Three-shot? I haven't written FanFiction in a loooong time, so I just wanted to throw this out there for funsies. We'll see where it goes!
My take on the Pre-Sectumsempra scene in HBP. Guess who goes into the bathroom after Malfoy? I'll give you a hint: not Harry.
:) I don't own anything.
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Feeling Faint: Chapter 1
The dull roar of the Great Hall was drowned out by Draco Malfoy's pulse beating in his ears. Trying to appear as normal as possible to avoid drawing attention to himself, he swallowed the hall in long strides, summoning every bit of willpower he possessed to keep from retching as he loosened his necktie with shaking hands.
He eventually reached his destination— the boys bathroom— and lunged his lanky arms forward just in time to catch himself on the edge of the nearest sink as his legs started to buckle under him. He lifted his head and took one look at his sallow, sickly complexion, nose inches from the mirror, and could no longer fight back the sobs that had been building in his core. After a brief moment of fumbling clumsily with the tap, he desperately splashed water on his face in an effort to quell the panic rising within him.
He was crumbling.
He fought to breathe between the sobs and the bubbling nausea, seeing spots amidst his tears, saliva pooling in his mouth, and feeling more and more faint as the seconds passed. Draco had always been prone to fainting. Perhaps that should have been an indicator early on in his life that he was not cut out to serve the Dark Lord…
Draco's most recent bought of self-loathing was cut short, however, when he looked at himself again and realized he was no longer alone. A blurry figure had appeared in the mirror behind him.
He whipped himself around, still needing very much to cling to the sink for support, and his glassy slate eyes connected with a pair that belonged to the person he had least expected to run into in the boys lavatory.
Hermione Granger stood before him. She was still. Her unruly chestnut hair danced around her face, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were screwing into him with that typical Granger-intensity. That damn intensity that he loathed so much. But in that split second when their gazes locked, her eyes suddenly widened with… concern, was it? Whatever it was, it was fleeting, and her body then locked down into what, he presumed, was supposed to be a confident and defensive stance.
"Granger" he sputtered as menacingly as he could manage, his eyes narrowing, "Actually, I reckon you are a hideous enough excuse of a girl to use the boys toilets. But for right now you would be wise to get OU—"
"I am not going anywhere until you tell me why you cursed Katie." she retorted unwaveringly.
He seethed. "I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't TOUCH that —"
He was cut short by her swift advance towards him, wand bared, and inches from his pointed nose. He froze and cursed at himself internally. His wand was just in his pocket, but he was so, so close to being ill that his reflexes to grab it when she had come at him had failed him.
"Answer me, you prat." she said through clenched teeth. Draco breathed heavily through his nostrils, mouth clamped shut, still trying with every fibre of his being not to vomit. "Did you also give that poisoned bottle of oak-matured mead to Slughorn hoping he'd give it to Dumbledore?"
Draco could feel his legs growing weaker and swallowed back acid, "Granger" he growled, "Back off—"
"Answer my question" she demanded. He was deteriorating rapidly. Deciding it would not be prudent to waste any more precious energy trying to get rid of her, he just continued to swallow and breathe, focusing as best he could on the tip of her wand. Apparently, his resolution to remain silent had sent her over the edge, though, and without any more hesitation, she proceed to rip into him with a string of threats and accusations. At this point though, he could no longer hear her. Her voice a mere wash of sound as the thumping in his ears grew more and more deafening.
"If you dare…. Hogsmeade for that… I can't BELIEVE… Katie… You disgust me… Harry… Right about… DISGRACE to… Hogwarts…"
Draco was trying to focus on anything. Anything to keep him conscious enough to not end up in a shaking, retching, crumpled mess at her feet. In a last ditch moment of desperation, he broke eye contact with the tip of her wand and let his eyes flash up to meet hers for a second time.
The following he observed in a matter of seconds as he sank closer and closer to edge unconsciousness.
"I promise you that, Malfoy… cursing… You WILL be…"
He noticed her eyes were a golden brown. (How sickeningly Gryffindor, he thought) and flanked by long eyelashes. Letting his eyes pass over the rest of her face, he realized that he had never seen Granger up close before. He'd always been content to focus on being disgusted with her filthy blood from a distance. But, being in the position he was in right now, his prejudices would have to wait. Fighting to remain coherent, he forced himself to really look at her.
Anything, he repeated in his head, anything to remain conscious.
Her creamy skin was dusted with barely-there freckles and her cheeks had erupted into an even rosier hue than before. Or perhaps he had only noticed the extent of it now due to their sudden proximity. A thin sheen of sweat illuminated her forehead and cheekbones, and, maybe it was his vision going fuzzier, but she appeared to actually glow amidst her anger. Her hair was brown as ever and untame, and it tumbled quite attractively, Draco thought, around her shoulders, quivering as she continued to accost him. He noted that she was actually a rather striking girl. Just as attractive as any girl that he'd shagged in Slytherin, for sure. He let his eyes go to hers once more. He felt his breath catch and his face soften as he allowed himself to dreamily breathe her in for a second, and, for perhaps the first time in his life whilst interacting with Granger, he deliberately chose to pay no mind to the trusty blood-status slurs ricochetting around in the back of his head.
He hadn't been this physically close to even a friend in months. It was then that he half-consciously realized the extent of how much he'd isolated himself... how deprived he'd been since he had been appointed his mission by the Dark Lord. To even be this close to another human felt so good, even if it was Granger. He felt a lusty shiver pass through him, and he didn't even care. Sanity tends to fall to the wayside when you're trying not to keel over in front of someone.
"D-Draco?"
It seemed she had noticed the odd sudden change in his demeanor, because at some point between now and before, she had stopped verbally attacking. Making a mental note to pummel himself later for his illness-driven thoughts, he succumbed to the attack. His voice floating from between her lips was the last thing that he heard before everything went black.
