ACA: Chapter 13, 14

Chapter 13

“In the best relationships, there remain serious pockets of unresolved bitterness.”

~ Anthony Wolf (Author, Psychologist)

Days flew by. Draco and Hermione’s relationship gradually improved. He was still shunned by practically the whole school. He still spent a good part of his time on Fridays trying to scourge whatever things had been stolen, mangled, or torn that week. He still battled the pain each day and he still avoided Blaise like the plague, but he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

He found Granger’s presence soothing. True, their budding friendship was still fragile and both were increasingly puzzled by how easily they accepted it, but Draco was secretly thankful nonetheless.

They developed an unsaid routine. After the day’s toil, they met in the living room in the evenings and finished their homework quietly across the coffee table. They headed down for dinner together, going their own separate ways when the Great Hall came into view. Their friendship was a secret one and they found it more special that way.

They never spoke to each other outside the Head dorms. True, Hermione partnered with him whenever she could and they bickered for the sake of bickering and appearances, but there was no malice in their jibes. Instead, to them, it was nothing more than playful banter.

Draco found himself looking forward to the time he could spend with the Head Girl. Oddly enough, this little fact didn’t seem to bother him as much as he’d thought-or hoped. There was something about her that entranced him. He couldn’t quiet place it-this feeling of calm and comfort and sense of belonging that reeled over him whenever he was with her.

Perhaps it was because he didn’t have to worry about petty things like Slytherin politics or appearances or the fact that he was a hated Malfoy. She knew the truth about him and yet she accepted him for who he was and didn’t judge.  Around her, he could be himself and Draco had for so long worn one mask or another that he was quiet glad to discard the false façade and give in.

He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was completely open or emotional, but he did allow her glimpses of him that not even his parents knew. Like the fact that he read muggle books, stashed at the very bottom of his trunk where not even the house elves could find them. Or that he had a fetish for hats and coats. He never wore them at school of course, but he had a hat or two handy for any weather back home. It drove his mother insane, he said. His father never gave it too much thought as long he looked presentable, which really wasn’t hard.

Hermione didn’t say so, but she found his quirks endearing. It made him so much more human and she found she could relate surprisingly easily to him. He was a good listener, something she never would have suspected, but perhaps growing up more an adult than a child, he had learned to read his peers for approval. He certainly read her like a book, which was disturbing at first, but the more time she spent with him, the more she appreciated his attentiveness.

He knew what to say when she felt overwhelmed and craved a distraction; knew to steer clear when she was agitated; knew how to play with words just enough to make her laugh; He was charming, she decided, because he never tried to outdo himself around her.

**

“Hermione, come to Gryffindor Tower with us?” Harry asked softly as they got up from a Sunday breakfast.

“Oh, I was planning to head to the library actually-“

“You never hang out with us,” Ron pouted and Hermione was surprised to see his hurt expression.

Harry looked at her pleadingly from behind his best friend and Hermione gave in with a smile.

“Oh good, but you’re not going to do any homework and Merlin, no more head duties!” Ron said before going on to describe their delightful Sunday plans. Hermione and Harry shared a knowing look and let Ron prattle on. He may not have realized it yet, but they both knew that Ron was dangerously close to falling in love with Hermione Granger, if he hadn’t already.

She had come to realize as early as third year that she harbored certain feelings for the red head. True, his temper and thoughtlessness sometimes aggravated her, but he had a good heart and was brave, despite what others said…and naive. She wondered how long more it would take him to ask her out. It wasn’t as though they were getting any younger, but…Hermione was patient. She would wait.

They had a grand old time in the less than crowded Common Room. Hermione hadn’t been there much and found she missed the familiar Tower. All through morning and a good part of the afternoon, they lazed around, playing Exploding Snap, Wizard’s chess, experimenting with the Weasley twin’s latest inventions, and chattering loudly.

Hermione felt relaxed and content after letting go, but come evening, her duties began pressing on her and she managed to excuse herself. Ron and Harry, she knew, were going to take a long break well into the night before even thinking about their homework and, as much as she loathed to see them waste precious time, she knew she was in no position to Mother them anymore.

So with a hearty good-night, she rushed off to her dorm to get her things. The common room was empty. She wondered if her dorm mate was already asleep, wishing she could catch him just once. She hadn’t talked with or seen him all day and, for some reason, she longed to share just one word.

What are you thinking Hermione? she chastised herself, He needs his peace of mind and you need to study!

So thinking, she grabbed her book bag, overflowing with heavy textbooks, and heaved it out the door. Once at the library, Hermione had no trouble locating a quiet table. Most students had either left to catch a bit of weekend sunshine before the sunset or off for an early dinner. She was about to set her bag down on the table she frequented most often, when she spotted a familiar shock of blonde hair.

She saw he was bent over a book, poised quill steadily dripping ink on his half filled parchment, his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Eyes closed, he seemed intent on fighting whatever demon was plaguing him.

“Draco?” she softly called standing across the table. His head snapped up and he squinted at her for a second as though trying to make out her features.

“Granger?”

“Yeah…are you alright?” she asked, unable to hide her concern.

“Just peachy,” he mumbled and promptly changed the subject. “Came to study?”

“Just a bit of head start-mind if I sit here?”

He answered by pulling the nearest chair out for her, moving his textbook to make room as she took the seat next to him.

“What are you working on?” she asked as she pulled out her notes.

“Potions. I’m a whole two essays behind,” he sighed, “And I still haven’t started on the Transfigurations stuff-have you finished?”

She nodded, feeling suddenly sorry for him. “I could help you if you want. I have my things with me.”

She pulled out her essay when he didn’t answer and slid it in front of him. He stared at the completed homework, wanting nothing more than to copy and then crawl into bed, but he knew it wouldn’t help him in the long run.

“Thanks,” he breathed, folding the parchment up again, “but I think I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure?”she was  surprised that he’d turned such an offer down.

“Yeah, I need to understand this anyways.”

She smiled. “Well, if you need help, I’m here.”

He gave her a grateful nod and they lapsed into silence, both absorbed in their own work.

Hermione stole a glance at him from the corner of her eyes from time to time. She couldn’t help it. He was just so…different.

He sat with elbows propped on the desk, back straight and eyebrows scrunched in obvious concentration. She had never known he was so diligent in his studies. Maybe, if he really did work this hard, he deserved the Head Boy post-despite his mistakes in the past.

She chewed her quill thoughtfully and was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize she had been staring till Draco’s grey eyes caught hers, throwing her a questioning glance.

“Something wrong?” he asked, frowning slightly.

Hermione had the decency to blush. “Oh, no-nothing!” she stuttered, “I just…spaced out.”

He nodded and sighed. “Yeah, I find I do that a lot these days.” He dropped his gaze, but not before she caught the exhaustion in them.

“Draco, are you sure don’t need my help?”

He shook his head, blonde bangs swaying slightly. “Thanks Granger, but it’s alright, I’m almost done.”

Which meant he still had three more to go. She nodded, wishing he weren’t so stubborn, and they lapsed back into silence.  Hermione lost herself in the text-fascinated by the new Transfigurations topic they would be learning next.

She had always admired this particular branch. It was certainly difficult and having the strictest teacher didn’t help make the material any easier, but she revered the subject because it was challenging. In that regard, Hermione had never had much interest in things she could readily do.

Time ticked as they worked away and at long last, Hermione raised her stiff neck, wincing at the crick. She made to stretch languidly and couldn’t help but smile when eyes fell on her companion. He was dead to the world.

Quill still poised in a loose grip, Draco had fallen asleep on his half done essay. She noticed it was his third one and sighed, thankful he had managed to catch up. She checked the time: only twenty minutes till the library closed.

There was no one in their vicinity, most students having disappeared back to the dorms, and those few she could make out were either dosing, or too buried in their books to notice. Deciding she’d studied enough for once, Hermione packed her bag before leaning over to gently shake Draco’s shoulder.

“Draco,” she softly called, “Wake up.”

He stirred only moments later and blinked at her groggily. “Wha-?” he mumbled, covering his mouth when a yawn stifled him.

“Library’s closing-we better head back,” she replied, fighting down a smile. He looked adorable, hair ruffled and the smooth creases in his face relaxed. His right cheek was slightly flushed where he had lain on it on his arm.

Hermione helped him gather his things and he dumped them unceremoniously in his bag, only taking care to roll his homework before slipping it in. He walked stiffly beside her, not awake enough to care that he was walking with the Golden Girl. There was hardly anyone about anyways-it was past curfew.

Hermione said the password and they entered the dorm. Draco headed straight for the couch, dumping his bag on the floor and stretching his limbs like an exhausted panther.

“G’night,” he said, through half closed, a thin smile gracing his features.

She overcame her surprise and stifling a laugh, bade him an affectionate good night back. By the time she reached the stairs, he was already asleep.

“Draco Malfoy,” she whispered, glancing back over her shoulder at the unconscious blonde, “You really are more tolerable than you let on and very brave.”

She disappeared into her room only to return minutes later to cover him with a blanket.

**

I should not have slept here, Draco bitterly thought as he tried to sit up on the couch. It was still quiet dark out, although the rosy hue of dawn was just making itself visible over the horizon. Draco had been asleep for all of five hours before the throbbing in his limbs jarred him awake.

He tried to fight it off now as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, panting with the effort. Merlin, he was tired! His shoulders sagged and he slumped against the cushions, closing his eyes to stop the vertigo. He felt sick.

They can’t expect me to keep going like this, he thought. Hogwarts was no place for invalids. It was a school and how was he supposed to play the role of a student when he could barely stay on his feet?

He groaned when his stomach suddenly churned and forced himself to swallow the bile that rose up his throat. He hadn’t been eating too well, unsurprisingly enough, and the side-effects of the pain potions didn’t add to his comfort.

Snape had told him yesterday after dinner to come and pick up the new potions. He said they would be ready by this morning. Draco wanted nothing more than to chug all of it down and fall into a dreamless sleep, but right now, he had to get to the bathroom before he painted his clothes and the carpet in vomit.

Shoving aside the blanket he didn’t remember crawling under, Draco rose unsteadily to his feet and stumbled like a man in the dark towards the staircase. He leaned heavily on the banister as he made his way up and had to crawl on his hands and knees when his legs gave way.

Come on Draco, almost there, he thought as he stopped to catch his breath. He could feel the perspiration running down his forehead and his vision became hazy as though in a fog. He squinted, trying to focus his eyes, but his head gave a vicious throb, and he curled up on the carpet with a moan instead.

God, I feel so pathetic! he thought and shivered. His hands clutched his head, which was throbbing increasingly, and he vaguely wondered if he should call for help.

You’re not going to die from this, he bitterly reminded himself, You still have ten years…

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing the blinding light to go away. He wished whoever was moaning would stop and leave him alone. All he wanted to do was sleep…sleep, maybe forever.

**

Hermione woke up with a start. Something had pricked her unconscious. She sat still in the darkness, until the soft sound reached her again. Thinking and hoping that Crookshanks was back, she slipped into her fuzzy slippers and scrambled to her door.

When she peaked out ready to greet her cat, the sight of her roommate startled her.

“Draco!” she cried falling to her knees by his side.

He moaned as though in pain and if he heard her, he didn’t respond.

“Draco, are you alright?” she pressed, realizing that he was perspiring, in obvious pain, and far from alright.

She cautiously brushed back his damp bangs and felt his forehead. He was burning. Hermione bit her lip, wondering what to do. She knew she had to get help, but she couldn’t leave him alone.

Thinking she could try keeping him warm first, Hermione shook his shoulder, trying to get him to wake.

“Draco? Draco, if you can hear me, please open your eyes!” She knew she was panicking, and tried to keep her voice calm for his sake.

When his eyes slowly opened to reveal cloudy grey moons, she sighed in relief.

“G-Granger?” he bit out through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, we have to get you to bed. You’ve got a fever. Do you think you can stand?”

He didn’t reply, but began to push himself up. Hermione rushed to help, holding his arm and helping him pull himself up slowly. He swayed, grimacing in pain, and let her swing his long arm over her shoulders.

She snaked her other arm around his waist and together, they clumsily made their way to his room. Hermione deposited him on the bed and then flicked the lights on, but he grumbled for her to turn them off again.

“What’s the matter?” she asked when he doubled over, cradling his head in his hands.

“My head,” he gasped, “It’s killing me, Granger!”

“Maybe I should go get someone…Do you think you’ll be alright?”

He nodded, but stopped suddenly with an audible wince. “Professor Snape-can you get him?”

“Yes-Yes, I’ll be right back!” and she hurried out the door.

He could hear her footsteps as she ran downstairs and out the portrait hole. Curling into a ball, he whimpered in pain as his head continued to throb. Merlin! This was worse than a migraine! It felt as though a hundred hippogriffs were plundering him under their claws.

His stomach turned and he groaned. He had to get to the bathroom. Clutching the bedpost, he shakily pushed himself up and willed his trembling limbs to carry his weight. Trying to stave off the dizziness, he somehow managed to stagger beside the toilet and collapsed on the cold floor. He had barely gripped the seat when the meager contents came surging up his throat. He retched, coughing miserably.

His stomach cramped and he clutched it weakly as he wiped his mouth with a shaky hand. He heard footsteps and then Snape was beside him, peering into his face and feeling his forehead.

He handed him a vial and told him to drink. Draco obeyed wordlessly, trying not to choke on the awful taste. He felt suddenly light and the dizziness seemed to ebb away.

“Can you stand?” Snape asked and he weakly nodded. Snape grabbed his arm and helped him up before leading him back to his bed.

He shoved another vial in his hands and ordered him to drink. This one, he explained, was for the fever. Another vial followed. And another. Draco assumed he had taken six before Snape finally told him to rest.

“No need to come to class tomorrow, Draco,” he observed, “I doubt you’ll be in any condition to leave the bed. Madam Pompfrey will be checking on you from time to time.”

Draco croaked that he understood, feeling a wall of weariness descend upon him now that he wasn’t keeling over. Snape gave him one last pointed look before sweeping out the room. Hermione stepped aside to let him pass. She had been waiting in the doorway while Snape helped Draco and once the professor had left, she stepped inside tentatively.

“Draco?” she whispered, wondering if he’d already fallen asleep.

“Granger,” he answered just as quietly, his blond hair forming a strange hallow around his pale features in the dark. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replied, coming closer to the bed. “I would have done just as much for any friend.”

So she considers me a friend, Draco thought, somehow pleased with that knowledge. He regarded her silently as she stood wringing her hands in the hem of her pajamas. He knew she was trying to find the right words to express her sympathy, but Draco really didn’t need it right now-although he appreciated her thoughtfulness.

“Draco-“ she began, but he shook her head.

“Don’t,” he cut in. “This isn’t your fault and there’s nothing you should be sorry for.”

She knew he was right, but she just couldn’t-! There were no words to express what she was feeling. She wanted to-to do something to banish all this anguish! It was killing her to watch him in pain although she didn’t understand why.

“Draco, if you need anything don’t hesitate to call for me,” she said, “and I really mean it. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night, if you’re in pain-or you’re not feeling well, I demand to know, ok?”

He blinked at her sleepily and nodded. She gave him a thin smile before padding out the door, leaving his door open on purpose. Hermione left her’s open from then on as well.

Chapter 14

“There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.”
~Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Draco stared out the window, a bit bored. He had been in bed for the better part of the day-dozing in and out-and now it was evening. He slowly turned on his side and traced the waning light with heavy eyes.

Pompfrey had dropped by every couple hours or so as promised. She had cut back on his pain potions, confirming that last night’s sickness was due to the side effects of the one thing Draco needed the most.

He didn’t know how long more he could stand this pain. Since morning his limbs had began to throb. It was only a dull ache, but every time he moved he was reminded sorely by his protesting muscles.

His head felt heavy, as though he had a lingering flu, and he was so tired that even if he could get up, Draco doubted his legs would support him for long. This was the fifth time he had missed classes, not counting all the days he was unconscious.

How much does that put me behind? he vaguely wondered, sighing as a wave of despondency washed over him.

He let his thoughts spiral down, descending deeper than he usually dared wander. He was being taken care of here at Hogwarts without his asking, but what would happen to him after this year? he wondered. Draco didn’t fancy living with his mother for the rest of his life. As much as he loved her, he knew she needed time alone and that being with him reminded her too much of her husband and sour past.

Maybe they’ll let me stay here, he thought, knowing that it was impossible, but allowing himself to hope anyways. He had no one else to turn to after all.

“Draco?” the soft voice followed by a knock brought him from his thoughts and he glanced over his shoulder to see Granger standing in the doorway, still carrying her bag of books.

“Granger…Classes done for the day?” he asked, rolling onto his back and carefully sitting up against the pillows.

“Yeah,” she smiled, walking in and standing by his bed. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “Better than last night, I suppose.”

Her smile faltered and Draco felt bad for rubbing his misery on her.

“The fever’s gone,” he continued, “And she said I could go to class tomorrow if I feel up to it.”

Her lips twitched again at that and Draco mirrored her smile, thinking he liked how she looked when happy.

“That’s great,” she replied, “I asked the other professors for your homework and they’ve given you extra time to complete it. Professor McGonagall and Professor Vector said you needn’t turn in this week’s homework until your all caught up. Oh, and they said they can arrange tutors if you feel the need.”

He nodded, relieved that at least the professors were willing to be lenient. He watched her as she shuffled in her bag, pulling out assignments and a sheaf of notes.

“You can use my notes to complete them if you like,” she said, handing him the things. “And I can help you if you need it.”

Draco took the parchments with a speechless nod, only catching his voice after the things had been deposited neatly on his side table.

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think I’ll need tutoring, but I won’t mind your help.”

Her smile widened at that. “Well, I’m glad you’re accepting it.”

He smiled back, admiring the way the sunlight highlighted the brown of her eyes. He gestured to his desk chair. “You can sit if you like.”

Her eyebrows suddenly rose and she smiled mischievously as she pulled the chair. “I take it you’ve been bored. What did you do all day?”

He shrugged. “Nothing exciting-just sleeping. The pain potions wore off and Pompfrey cut back the dose so I’ve been more tired than before.” He saw her smile slipping, so he promptly changed the subject. “Why? Are you thinking of keeping me company?”

“If you’d like.”

Draco feigned surprise. “What? You mean you’ve actually got time to sit and talk?”

She laughed. “Alright you, enough teasing and as strange as it sounds, I actually enjoy our conversations-when you’re being civil that is.”

“Oh? Has the Gryffindor queen finally met someone to match her wit? Although if those two are anything to go by, it can’t be that hard to top-“

“Hey! I thought we agreed not to pick on each other’s friends.”

“The agreement was only that I’d stop calling them by their designated names: Potty and Weaselbee. I don’t remember promising anything more-“and when she opened her mouth, he quickly added, “-and anything more is clearly beyond me.”

Hermione frowned. “They’re not that bad you know, and I honestly think you three will get along fine if you gave it a chance.”

Draco raised a pale eyebrow, not bothering to hide his disdain. “Really, Granger, with our history, especially between Weasley and I, I seriously doubt it.”

“But Harry believes you’ve changed-he told me,” she eagerly pressed, remembering their conversation a couple weeks back.

Draco rolled his eyes, guessing all too well that this had something to do with that detention in the dungeons. “Oh please, naive Saint Potter wouldn’t be able to tell a lie if it bit him on the arse-but enough of that. You promise you won’t try to convert me to join your Golden Triumvirate and I’ll promise not to insult them when you’re with me.”

“I’d like it if you didn’t insult them even when I’m not with you.”

“Oh, now that’s going a bit too far-“

“What is it between you anyways?”

Draco blinked at the sudden question. “What-“

“I mean,” she cut in, lost in her own thoughts now, “I admit you were a right prat from the start and I know now that you didn’t like Ron because of what went on between Mr. Weasley and your father, but why hate Harry too? You didn’t even know him until Hogwarts!”

Draco scowled at her, wishing she would just let the past lie, but he had known sooner or later these topics were bound to come up. Granger was too inquisitive for her own good. It was no wonder she got on so well with nosy Potter.

“He refused my friendship when I gave him the chance,” he finally replied, but even as the words escaped him, he could feel their childishness.

Hermione laughed and tried to muffle her giggles when his frown darkened.

“What?” he scoffed, “Potter was a right prat too, you know. I bet Weasley brainwashed him with lies and-“

“Draco,” she managed, “there’s no need to get riled up. I know we were all a bit-“

“Dimwitted-“

“Immature, but it’s all in the past now and I was just simply wondering.”

He nodded and sighed, sinking back onto the pillows, their argument having worn him out. Granger was eyeing him thoughtfully and he prodded her when he couldn’t place her thoughts.

“What other memory lane are you trapezing down, Granger? If it includes me, it can’t be fond.”

She gave him a stern look that he would have found comical if he’d been more relaxed. As it was, the dull pain had taken over his spirits again and he felt himself sinking, all thoughts of being pleasant gone.

“I was actually thinking about how similar you and Harry are,” she replied, wishing he would stop berating himself.

“Similar?” Draco cried, too shocked to register the pain as he bolted off the pillows. “You are insane Granger! If you think-“

“I do actually,” she cut in and spoke quickly to override his interruptions, “You don’t know Harry like I do-“

“You don’t know me that well either,“ he reminded her.

“No, I don’t, but from what I’ve observed, I can safely connect a few things.”

He folded his arms and regarded her coolly, eyebrows arched in obvious arrogance.  “Let’s hear it then,” he prodded in his best I-am-better-than-thou voice.

She smiled at his bravado before ticking off on her slender fingers, “Well, you’re both impulsive, determined, stubborn as mules, utterly impossible to argue with, emotionally closed off-“

“All men are-“

“Not the sensible ones! They know to ask for help when they need it.”

Draco rolled his eyes, biting back the snide comment that trickled to his tongue.

“-competitive, quick tempered, and you both love Quidditch even though I see absolutely no point in that violent game.”

He pursed his lips as she gave him a wide smile and took a deep breath.

“Finished?” he asked and she gave him a satisfied nod.

“For now. Was I on the mark?”

He huffed. “For someone who’s known me for less than three months? Adequate. You forget that Potter has absolutely no sense of humor and gives away his emotions like a free book. It’s too easy to tease him, Granger. An amateur could do it.”

“That just goes to show how manipulative you are and how innocent Harry is.”  She played his game because she sensed he knew she was right. Draco, she noted, always became defensive when someone stood a ledge higher than him.

Draco snorted, failing miserably to picture Harry Potter’s “innocence”. The git always knew more about what went on then he showed.

“Oh yes, St. Potter, the emblem of virtue,” he sneered, wishing everyone would stop comparing him to the Gryffindor. First his father, then the world, and now Granger. Why could he never catch a break from his past?

Hermione wisely kept silent, seeing the shadow that had come over him. Perhaps she had teased too much, but she really couldn’t help comparing him with Harry. They really were more alike than not and they were both great wizards, there was no denying that. If only Draco had received the same guidance Harry had…

“What are you going to do about dinner?” she casually asked, hoping to turn his sour mood.

He only scowled at her. “Seeing as I haven’t been able to leave this godforsaken room for the past sixteen hours? Have it in bed.”

Hermione sighed, knowing she had spoiled the pleasantries for the day. She peeked at him when she knew his scowl was directed safely toward the window and found herself smiling again as she watched.

She didn’t know why, bust just being with him like this made her happy. Perhaps it was because he treated her like he would any other friend, regardless of her gender, or because of the fact that he didn’t give a knut about her reputation.

Sure she had helped defeat the greatest dark wizard of their time and sure she was best friends with Harry Potter, but it didn’t faze him. He was the same as ever-minus the rudeness, although that sometimes made an appearance when his mood turned sour. But he was much more bearable than before and Hermione found she liked this Draco-the one that didn’t sneer all the time, and read muggle books, and was charming and intelligent…

“Draco,” she said when she saw he was relaxed again, “Do you mind if I set another plate?”

He looked at her sullenly. “Don’t tell me you plan to eat with me here.”

“Why? Is that a problem?”

He shrugged, wanting her to stay but unwilling to admit it. “What’ll you tell your body guards when they ask where you’ve run off to?” he bit out instead.

“Harry and Ron,” she emphasized, “will believe me if I tell them I was in the library doing homework. It’s not the first time I’ve skipped a meal.”

“So, is that a yes?” she slowly asked when he remained silent, regarding her with those cool grey eyes.

Draco huffed and turned towards the window, but not before giving her the barest tilt of his head. He hid his smile when he heard her humming downstairs towards the kitchen.

**

“You know you could have just asked the house elves to bring a meal,” Draco said as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yes, but I like to cook,” Hermione replied, licking the sauce off her finger before daintily picking up her half eaten sandwich.

“Nothing to do with elf rights then?” Draco asked, remembering her crusade in their fourth year. He had laughed at her then, but now he found her righteousness admirable, although it was hopeless when it came to house elves.

“I still want to do something about it-but I couldn’t just ignore the kitchen downstairs. We’ve hardly used it. Besides, this isn’t half bad is it?”

Draco swallowed a mouthful, agreeing that it was actually quite delicious, but Granger didn’t really expect him to compliment her now, did she? That would be too nice.

“Acceptable,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “Perfectly adequate.”

She quirked her eyebrows. “Well, thank goodness it agrees with Lord Malfoy’s taste buds. I’d like to see you whip up a meal.”

“Malfoy’s don’t cook,” he automatically replied. Neither do they talk to Mud-Muggles, or eat Muggle made food, or be civil, or…

 “And what it is it that they actually do?”

Draco shrugged. “Nothing common. We have house elves to do all the chores.”

Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice thoughtfully. “Then how did you spend your time at home?”

“Before all this Voldemort shit started? Leisurely. I wasn’t home most of the time. I traveled a lot-went around Europe, to the Americas, down to Spain once or twice.”

“By yourself?”

“No with Blaise mostly,” he sighed then and set down his finished plate. “I can’t believe how much time we wasted in frivolities. It makes me sick…looking back.”

He stared at his hands, his lips pursed in a thin line. He had said too much. She didn’t need to hear this-all about his pathetic thoughts, and wishes, and regrets. Merlin knows she had done more than enough for him already.

“Draco,” her voice cut through his melancholy, “What is it?”

He frowned at the concern in her voice and refused to look at her. Nothing annoyed him as much as genuine sincerity. It was simply too good to be true. Why did she care about him? Who was he to her? Why did she want to help? And why oh why was she so good?

“Granger,” he at last spoke, “I think you should leave.”

She looked at him puzzled. “What?”

He met her eyes and quickly looked away. “Leave,” he whispered.

Hermione set down her plate and rose to her feet. She took one step towards the door and paused when his eyes closed tight. She mentally cursed him and his stubborn pride.

“Draco what is it?” she prodded, knowing he wouldn’t say otherwise.

“Nothing-“

“Liar. Just say it! I won’t bite-“

“Why are you doing this?”

She started. “Doing what?”

He looked at her steadily, his eyes pained. “This-“ he vaguely gestured at his empty plate. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

She sighed. “This again? I told you already: because I want to-“

“But why?” he cried. “Why all of a sudden? I don’t understand. We hated each other Granger-hated! Do you know what that means? And now suddenly…” He took a deep breath and looked away.

Hermione gave him time to calm down. She could see his throat working up and down. It was sometime before he spoke again and his voice was hoarse.

“Look, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I-Damn it Granger! Just what am I to you?”

She started when he rounded on her. His eyes were clouded with frustrated tears.

 “Draco I-“ she began, but suddenly didn’t know what to say. What was he to her?

Certainly she had called him her friend and she knew she would have done just as much for Harry or Ron, but…Why was it that whenever she gazed into Draco’s eyes and saw his pain, her own heart ached?

She looked at him now: at his rumpled clothes, disheveled hair, the bruises under his eyes, his defeated shoulders, his anguished features- and her arms trembled to hold him. She clenched her fists and bit her lip as he waited for her reply. A single tear slid down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away. His cheeks were flushed, whether from humiliation, anger, or frustration she didn’t know, but she couldn’t quell the sudden urge that rose in her to touch him with her cool hands and absorb his heat.

“I don’t know,” she finally whispered.

He simply looked at her as if she’d never spoken, the tears gathering fast in his stormy eyes. He seemed so helpless and vulnerable-

Hermione’s heart thudded madly in her chest as she neared him. Cautiously, as though she were approaching a wounded animal, she sat beside him on the bed. His eyes never broke eye-contact with her’s and he remained still when she slowly raised her arm.

Hermione let the back of her cool hand brush his warm cheek. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, shivering slightly.

“I don’t know why,” Hermione repeated, more to herself than to him. She tried to convince herself that she really didn’t know. She wanted to believe that she cared for him only as a friend as her fingers brushed away his tears. She wanted to believe that she didn’t want to hold him-to feel him-to banish his pain if only for a time.

She tried to convince herself that this was only her caring nature invoking this need to comfort him. But the woman in her disagreed. The woman in her wanted to hold this trembling man in her arms forever-as though her embrace were his safe haven. The woman in her wanted to taste that porcelain skin-to ravish those thin lips…

She leaned forward unconsciously. Her breath ghosted over his parted lips and he trembled violently. Draco felt her soft lips brush his briefly before she drew back. He opened his eyes and saw her watching him, her face mere inches away.

He traced her soft features, noting the curve of her nose and long lashes. Up close, she really was beautiful-doll like even with her small forehead, large brown eyes, and curling strands of hair cushioning her fair face. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly gone dry.

“Granger,” he croaked, but she suddenly shushed him.

Her finger pressed against his lips and he was aware of her eyes as she drank him in the same way that he searched her. When she made no move to drop her arm, he clutched her wrist and slowly pulled her finger away from his lips. She was so soft…He could feel the pulse in her wrist as it went erratic at his touch.

She wants me, he suddenly realized, And I need her…

His eyes dropped to her rosy lips-so full and moist. Tentatively, he leaned forward and paused, his lips a mere centimeter from hers. He looked at her closed eyes and eyebrows tensed with anticipation.

When he was sure she wouldn’t push him away, he pressed his lips to her’s. They parted in welcome and he felt her sigh. Draco closed his eyes and took her deeper, nibbling her lower lip gently. He felt her other arm snake around his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer.

Encouraged, Draco deepened the kiss. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and smiled when she gasped, but didn’t pull away. He released her wrist and her arm immediately wrapped around his shoulders. He let his hand rest on her waist, tilting his head to twirl his tongue around hers.

She moaned then and Draco felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine at that sweet sound. He tasted the roof of her mouth and she hummed. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she bravely ran her own tongue over his teeth, making him gasp. She bit his lip before pulling away to catch her breath.

Both panted unsteadily and looked at each other with new understanding. Draco was the first to find his voice.

“This is crazy,” he whispered and Hermione laughed shortly.

“I know,” she breathlessly replied, “I know, but I can’t help it, Draco! I think I-well, I like you.”

And Draco smiled when her cheeks reddened. He brushed back her hair from her cheek before cradling it in his palm. His thumb traced her swollen lips and she reveled in the feel of his coarse fingers.

“Hermione,” he murmured in a husky voice and she felt her heart stop.  He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, his face buried in the crook of her neck. She heard him inhale deeply, as though her scent soothed him, and murmured her name again.

Slowly, she wrapped her arms about his back and dropped her forehead against his shoulder. Turning her head to the side, she bit his ear and felt him shudder.

Something warm cradled her heart and in that moment, she felt happy enough to die without qualm. Having him in her arms like this was that comforting. She fell back on his bed, pulling him down on top of her.

He nuzzled her neck and murmured something unintelligible, hugging her tightly as his limbs grew heavy. Long after he fell asleep, Hermione lay awake, tracing patterns on his back. She couldn’t stop smiling.