Things had fallen back into their usual cycle soon enough. While exams had drained the student body as a whole, the Christmas break still managed to serve as a silver lining to the whole ordeal. Their last exam had been on Divination, something that Draco and Hermione both despised with equal distaste, not only was it utterly boring but also completely meaningless. Hermione didn't know why she'd feel the need in her near future to predict her life through supernatural means, it really was ridiculous.
So, when Draco walked into the their head dorm with his eyes half closed and his green tie dangling from his neck, the last thing he expected was his exclusive girlfriend to tackle him into a hug followed by several kisses being pressed to his cheeks and then his lips. With a yelp, Draco's eyes snapped open, all of his earlier tiredness seemed to be swept under the rug as he wrapped his arms around the petite girl who was grinning down at him like there was no tomorrow.
“Granger, I know that you're excited to see me but this is absolutely barbaric.” Draco shifted a little, straightening his stiff back against the stone floor. Hermione was still straddling him, his hands rested on her hip bone while she pressed her palms flat against his chest.
“Oh don't be such a bore,” she rolled her eyes though she didn't let the playful smile slide off her face. “I can't believe exams are over. That I made through my midterm in one piece.” she sighed, without a care in the world that she was on top of Draco right by the main door. Anybody could walk in any moment and catch them then and there. Hermione seemed to be talking to herself now, her hands clasped, “It was maddening! I feel so drained—”
“Are you sure? You're looking quite enthusiastic to me.” he interrupted, grasping her small waist in his hands and steadying her up on her feet, soon followed by himself. He brushed off his school robes and ran a dismissive hand through his hair.
“Are you joking? I am absolutely drained, it feels like my mind is sent into overdrive. I have heaps of stuff right in here and it's driving me crazy,” She pointed a finger at her brain which made Draco chuckle. It was exciting to see this new side of her, rambling and loud. She always came off uptight and boring to everyone, he was glad she was opening up to him in her own unique way.
“—I hope I did my absolute best in this stupid exam, ugh! You know how much I hate Divination.” and she was talking again, just like that. Absent-mindedly, she rested a finger under her chin as if she were in deep thought. “But I do suppose I could score less than usual, I mean this is Divination, my most dreaded subject! Can you imagine— why are you smiling at me?” Hermione was casting a glance down at her boyfriend's body, his grey eyes filled with mirth and utter amusement.
Hermione frowned when he didn't say anything right away. “Just checking what the world has come down to, Hermione Granger actually being relieved at the prospect of examination being over. I don't know about you but that doesn't settle well for me.” he smirked at her, though lazily, Hermione still found it charming.
“I can be absolutely happy at the prospect of our exams ending,” she crossed her arms and stuck her nose high, “But seriously though,” Her expression shifted from a frown to utter seriousness. “What if I don't do well on th—”
“Merlin's hairy rod! Calm down Granger!” He grasped her by the shoulders immediately making her stop rambling. A small smile made its way to his face for no apparent reason. She looked like a child who had been scolded for being to loud at a posh dinner party, Draco vaguely remembered himself making the exact same face when his mother had scolded him for being too naughty at a party she had thrown for all the pureblood families in Britain, he remembered crying himself to sleep while the party carried on in full motion, his mother never came to check up on him.
Burying the memory deep in his heart, he brushed a few curly strands of her hair away from her face, not before twirling the wild but somehow still soft material in between his thumb and index finger. “Calm down,” he repeated, this time more to himself than to her. Draco stuck his forehead next to hers, feeling the sensation of her soft breathing on his skin and the way her eyes bore into his.
“Are you feeling okay?” Hermione was serious now, her earlier enthusiasm had drained away. She leaned forward to kiss his lips softly, merely a brief gesture to show affection, to show her appreciation for him, to show that she cared, that she was here for him.
Draco didn't respond to the kiss, only closed his eyes like a still statue. He hadn't realised when he had been sucked into his past, the revolting memories flashing right before his eyes.
But it had gone as soon as it had come.
“Just a little tired,” True to his words, he yawned, stifling it with a hand to his mouth.
Hermione did see him put in a lot of effort for all his exams though, if not only for this last one. He had been up most of the nights with her as they studied together (occasionally stealing kisses here and there after their little saga the other night) Hermione had taken great notice of the fact that he was determined to prove himself this time, prove that he belonged here and that it wasn't a gruesome mistake to let him back into Hogwarts for his eighth year. Several times, Hermione had given up before him, going to bed earlier than him who didn't ever sleep. Draco's routine was more like studying to his absolute breaking point with the aid of several doses of caffeine, giving the exam in the morning and falling asleep once it was over. The moment he'd come back from the exam room, he'd crash into the comfortable sofa they had in their little living room. He didn't even have the energy to change his uniform, let alone walk to his bedroom. Hermione had often found himself in the same position several times, she had taken up the duty to levitate his body back to his room before taking his shirt off and pulling the blanket over his pale body, well, not before sneaking a bashful look at his appealing torso, of course.
Needless to say, he slept like a baby all day before waking up in the night like an owl, following the same routine until now.
Now, exams were over and Christmas break started from tomorrow.
“You indeed have messed up your routine pretty bad,” Hermione agreed.
Draco wiped a hand down his face, as if he was trying very hard to keep his eyes open. The purple/blue brusises under his eyes indicated his apprehension of little to no sleep.
“Sleep with me?” if he wasn't so tired and his eyes weren't almost closed, Hermione would've blushed a crimson red at those words. They stood outside his bedroom with Draco stretching his hand in her direction. She looked down at his hand and then up at his tired but handsome face.
Soon, Hermione found herself smiling as she placed her hand in his, it fit like a key in its particular lock, almost as if it were made to accommodate his hand. “Yes.”
Still in his uniform, Hermione took the liberty to rid off his tie and then his shirt. Draco fell face first on the soft bed, pulling Hermione down by her wrist, earning a low grunt from her. He absent-mindedly patted her busy mane and put his chin on top of her head, just when Hermione snuggled closer into his body with her back facing his front.
It took him mere minutes to fall asleep, Hermione noted. She turned a little to see his face— so pure and innocent, almost angelic, dare she say it. She pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, wishing to forever cease this moment where she was wrapped in his arms without a care in the world.
She closed her eyes briefly, making a mental note to walk out once Draco had slept.
_________
Draco woke up sometime around 4 in the afternoon, after having slept almost six hours. While he felt genuinely well tested, something made his mood tiresome.
And then, as if thunder had struck, he realised.
I'm famished.
Sliping on a simple white v-neck, he trudged his way towards the door, griping the walls softly as he made his way towards the door.
Strange, Draco wondered, why does my body feel so weak after having slept for so long? His legs visibly shook, not supporting his body weight at all.
And it was only then that Hermione decided to waltz in, beaming at his still somewhat sleepy figure until she took the sight of him before her eyes. He was on all fours, gasping for air to enter his lungs, whatever Hermione had in her hand was thrown away with a loud bang and she was pacing towards his frail body. Draco's head had been bent down so he didn't see Hermione until she was next to him, picking up his body as he continued to wince in agony. His joints hurt and it felt like his skin was pickling, as if it had been whipped for days and days long.
“Draco! What's- what's happening to you?" the witch all but screamed, her heart pounding against her ribcage by now, a light sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Draco only continued to wince rather than saying someing, his eyes closed and his face twisted into a painful expression which pained Hermione even more than when she had walked in on him.
She didn't know if Draco had any disabilities, was this asthma? Arthritis? An anxiety or panic attack? Or something even worse? She had never considered the possibly of him having any of the things she had just thought of, mainly because he had never given anyone a reason to— he had been on the Quidditch team for slytherin back in second year, being seeker meant immensely strong bones and a tremendous respiratory system, that's out the arthritis and asthma out of the way which only led her to believe that this could be a panic or anxiety attack as a result of the Wizarding revolutionary War just a few months ago in May, it was possible that his actions were haunting him now, badly.
"Draco—" she pleaded, her eyes ready to water now, "What happened? How do I help you—" she choked on a sob as she lolled his head into her lap, he was down on the floor now, stomach up, clutching his left forearm in pain, eyes screwed shut. Hermione didn't notice this, her sole focus on his face.
It seemed like hours passed away when she heard him breathe contently, eyes easing up and momentarily fluttering open. She didn't know what else to do expect hope that whatever this was, went away as soon as possible. It was like her brain had refused to cooperate with her actions— stiff and still, nothing at all.
So, Hermione Granger sat there, cradling her boyfriend's head in her lap as he struggled to breathe, to utter a word or move even a mere inch. His lips parted and a single drop of her tear fell on his lips, she had been crying, when, she didn't realise. It took every ounce of his somewhat remaining energy to stretch out a pale hand to her cheek, cupping the wet skin in his sweaty hands. The pain seemed to leave the body slowly at first, then, all at once— he felt it draining from his head, to his chest, down his abdomen and then finally, reaching his feet.
It was like as if it had never happened.
"I'm alright Hermione," he inhaled deeply, Hermione's eyes shot open at the familiar silky voice, she looked up to meet his body sitting right next to her own, a ghost of a frown on his face. It took a moment for Hermione to realise that he was still here, that she hadn't lost him, that he was right next to her, it was slow but gradual. When she finally caught on the fact, she threw her arms around the pale boy, her grip was iron-like, strong and powerful, it was different from all the tiles they had hugged or even touched, it showed want, it showed desire, it showed fear, just like it showed,
Dare he assume,
Love.
“I thought I lost you-” she was shuddering, her body was shaking against his own, even her lips quivered when she put them next to his ear. “I— I've never, ever been more-- scared in my li—”
"I'm right here, I'm right here," he repeated in her ear, this wasn't about him anymore, it was about her. The way her shoulders shook violently when he ran a finger down her spine as an attempt to sooth her, only confirmed how scared she had been moments ago.
"It's alright," he didn't know who he was telling this to, Hermione or himself. Never had he experienced something so violent like that. Sure, he had had his fair share of nightmares and traumatic episodes after the war but nothing had managed to make him absolutely fall to his knees, it had never been this bad.
"Hey, I'm alright, I'm right here," he pushed her soft curls behind her ears as an attempt to sooth her through some form of physical contact, in responses, she let a single tear slide down her cheek before looking at him again right in his slate colored eyes. Hermione took her time to look up at him again properly, she nodded once before touching her fingers to his cheeks and then his lips, as if she was determining that he really was here, right next to her.
"What happ—" but she never got to finish the sentence, Draco had lalressy leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips once, as if relishing the gift of being another life. It was as it a new soul had been breathed into his body. Hermione didn't respond, she was too shocked to do anything properly at the time. All she did, was open her mouth and then close it again, pressing an open mouthed kiss right on his lips, it was an intimate gesture, never had she done something similar to this, kt spoke volumes on how kisses and snogging wasn't the only thing she expected from their exclusive relationship.
No, she expected them to be emotionally vulnerable— to share their feelings through words and gestures, gestures as such which seemed tiny to the public eye but still spoke volumes on their part together, on their mutual binding to each other.
"How do you," she started, Draco wiped his thumbs on either sides of her cheeks, rinsing off any residue of the pain she had felt because of him. "How do you feel?" she croaked, her fingers tangled with his own and he couldn't help but admire how perfect it felt, hand fitting in hand, like it was made for him by the grace of Merlin himself.
"I feel as good as before, actually," he murmured, catching her eye and maneuvering her up on her feet to prove his point. Hermione stood up, refusing to let go of his forearm which she still clutched onto. "I don't know what happened to me, I was waking up moment, walking down to the door and then, the next, I'm on the floor like I'm about to fucking di—”
“Don't finish that," Hermione put her hands on her mouth, though her heartbeat had returned to normal, she didn't quite know if the storm in her heart had subsidized. Why was she feeling this way? She didn't know, not yet, at least. The idea of Draco dying wouldn't have had an impact on her life before, maybe a little considering that she cared too much for people for her own good, but now, the tables had turned, she had found herself to be drawn to the boy who had let the Voldemort's army into the school. Now, however, the concept of Draco dying made her want to scream, it made her want to cry and throw a tantrum, it was odd, she noted on that minute how much they both had come along together, how her feelings for him had changed, how much he had grown to care for him, to cherish him.
To love him.
Hermione let out an inaudible gasp at the thought of her loving someone like him, Draco Malfoy in particular. She quickly buried it at the back of her mind.
"You mean too much to me now." she chose her words, catching the ghost of confusion in his eyes, "I don't think I'd want you to die Draco." she took a tentative step closer to him, breathing in his peppermint scent, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. "Seeing you like that, I-" her chest tightened, "I thought I lost you."
I lost you, was what she said.
I can't imagine losing you now, not after all I feel for you, was what she wanted to tell him.
Seeing someone you love suffer so painfully right in front of your eyes served as a reminder of one's true feelings, what they mean to you and what you feel about them.
The answer was about obvious to Hermione, when she had seen Draco like that on the floor, gasping for air and looking like he was fighting his last battle with the angel of death made Hermione realise how much deeper she felt for Draco than she let on, how much she had grown to feel over the time.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked hesitantly.
Draco pulled her by the hand and made her sit down on the bed, he looked at her and it didn't take long to give in to her, the way she was looking at him, it was impossible to tell her no.
"I'm not very good with words Hermione, you know that." he sighed deeply.
"Try, please." the Gryffindor in her encouraged him, giving a worrisome look.
Draco seemed to be at a loss of words, he didn't know how to tell her something he himself had no idea of. "I don't know what happened to me— but my lungs felt like they were contracting and that— that I-” he looked into her warm eyes, melting little by little but for sure.
“I thought I wouldn't make it." he left out a major details, hoping that she wouldn't pester on it, he was hoping she would give the benefit of the doubt due to his lacking of communicational abilities.
"Do you want me to take you to the hospital wing?" her eyes looked tired, she looked tired. The shock of it had perhaps subsidised, but the aftermath still awaited.
"No, I'm alright." he brushed off. When Hermione didn't look away he sighed and picked up her hand in his. He bent down to kiss the pad of her thumb and then move to her wrist, up the crook of her elbow, relishing her soft and inaudible moans, he reached the blade of her shoulder and then, the sensitive spot at the crook of her neck, up his lips went to the column of her throat, resting briefly on her chin before claiming her lips in a chaste kiss.
"Yes." she looked unconvinced (and also incredibly sexy when she wore a frown, Draco noted) but decided to drop it for the time being. Knowing her, she'd probably conduct a thorough search on it afterwards.
While Hermione seemed calm to him as she laid down on his bed, utterly exhausted from the events of today, he knew he had made he'd worried sick, no amount of apologies could make him feel better for making his witch worry that way, he knew. Draco brushed a few strands of her curly hair from her face as she laid down for some minutes, her body had probably given out for the time being due to the exhaustion.
Whilst his fingers worked to sooth down Hermione's hair, his eyes lingered to the ugly death mark on his inner forearm on the left arm.
He knew this was a warning, he knew that things would get worse, they always did.
No matter how hard he tried, no amount of effort was enough to keep trouble at bay to him.
He hadn't mentioned to Hermione that his ugly death mark had burned to the point of extreme pain, ultimately causing him to fall helplessly on the floor like that. The tattoo had burned and burned, reminding him that he was still not free, and that he was still a slave to his darker side, a mere pawn in the game of darkness and evil, black and white.
He traced the horrendous mark with his fingers, feeling the bile rise up to his throat with every inch of skin he covered.
Next time, it would be much worse, Draco told himself.
He laced his fingers with Hermione's and pulled the sleeve of his shirt down, a pathetic attempt to cover for his actions and intentions in the war.
What scared Draco most was not the lingering threat of chaos, but the fact that this time, he didn't have to think about himself only.
Casting a brief glance back at the sleeping girl's figure, he realises that this time, he had to think about her too.
_______
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