She jumped.
Malfoy didn't think - he jumped over the banister after her.
He reached for his wand as rain and wind whipped past his face.
"Arresto Momentum!"
Time itself seemed to slow when he heard the soft thud of Hermione hitting the ground. His breath caught in his throat. Had he been too late?
He impatiently waved away the spell when he was close enough to jump without breaking his legs and ran to the silhouette of the Gryffindor. He breathed a sigh of relief to see signs of life, her chest lifting and falling slowly. Her dress was torn and there were a few scratches to her porcelain cheeks but she was alive.
Draco gently picked up her unconscious form off the ground. Her dress stuck to her like a second skin and the water glistened on the valley of her breasts, but he firmly pushed any thoughts away. She was unconscious, now was definitely not the time.
He jogged back to the castle and managed to breach the main entrance. Was there really no one guarding the door? Where were the Aurors?
Just as the portraits had when he and Granger left for the ball, their eyes followed with curiosity and alarm as he made his way back to their dormitory. He could only imagine the sight: he, an ex-Deatheater, carrying a pale unconscious war heroine through the corridors.
"Lemon pops," he spit out, and quickly ducked into their common room.
He wasn't really thinking when he carried her to his room - the common room or her bedroom would seem more logical - and laid her carefully on the bed. "Exaresco," he murmured, waving his wand at Granger and himself.
Her lips that had begun to turn a light blue were slowly changing back to a rosy pink when he dried themselves with the Hot Air Charm. When he looked down at her face, he realized why he had unconsciously chose not to bring her to the infirmary: the black shadows under her eyes.
The shadows were a familiar side-effect Draco knew to one of the Unforgiveables: the Imperius Curse. A curse he had seen performed many times during the war at Malfoy Manor. His Aunt Bellatrix enjoyed gloating to her imperiused victims what atrocious actions they had done under her spell before killing them. The shadows always appeared the second the curse was lifted.
It was the only logical explanation he could think of on why Granger would jump off the Astronomy Tower and have such a blank expression before doing so. Draco hadn't noticed anyone else on the tower, but hadn't looked around for very long before she had declared she was going to fly.
He bit back a groan when she shifted to her side on the bed, now seeming to be asleep rather than unconscious. The appealing slit in her dress had pulled away more so revealing a section of her bum, the green lace of her knickers just visible.
Draco cleared his dry throat as he felt a twitch in his trousers. He couldn't be thinking this way, especially not of a Muggleborn. Befriending part of the golden trio was a way to redeem his family name, but it was something different to feel more...
Before his imagination could go awry, he pointed his wand at his dresser. "Accio."
A white top and black silky pajama bottoms flew to his arms, neatly folded. He took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with," he murmured.
He was a gentleman of course, even if his thoughts betrayed him when he gently pulled the shirt over her head and dress. Draco was relieved it reached her mid-thigh so he could wave away her ripped dress with his wand without violating the woman further while unconscious. He already felt like a bellend with his intruding thoughts.
He grimaced while his fingers lightly grazed over the scar on Granger's forearm when pulling her arm through the sleeves of his shirt. He had been the unwilling assailant and victim of this curse many times.
After quickly placing her legs properly in the pajama bottoms and lifting the material to cover her bum, his mind thought back to her jumping off the bloody tower.
To say he was surprised she could be influenced so strongly by the imperius curse was an understatement. Only the weakest or shallowest of minds could be bended unless done so by a powerful wizard such as the Dark Lord. But if she had had some of the punch... her mind would have been more amenable...
But this didn't seem right either. He had given her a glass of water and from the few times he glanced over while dancing with Luna, she had consumed nothing else unless...
His eyebrows furrowed together. A simple spell could have done the trick. Did Blaise spike her drink? Draco remembered seeing him take a drink of her water because of the charming scowl that graced her face when he had done so. But for him to have cursed her and influenced Granger to jump off the astronomy tower didn't make sense. What was there for Blaise to gain from this?
He had been in a foul mood with Blaise all night due to the innuendos he had been muttering all night under his breath.
"I wouldn't mind if I'd Slytherin to her Chambers."
"Would she moan for me like Myrtle?"
"Maybe she'll let me visit her Restricted Section."
Draco knew he was taking a piss, as best mates do, but it didn't mean he wanted to hear Blaise fantasize about shagging the witch. He had also been doing his best to not think of her in this way.
He couldn't have these thoughts. Their differences in blood status forbade it.
Pulling the green comforter over her body, he stared far too long at her face. Her bottom lip had jutted out in her sleep and only reminded him of the strange urge he had when walking with her to the ball. He angerly pushed this aside, perhaps Draco needed to distance himself further. He threw his own shirt carelessly into a chair and changed into his pajama bottoms before he started towards the door, but a whimper stopped him in his tracks.
Granger had curled into a ball, her body shaking like a leaf and her lips trembling.
He shook his head. It was a nightmare, one that would pass without his assistance, but as he turned the handle, a soft cry of "please" was heard.
Draco looked back. She was still asleep, but whimpering softly. He sighed and cautiously made his way back to Granger. He bit his inner cheek when he laid down next to her and lightly rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her from the dreams.
A quiet sigh escaped Granger's lips, the trembling lessening. She slowly turned towards him, and nuzzled herself into his side; her breath tickling his neck and a small curled fist now on top of his bare chest. There was plenty of time to move away, but not even Merlin would know why he hadn't. He hesitated before running his lithe fingers through her curls and felt her mouth curl into a small smile at his gesture.
His heart was pounding out of his chest, as if sensing the betrayal. This was wrong, this was wrong, this was wrong...
Years of engrained hatred for muggles and muggleborns flooded his mind - the lectures of their impurities staining the wizarding world - but her blood flowed red as the next witch. He would know.
She was anything but impure. Granger was innocent. Brave. Intelligent. Stunning.
There were impulses he wouldn't have dreamed of having, especially with the likes of her. Draco carefully shifted his head and lightly kissed her forehead, earning a gentle sigh against his neck in return.
She was fire and he was ice.
Was there any other excuse to run from her aside from blood status? The Dark Lord was vanquished and his father in Azkaban... but could he risk his reputation?
He snorted quietly to himself. That wasn't the right question to be inquiring. Would Granger... Hermione allow an ex-Death Eater to be more than a friend and damage her reputation.
Their conversations on nightly patrols engaged him, she challenged him. He made her laugh and her amused scowl was impossibly enduring. His mind flashed back to when she had placed her hand on top of his, comforting him after a nightmare in receiving the dark mark. And when they had danced just mere hours ago... the music of her laughter as he twirled her around... their eyes gazing into one another, neither wanting to be the first to look away...
Draco could no longer fight against the conclusion his mind finally dredged: he cared for her, he liked her. Wasn't coming back to school this year all about second chances? Turning over a new leaf? Could he, Draco, be given a chance to hold the "Gryffindor Princess" like this again?
His heart had slowed to a normal pace, as if sensing the comfort he felt in accepting this new fate. There would be obstacles... this path would have winding curves, hurdles to jump; doubt would surely weave itself back into his heart. Draco wouldn't change overnight. The prejudice and darkness had poisoned his mind for eighteen years.
But perhaps with this witch beside him, he could push himself to do better. To be better.
There were many other thoughts to sift through:
Who had imperiused Hermione? Who was trying to kill her?
Would she even accept him? Or was she simply biding her time to graduate from Hogwarts and be rid of him?
Draco pushed these thoughts aside and buried his face into her curls, inhaling the scent of honeydew and mint. He held her close and closed his eyes, having a rare night delving into the darkness without the thoughts of war or dark wizards.
"DRACO MALFOY WHAT -"
Draco jolted from his sleep, annoyed and disoriented from leaving a pleasant dream. He couldn't remember what it was about, but it had given him an unfamiliar feeling of joy.
His blinked a few times, sitting himself up against his headboard with a yawn, and looked over at the witch beside him.
Merlin, she was beautiful... and wearing his clothes. He was pleased his thoughts of change and affection had not been from a drunken stupor, but were in fact genuine.
Hermione looked to be a fish out of water, opening her mouth and closing it, her cheeks a dark rose. Her warm brown eyes glancing over his body..
She was fire and he was ice.
He raised an eyebrow amused. "Isn't it impolite to stare, Hermione?"
Hermione's mouth was agape and he couldn't help but grin, but the dark shadows still present underneath her eyes lessened his smile.
"Did... Did we... We didn't..."
Draco could help but laugh loudly at what she was implying. "My poor ego. I'm hurt you don't remember..."
Her hands went to her mouth in horror, but he rolled his eyes at her theatrics. "No, Hermione, we didn't do anything. Just slept."
She removed her hands from her mouth and silently mouthed the words "oh". Hermione looked down, her expression confused. "How come I'm in... are these yours? How did I -"
Draco quickly raised his hands in defense. "What was the last thing you remember?" He would rather like to skip the details of him changing her clothes.
She shifted to face him more fully and sat cross-legged, chewing her bottom lip. Despite her initial shock of being in his bed, she was still sitting a mere foot away from him.
"You had gone to dance with Luna," she said slowly and he nodded. "And talked to Zabini... I went out of the Great Hall because I saw Padma restraining Lavender from attacking Ron. He was hiding behind Harry..."
He nodded again, Potter had explained this briefly.
Hermione frowned. "I sent three of them to the infirmary... Harry asked if I was okay because I wasn't standing properly... I had found his eyebrows amusing for some reason... he said to not move and went to get Ginny... and then I woke up here!"
Draco mirrored her frown, confirming the possible alcohol and curse purposefully forced upon her.
"We need to talk to McGonagall," he said quietly, folding back the comforter. He stood and stretched, but couldn't help the boy-ish smile when he saw Hermione scanning his body with a blush. "If you wanted to shag, you only need to ask," he said with a wink, causing the Gryffindor to flush to a point even her ears had reddened. He was joking. Mostly.
Hermione looked as if she wanted to retort, but seemed to have thought better about it and also stood. He turned around to find a shirt when he heard an "oomph!". He looked back and saw a bewildered Hermione on the floor, she seemed to have lost her balance.
He couldn't help but laugh at her expression and came closer, tossing his white buttoned shirt on the bed. She scowled up at him.
"I see you're falling for me, Hermione," he teased, offering her a hand.
But really it's me falling for you... and we barely know anything about each other.
Her scowled deepened, but warm brown eyes sparkled and took his hand nonetheless. "Do you tell all girls that line?"
"Hmm..."
He was supposed to be taking it slow, but the adrenaline of his decision last night made it more difficult.
Draco couldn't help but pinch a stubborn strand of her hair between his fingertips and curl it behind her ear, keeping his fingers there longer than necessary. Hermione's lips parted and the innocent wide eyes stared back into his.
"Are you sure nothing happened between us last night?" she asked softly and then cringed as if she hadn't meant to say this aloud.
Yes, but you were unconscious the entire time when I saw your knickers and kissed your forehead, and then came to the conclusion I may fancy you.
He cleared his throat. "Go get dressed, we need to see McGonagall. I'll explain everything then," he finally said, removing his hand.
Ten minutes later, Hermione joined him in the common room, wearing her school robes and hair pulled back into a bun. He wished he could take the accessory away and see her hair cascade like last night.
They merely had to exit the common room and take a few steps to be standing in front of the guarding gargoyles that led to the Headmistress' office.
"Albus," he said quietly, and the two gargoyles nodded, moving aside to reveal the familiar winding staircase.
"How did you know the password?" asked Hermione, breaking the silence.
"While you were changing, I owled Potter and McGonagall."
"You owled Harry?" she asked as she followed him up the stairs.
He glanced back a few times to make sure she had surer footing than earlier. He shouldn't have laughed when she fell - it was a common side-effect of the curse - but her expression had been too much.
He knocked twice when they reached the top of the stairs.
"Enter."
His gaze did not fall on the Headmistress when he stepped further into the room, but at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had his familiar smile as he peered down at them over his spectacles. The old man offered him protection that fateful night... but it had been too late. And so he was surprised to have learned during the Battle of Hogwarts that Snape and he had planned his death much earlier.
He was distracted by his thoughts when another knock from the door was heard and Potter entered. His face was worried but it instantly relaxed when he caught sight of Hermione.
"Hermione," said Potter with a tired smile, stepping forward and giving her a hug. "Thank Merlin you're alright."
Draco bit back his disdain. Yes... this was something that would not change overnight.
"Thank you for the letter," said Potter stiffly.
"If you hadn't left her alone -"
"You did as well, Malfoy, don't even star-"
"Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter, please."
Hermione looked conflicted and confused, deciding to simply sit in the nearest armchair. Potter and Draco's eyes were narrowed, but both went quiet.
"Mr. Malfoy, you requested an urgent meeting with me, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Potter. Let's not waste time with childish banter."
Draco swallowed his retort and glanced at Hermione. The dark shadows under her eyes keeping him grounded in his purpose here.
"Someone tried to kill Hermione last night."
Silence greeted this statement
Hermione's mouth opened in shock, Potter's eyes widened in horror and then narrowed in suspicion, and McGonagall's mouth had set into a thin line.
He recounted back to Potter telling him the incident in the corridor with Lavender and how Hermione had wandered off. When he came to the part of Hermione jumping off the balcony, he heard Potter inhale sharply and his hands ball up into fists. Hermione gasped, riveted and horrified. McGonagall's face seemed to have aged.
"You jumped after me?" clarified Granger, her expression not quite readable.
He stiffly nodded, not knowing what more he could say in present company.
"How do you know it was the Imperius Curse?" argued Potter, his hand going through his hair roughly.
"It was the blank expression and... see the dark shadows under her eyes? It appears after being lifted from the curse. I'm certain -"
"It could've been the spiked punch," interjected Potter. Was brave Potter in denial of the danger? He didn't correct Potter on Draco's suspicions of Blaise.
He scowled. "Do you really think Hermione would be that daft, even under the influence, to stand on a slippery banister on the tallest tower?"
Potter grimaced and Hermione's eyebrows went together. It was her "thinking" expression, one he enjoyed procuring.
"I'm disappointed to find out about the spiked punch, but it seems something much more sinister has happened."
McGonagall stood up, her hands behind her back as she glanced out the window into the grounds of Hogwarts.
"Where were the Aurors?" asked Draco suddenly. "The front doors were unguarded and unlocked. It could've been anyone."
"That would have to do with Miss Brown who is currently at St. Mungos."
"Is she alright?" Hermione asked in alarm.
"It seems her wolfbane potion had been tampered with."
"Could this all be connected?" demanded Potter, his green eyes flashing in anger.
"It seems highly unlikely, but it would be best to not rule anything out." McGonagall turned to Hermione, a look of concern breaking through her usual stern demeanor. "I must insist you do not travel alone Miss Granger. If what Mr. Malfoy says is true, it seems you would be dead if not for his actions."
Potter looked down at the floor and Hermione turned to look at Draco again, her expression puzzled.
"I will insist on Aurors Tinsel and Harold to be stationed at Hogwarts and help with the nightly patrols on the grounds.
Hermione had nodded and bit her bottom lip.
Potter stood, sensing the end of their conversation and Hermione slowly did the same.
McGonagall however glanced at Draco, contemplative. "I am going to insist Mr. Malfoy accompanies you as much as possible - "
"I can protect her just as well," argued Potter, clenching his jaw. Hermione put a calming hand on his shoulder, her eyes worried.
"I am well aware of that Mr. Potter, but Mr. Malfoy has more... knowledge of the Dark Arts and would be more aware of Miss Granger being cursed again."
Knowledge was one word for it.
Potter didn't seem satisfied with this answer, but kept quiet.
--------------------------------------------------
A/N Thank you for reading! Vote/Comment pretty please:)