20

One of the Sheriff's Deputies kicked the gun out of Draco's reach, and it skittered across the ground. Hermione nonchalantly bent over, picked it up, and hid it behind her back.

Draco was standing there, looking as if he was mentally taking an excursion on a distant planet. Did he just commit murder, or was that just a figment of his imagination? He felt detatched from himself and wavered on a thin line between sanity and madness.

"Hands on your head!" the Sheriff shouted. He was still mounted on his horse, his shotgun pointed directly at Draco. "I said hands on your head!"

Draco slowly placed his hands on his head, his eyes caught Hermione's, and he saw her bring one hand from behind her back. The sun glinted off the polished metal of the hand gun she held. "No!" he mouthed. He didn't need her to start a shoot out just to save him! What if she got hurt?

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him. It was clear that he didn't want her to aim the weapon at the Sheriff just to rescue him. He probably thought that she wouldn't be able to succeed in saving him. How typical of him to underestimate her like that! She hid the gun behind her again and pulled out her wand instead. This time, Draco smiled at her.

"What the hell are you smiling about?" the Deputy said and pushed him to the ground. He placed one booted foot on Draco's back, forcing the air out of him.

Draco coughed, dirt and dust filling his lungs. His hat was knocked off his head, and he felt the tip of the Deputy's rifle on the back of his head.

The door to the bank opened, and a man came running down the steps just as Hermione raised her wand, ready to blast everyone out of her way.

The man ran towards the Sheriff. "Sheriff!" the man shouted. "Bank robbers!"

"What are you blabbering about, Josiah?" the Sheriff asked.

Josiah was out of breath, and he clung to the horse. "That man!" he said, motioning towards the dead man with gold coins tinted in blood and paper money stuck to his stiffening body. "That one came into the bank and demanded money! He shot poor Mrs. Simmons!"

The Sheriff still didn't lower his shotgun. "And this man?" he asked, his weapon pointed towards Draco, who was face down on the ground, struggling to breathe. "He was in on it, wasn't he?"

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She stepped forward, her wand at her side, the hand holding the pistol still behind her back. "Please! He had nothing to do with this!

The Sheriff looked down from his horse at her. "Who are you?"

Hermione thought quickly. "My name is Jane, and this is my husband, Drac...Drake Mallory. Please! We are just passing through this town! He doesn't know these men; you've got to believe me!"

"Where are you from? You have a strange accent."

Hermione had forgotten about that. "We're from England. We are just visiting. We were on a stagecoach that was robbed by these two men. They killed the driver, left us for dead and stole the horses, not to mention all of our money."

Draco managed to turn his head and look at her. He was amazed at her courage and the fact that she could make up a lie like that on the spot.

"If you don't believe me, just follow that road and see for yourself! The stagecoach is there, over turned, and all of our things are scattered about." She glared at him defiantly. "I'm telling you that he had nothing to do with this robbery."

The Sheriff studied Hermione. He thought himself a good judge of character, and he immediately liked this girl for some reason. Not taking his eyes from her, he addressed his Deputy. "Let him up, Starks."

Starks looked disappointed that he wasn't going to be killing anyone. "On your feet, boy!" he said gruffly, lifting Draco up by the back of his overcoat.

"Speak, boy! Tell me what happened," the Sheriff said, dropping his weapon.

Draco brushed the dirt from his clothes, picked up his hat and placed it gently on his head. "First off, stop calling me 'boy', I'm a grown man. Secondly, tell your man, Starks, here to lower his gun."

The Sheriff nodded to Starks, and he slung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Draco said. "It's like my wife said; our stagecoach was over taken by these jackasses. We were left defenseless and walked all the way to town. Jane went to the General Store over there to buy provisions with what little money we managed to hide from them." Draco tilted back his hat. "I was crossing the road when these two rode by on the stolen horses, talking about robbing the bank. Of course, I recognized them, and being curious and maybe a tad bit stupid, I decided to follow them."

"Why didn't you high tail it to the jail and tell me what you overheard?" the Sheriff asked.

Draco frowned and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I didn't think about that."

"He rarely thinks before acting," Hermione said angrily. "Gets us into a fair amount of trouble it does."

The Sheriff smiled knowingly at Hermione. "And then what happened, Mr. Mallory?"

"I hid beside the bank. There were gun shots, and this guy here," he pointed to Jake, "went towards the door, and I tackled him to the ground and got his gun away from him."

"And then what?"

"Well, the man that went into the bank came out, and I don't know, I just panicked, and I shot the bastard."

The Sheriff smirked at Draco, liking his use of profanity. He thought all English men were pansies, who drank tea from tiny china cups and cultivated rose gardens.

"And then this asshole tried to grab my leg, and I blew his bloody head off! End of story!"

"This man is a hero, Sheriff!" the banker said, taking a step towards Draco and extended his hand. "He should be rewarded, not hauled off to jail!" He shook Draco's hand, grinning from ear to ear. "You did a real bang up job on these would-be thieves! You're a real curly wolf, you are!"

"I agree, Josiah," the Sheriff said, dismounting his horse and slapping Draco on the back. "Name it. Anything you want."

Draco looked at Hermione who just shrugged. He glanced at the horses that the two robbers had ridden into town on. "I want the horses."

The sheriff and Deputy Starks were both taken aback by the request. They watched Draco as he walked over to the strawberry roan and stroked its mane. This man could have any reward he wanted and had decided to ask for horses?

"Very well," the Sheriff said, looking at Draco like he was crazy.

"Are you sure you don't want money?"

"I'm sure. Just these horses will do."

The Sheriff gave in and ordered the Deputy to take care of the dead bodies and then rode away, shaking his head and muttering about crazy foreigners.

Hermione walked over to the other horse, a chestnut gelding, and led it over to Draco by the bridle. "You are so lucky. That could have turned out very badly."

"But it didn't! And now we have transportation." He put his foot in the stirrup and swung himself onto the horse. He picked up the reigns and turned the horse like an expert.

Hermione thought about how damn handsome he looked, sitting on that horse in his cowboy clothes. "This time period suits you," she said. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here for the rest of our lives?"

"Tempting," he said, as if considering the very idea. "It would solve a lot of our problems; the main one being telling my father about us."

Hermione laughed, and so did he as she struggled to get on her horse.

"Need help?"

"No."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't. I've ridden plenty of times! I know what I'm doing!"

Draco smirked at her, loving how she hated to admit she couldn't do something. After many attempts and much laughter from people passing on the street, she finally succeeded in mounting the animal. "Did you get the supplies from the store?" he asked.

Hermione smacked herself in the forehead. "I dropped them when I heard the gunshots. The supplies are probably still where I left them."

They headed towards the store. Draco picked up their goods that rested on the ground and then put everything in the saddlebags because Hermione didn't want to get off the horse for fear she wouldn't be able to get back on. He made fun of her the entire time, and finally she snapped.

"Shut up, Malfoy! I may not be able to get onto a horse, but I bet I can ride better than you!"

Draco bent over in laughter. "You're not serious, Granger! I've been around horses all my life. I've raced them, jumped them and bred them."

"As they say in the Old West, 'I don't give a continental' if you've raced them, bred them or even had sex with them... I'm telling you, I can ride better." Hermione sat there, side-saddle with her back straight, looking like a lady. "I'll race you."

Draco stopped laughing and cocked his eyebrow. "You're on." He leaped onto his horse, squeezed the horse's side with his legs, clicked his tongue, and then he took off with lightning speed and a loud, "Yeeeeehaaawww!"

Hermione watched him tear-ass down the road with a big grin on her face. She trotted around the bend and then gripped the horse tightly around its neck. She closed her eyes, concentrated and then disappeared into thin air, along with the animal.

Draco was riding like the wind, he felt so free... like he was going to win! Too bad ahead in the distance on the side of the road was Hermione, sitting side-saddle on her horse, waving happily at him. "What the fuck?" he said. He slowed his animal down and pulled up beside her.

"What took you so long, Malfoy?" she asked sweetly.

His horse was foaming at the mouth, and so was he. "You are a cheating bitch!" He shouted. "There is no way you rode past me without me seeing you! What did you do? Apparate?"

Hermione really didn't expect him to react so angrily. "Oh, calm down! It was just a stupid race!"

"A stupid race that you knew you couldn't win, and so you cheated! You... you cheater!"

"Wonderful insult, Draco," she said sarcastically. "I'm beginning to think you're slipping," she laughed. "Cheater? Is that the best you can do?"

"If you weren't a woman, I'd kick your ass, Granger!"

"If I wasn't a woman, I'd kick YOUR ass, Draco... and win!"

Draco clenched his teeth together so hard that his jaw was cramping and the tendons in his neck stood out like cords. This woman was impossible! She was a total pain in the ass, a...

Hermione saw him struggling to keep from exploding. For some odd reason, it was turning her on. "You look so damn sexy when you're angry," she said in a low sensual voice. "Face all flushed, eyes swirling like smoke drifting from a wildfire, hard muscles rippling beneath that clinging shirt, that hat cocked back on your pale head... makes me want to rip your clothes off right now and ride you hard like you rode that horse."

Draco's angry tirade in his mind quickly vanished and was replaced by disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "I'm too upset with you right now to even think about grabbing you from that horse, ripping your tight bodice open and sucking your stiff nipples while my hands explore your silky pussy under your pantalettes!"

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes and then burst out laughing. "Pantalettes?" she said. "Since when did you know so much about ladies' undergarments in the 1800's?" She was laughing so hard that she almost fell off her horse.

"Hey! Be careful!" Draco said, reaching out for her just in the nick of time. "I don't need you to fall and break your neck!" She was now suffering from a loud case of hiccups along with her hysterical giggles. Draco couldn't help but chuckle along with her; it was contagious.

"I can just imagine you! Sitting in on a haystack in the stable, leafing through a catalogue with pictures of petticoats and stays!" She hiccupped so loudly that the horse jumped. "That's what you did, isn't it?" She pretended to look through a magazine. "Oh! Look at that woman's bosom in that tight, tight corset!" I bet you had many lurid fantasies about taking a sharp knife, cutting the rib-crunching clothing from her body and ravishing her while the horses look on!"

"Hey!" he laughed. "This one time my mother came in while I was, um... in the midst of pretending to ravish a saloon girl and caught me with my cock in my hand!"

Hermione totally lost it. She could barely breathe, and tears of mirth were streaming down her face. "Nah uh! What did she do?"

"She helped me finish of course," Draco said in a hard, serious voice.

Hermione's head snapped up and she abruptly stopped laughing. Wiping her eyes with the back of one white-gloved hand, she cleared her throat. "You... she... you're not serious, are you?" she asked, disgusted and embarrassed. Maybe Pureblood families frequently practiced incest. What if when she married Draco, she would be expected to have sex with Lucius? The bile rose up in her throat just thinking about it.

Draco's eyes glinted mischievously. "I'm telling you the truth, Hermione. My mother and I have done things to one another and to our horses that would make a whore blush." He grinned at her, loving how uncomfortable she was, how shocked she looked. "Sometimes my aunts, uncles and cousins will come over, and we will all screw each other. We'll take turns sucking, licking and fucking one another until daybreak." Draco leaned forward, a sexy smirk on his lips. "I've learned a lot from Mother's instructions, not to mention the many things my dear father has taught me, such as, how to properly suck a cock..."

"What! I don't want to hear anymore!" she shouted. "You are disgusting! Your entire family are sick perverts, and if you think I want anything to do with your incestuous inbreeding program, you're absolutely out of your fucking mind!"

It was Draco's turn to break into hysterical laughter.

"Why? How dare you joke about something like that?" Hermione shouted, shaking with anger. "You had me thinking that I'm about to marry into a twisted, fornicating version of the Brady Bunch!"

"How could you honestly think that my family would ever do something like that?" he asked in all seriousness. "And who the bloody hell is the Brady Bunch?"

Hermione sighed, "Actually, quite a few people think that's exactly the kind of thing that goes on in Pureblood families."

"What?" Draco said, shocked. "Blood Profiling?" He frowned. "And they accuse us of being racist and judgmental! Like we Purebloods would have babies with our mothers and father. That's just disturbing!"

"Draco, incest happens in every country, every culture, no matter what kind of blood you have." Hermione shifted on her horse; her ass was getting numb. "So, what have we learned here today from our discussion of this taboo subject?"

"That whether you're a Pureblood, a Muggle or a Mudblood... er Muggle-born." He looked at her apologetically. "We are all the same: fucked up."

"Right-o!" Hermione said. "And now, can we set up camp? I can't feel my arse anymore!"

***

They found the spot where they expected the clock to appear and built a small fire. Hermione opened up the bed rolls and laid them out. All they had to eat were strips of venison jerky and a few apples that she had bought at the General Store. Luckily, they could produce water from their wands with the Aguamenti Charm and not die of thirst. They gave the horses some water and then let them graze not too far from where they set up camp.

After eating their meager meal, they sat next to the dying fire. As Draco's back rested on a log, Hermione was lying on her bed roll with her head in his lap. The sun was beginning to set, and it was very peaceful. The only sounds that were heard were the crackling of the flames and the distant cries of a coyote.

"Draco?" Hermione said, staring up at the cloudless, darkening sky. "What's your favorite color?"

"My what?" he asked, amused. He was twirling a piece of her hair around his finger, loving the soft texture.

"Do you realize that we know next to nothing about each other? How strange is that?" She looked up at him, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face.

"You're wrong. I might not know if you prefer winter or summer, or what your favorite vegetable is, but what I do know is more important." He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I know that you drool when you sleep. I know you bite your fingernails when you're stressed. I know how you liked to be kissed, to be touched, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love you."

Hermione lifted her head, and as their lips met, she thought about how wrong she had been – how wrong they had all been about him. He was gentle and caring, and such a romantic and loving soul, nothing like they believed him to be all these years. She was the luckiest woman on the face of the earth to have the love of this man.

He deepened the kiss as she opened his shirt and slipped it off; her hands running up and down his chest caused him to shiver at the feel of her touch. He moaned as she unfastened his pants and slid a hand inside. Her stroking and squeezing were driving him to the brink of insanity, and he was about to explode when he felt her remove her hand.

Hermione sat up and pulled his boots off one at a time, tossing them over her shoulder so they landed in the bushes by the side of the road. She winked at him saucily as she tugged his pants off, exposing his naked flesh to the cool, night air. "No! Leave it on," she said as he was about to take his hat off. "I want to make love to you while you're wearing nothing but that hat."

He smirked at her and put it back on his head. She knelt over him and captured his mouth in a sensual, passionate kiss. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he felt her hot lips and tongue make their way down his body until she came to his weeping, erect cock.

Hermione licked the tip and then blew on it gently, causing him to groan with pleasure. He grabbed her hair and wrapped it around his fingers, pulling hard. She loved the sensation that walked a fine line between pleasure and pain. She snaked her tongue up and down his stiff cock, loving the way he tasted.

"Fuck!" he said, suddenly pulling her head away, trying to sit up.

Hermione was momentarily confused. "What? What's wrong?" She watched him scramble to his feet and run towards the saddlebags.

"The fucking clock!" He pointed to a spot behind her, closer to the road.

Hermione turned her head and saw bright lightning bolts zigzagging through the darkness. She jumped up quickly. "Where's the gun? What did you do with the gun?"

Draco was rummaging through the bags, frantically searching for the weapon, as the clock materialized and struck one. "Come on! Where the fuck did I put it!"

Hermione ran over and helped him, throwing small pots and other supplies everywhere. It struck two, and her heart began hammering in her chest. "We need to find it! Think! Where did you put it?"

"If I fucking knew where I put it, Granger, I wouldn't be fucking looking for it now, would I?" His voice was very high-pitched and bordering on panic. The clock struck three and then four, and still they couldn't locate it. It was so damn dark now that they could not see anything that wasn't right by the fire.

Five... six. "What are we going to do?" Hermione asked. "I really don't want to wait to do this! I don't think I can take another time trip! I can't!" She began sobbing, making Draco furious. Seven... eight... nine.

"Just stop your damn crying and help me!" he shouted, searching by the bushes where the horses were. "Found it!" He pulled the pistol out from under his discarded boot. The clock struck ten, Draco aimed directly at the glass that encased the pendulum and fired.

Hermione screamed as the glass shattered, sending splinters flying through the air. The bullet hit the pendulum and ricocheted. Then, much to their amazement, it started to swing.

They looked at each other incredulously. Draco grabbed her by the wrist and he ran with her, almost pulling her arm out of socket. They made it inside just as the clock struck twelve.

They were both breathing heavily, clinging to one another as the clock whirled loudly and then came to a shuddering stop.

Draco took Hermione's hand and said, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, and he opened the secret door, and then they stepped out. Right away, they knew they were back at Hogwarts. Filch was still sleeping on the stairs, and everything looked the same as when they had left, except for the three shocked people standing in front of the clock.

"Malfoy?" Harry said with wide eyes.

"Hermione?" Ron screeched. His eyes traveled to their interlocked hands. "What are you doing holding hands with Malfoy?"

"I think the better question is," Ginny said, "why is Malfoy wearing nothing but a cowboy hat?"