sky, he thought it would be rather funny to see the look on those... What are they called...Christians when he shone the ivory, upside down cross on a thick metal chain in their faces for no apparent reason at all. He never took it off since, even to slumber, and even when someone would tell him he could choke to death in his sleep from it, he never believed that theory since it never happened.

He stood up broadly and unbuckled his studded belt, whipping it off and pulling down his black pants to throw on a cleaner pair of yes, black pants (he sure has variety, doesn't he?). Not bothering to change his silky blue boxers (and sanitary!), he threw on his tight black pants messily and pulled back on the studded, black belt.

"Do you ever go in the sunlight?" Hermione asked, closing the bathroom door from behind her and walking over to her suitcase to pull out a pair of socks.

"Do you?" Draco returned the crude question, grabbing his shirt roughly.

"Good point," she answered, finding a pair of socks and squatted down, pulling them on quickly. "Though normally, you'd see a guy's biceps all golden and gleaming."

"Well, I don't qualify as normal, do I?" He replied, pulling his shirt over his head in a matter of pinto-seconds.

"No, guess not. Well, neither do I, but who would want to be normal and fit in with the crowd? That's like being lost in a crowd of people all dressing in white like you, but when you actually have originality, it's more like wearing black in that crowd and more likely to be spotted out as an individual. Not dressing like anybody but how you want to and what makes it different," Hermione analyzed, looking over to the door, "And did you move the dresser in front of the door last night?"

"Umm..." Draco pondered, stuffing his hands into his small pockets, "maybe..."

"You are so stupid! Ghosts can GO THROUGH dressers!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling her zipper boots on her feet and standing up.

"Hey, I panicked!" Draco snapped, stalking over to the redwood dresser and pushing it away from the old door without effort. Hermione stifled a laugh and a sigh and swung the door open, strutting out of the room with Milady staring up at Draco. He looked down at her and jumped, "Why do you come out of nowhere all of the time?"

Hermione looked around, making sure no unsuspecting Quaker ghost was around, and tapped on Terry and Susan's door three times. Swaying back and forth after a moment or two, there was no reply. About to knock on the door again, the old woman named Jackie Weshart thudded up the creaky stairs and looked up at her at the last one. "Thee best not look in there! Thee friends are already up and about downstairs and about in the moor. I suggest thee and thy friend get moving!" Mrs. Weshart informed her, scrubbing and polishing a brass kettle with a weary, dull white rag.

She was about to go back downstairs until Hermione called out, "We had a little encounter with a ghost last night in the book store!" She twiddled with her fingers and bit her bottom lip as Mrs. Weshart stopped dead in her tracks and sighed.

"Tis Madame Lucille. She has been here a long time; since the 1500's in fact. My great, great, and so on cousin. She likes to give me a spook now and then and when there are visitors. Don't mind her business, she's just messin' with thy head. Might have played a prank on thy friends as well. Terribly sorry for her, she won't do it again. She may look pretty and petite, but she's a handful, I tell thee," Mrs. Weshart shook her head, giving Hermione a reassuring safe look and continued down the wooden steps.

"Well, that's a relief," Hermione sighed, turning back to enter the guestroom she had slept in with Draco. As she did, in front of her was Draco holding the entire luggage in his hands and on his shoulders, a bit wobbly.

"That's good to hear. But if I ever see that thing again I'm going to strangle it until it dies all over again," Draco cringed, dropping Hermione's suitcases on the dusty wood floor.

"I'd like to see thy try," an elegant voice lured. Hermione turned around again, hoping it wasn't what she thought it was. It was. Madame Lucille of the many diamonds and frills. Draco grunted and stepped forward, Milady stepping back a bit and hissing. Madame Lucille gave a light, hearty laugh, folding her hands in front of her waist and chin pointing upwards at the two with a smile. She had pale, visible dimples and her chestnut hair, like always, in a perfect genuine bun. Hermione gasped a little, mouth dropping slightly. Madame Lucille laughed again.

"You're not exactly lady like," Hermione noted after catching her breath.

"Neither is thy," Madame Lucille pointed out, examining her black T-shirt with 'The Cure' written across it. "I must say thee gave me quite a delight after scaring thy like I did," Madame Lucille told them, making careful steps towards them, looking them up from down. "But I must say, thee is pretty, and so is thy friend. Very handsome, I must ensure. Thy two must be goggling over each other, I dare say."

"Correction," Draco corrected her, stepping forward menacingly, "We're acquaintances. That's all. And who are you to judge? Probably haven't seen teenagers in years."

"Correction, young one, teenagers come and go all of the time and I have the pleasure to scare them off before Jackie can sell them a decent book. And I saw you two last night, in the bed, I'm not an idiot. By the way, who is the genius who moved a dresser in front of the door?" Madame Lucille asked, her fancy dress swaying. Hermione eyed Draco and picked up her stuff, prepared to leave.

"I'm quite happy we met, but as dreams end so do visits. I bid you good bye, Madame Lucille. Perhaps we shall meet again," Hermione said in a polite manner, walking past the dead Quaker woman. She watched as Hermione grew out of sight, and turned back to Draco. He tightened a grip around his luggage and followed after Hermione, trying not to make eye contact with the woman. Milady followed with her tail between her furry legs, avoiding the ghost.

Madame Lucille stared blankly after him and frowned, reappearing behind him and grabbing his throat with an ice-cold hand, snapping his head upwards.

"What the fuck," Draco groaned in a twisted voice, turning his eyes as far as he could in the sockets. Madame Lucille remained in a blank expression, lips at his ear.

"Protect the girl," she said in a shrill demonic voice, cold lips brushing against his ear lobe, "Something horrible will cross your path at that school. Beware of the silver and it may not see you." She disappeared right then, letting her grip go of his vocal chord. Milady had already run off with her tail between her legs; running to safety to Hermione. So did Draco, not wasting anymore time on that step. What silver now? He thought with an edge of panic, running outside to the moor.

+TBC+

Chapter Five of Thoughtless: Over the moor to London! They are almost there and Buddha forbid I stretch the traveling out more. I bet you I will, I know myself, I'll make some other delay! My gawd, Brandi! Just have them get to London by the 5th chapter, you know? (By the way, if you’ve seen Sleepy Hollow by Tim Burton, I pictured Madame Lucille’s voice to sound like that witch when she cast a spell to bring forth another witch when Madame Lucille did that demonic voice.)

BrAnDi's Note: Okay, I THOUGHT I was going to have them get to London in this chapter, but it's just not happening! I was going to name this one Moor to London, but NOOO. Cool chapter though. I SWEAR if anyone complains I'll rip out their bloody vocal chords with my bare hand and hang them from it from the light bulb that is burning over their heads! Complain of what, you ask? The following: Sex. Time. Other CRAP that I could care less for. Ok, this used to be in PG-13, so I don't think PG-13 would have sex scenes in it. I changed it to R because people were gay in PG-13 and it proceeds to get darker. BUT in Damned Eyes I may have sex, but the way people are complaining that will be delayed too. DRACO AND HERMIONE ARE ONLY 16 IN THIS. They're not whores! They don't even LOVE LOVE each other yet! JEES. But keep your hopes up. Dun dun dun. But HONESTLY, I don't like people that much, so I don't care about people reviewing that much. Review, though. To show your happiness or unhappiness or praise or bull shit. By the way, hell am I make this shorter. You wanna read a short sex story? Read something else. I have a PLOT, ok? And I am preparing to make a solid novel, and this is practice, got that too? Thank you for people who don't whine and plead and people that MAY happen to agree with me. Thank you, it is a pleasure having you read this then. Taking your small time out of your life to read Thoughtless! Any who, I'll be working on Damned Eyes (chapter 4) for the next few days so check up on this in about a week if you care to.

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