Title: Bad Intentions.
Summary: Sometimes it just takes a lioness's fire to melt the ice around the Snake's heart. But it's a little hard when the Pride is adamant that the snake will always be true to his nature. And worse when the snake pit is demanding her as a sacrifice for leading him astray. As family and social obligations pull them away from each other, Hermione and Draco somehow keep up ending in an a awkward middle area where they don't know who cares more.
Warm cinnamon eyes narrowed in a cat-like manner as Hermione lightly brushed a stray curl behind her ear. The fire flickered happily, casting dancing shadows across her pale skin. Completely focused on her book, she reached over to grab her cup of tea…
And felt the soft fabric of cotton.
Snaking her arm back to herself, her face snapped up to see amused ice blue eyes and a smug smirk.
"If wouldn't take much to do away with you, Granger. Just set you in front of a fire and shove a book in your face and you might as well be good as dead."
Furrowing her eyebrows fiercely, Hermione heatedly asked, "Is that a threat, Malfoy?"
The deep laugh that came from the tall blonde man surprised her, the way he threw back his head caught her completely off guard.
"Really? Like they wouldn't come after me if the Head Girl suddenly turned up missing? What do I look like? A Weasley?" he smirked again.
The off-handed comment got the rise that he wanted as he watched Hermione puffed up in feminine anger.
"They are better people than you could ever hope to ever be!" She gritted out, her eyes narrowed as she stood up in anger. Stepping closer to him, she shoved her index finger into his chest. "And you better keep their names out of your dirty mouth!"
"That's rich, coming from the Filth herself."
Adverting her eyes, Hermione stepped back before huffing irritably, "Say what you want about me. Keep your opinions of my friends to yourself."
Long fingers gripped her lightly on her chin. Lifting her head, he forced her to look at him. Seeing the amusement that danced on his face, tears of frustration clustered around her eyes as he refused to let her go.
"Is this what you want? Well, fine! You made the mudblood cry!" But even her growls sounded weak to her own ears.
Surprising her yet again for the night, Hermione felt Draco's calloused fingers brush the tears off her cheeks as they rolled from her eyes.
"Go and finish your book."
With those last words, he parted from her. With his back turned, he walked up the stairs to his side of the rooms before disappearing from her confused sight.
The next time she saw him, he was haggard looking. The dark circles that encased eyes made his face look even harsher. He had lost weight. The hollows of his cheek was pronounced as well as the constant angry expression he kept on his face.
"Mione, what are you looking at?" Ron looked around randomly in the Great Hall, his eyes completely passing over the object of her musing.
"Nothing…just pondering." She replied, carefully sipping on a glass of pumpkin juice as she quickly adverted her gaze.
"When are you NOT thinking? You need to learn to just…relax," Ron said as he stuffed waffles into his mouth.
"Ron, don't speak when you're eating," Hermione sighed, rubbing her hand against her forehead, "It's very rude."
"Bntmmf" Ron managed to muffle out as he swallowed the rest of his food.
Before he could attempt to clarify his reply, Hermione smiled tightly before shaking her head, "It's ok, Ron. Just eat."
Rolling her eyes as the redhead began gorging himself again, she couldn't help but peer back over at the Slytherin table.
Draco Malfoy's hair was almost stringy looking – the usually shining blonde strands hung lifelessly against his face. He was only managing to mumble replies as Pansy enthusiastically chattered next him.
Looking up at the clock, Hermione bit her lip. She had a free study period right after breakfast – a good hour to start on next week's homework but… She hasn't seen her fellow Head Boy in weeks. Though she did not like what he stood for, she wasn't heartless. Maybe she'll speak to him after when everyone was in class.
Why was she here? He just wants to be left alone!
"Malfoy…?" Her uncertain voice paled against her normally confident tone, pacifying his irritability just by a notch. Her concerned eyes met with his lifeless ones, and once again – Draco felt the weight of the world weigh him down.
"Go away, Mudblood," was all he could tiredly grunt out as he walked through the hall briskly. To his annoyance, instead of doing as he said – she caught up with him.
"I haven't seen you in weeks!" she incredulously stated.
Snorting, he didn't even look at her before snapping, "Sorry, I wasn't aware you were named Narcissa – What did you need, Mother?"
As he was going to increase his pace, he felt her soft fingers clasp tightly on his arm. Turning to face her, Draco's rage was forgotten as she used her other hand to pull him face to face to her.
Blinking slowly, he watched her concern expression as her eyes scanned him with worry. The little furrowing of her eyebrows continued to keep him stupefied as she traced her fingers against his pronounced cheekbones.
"Have you been eating? You need to eat."
He almost didn't even hear her. Her fingers were stilly softly stroking his face, her eyes seared into his with emotions he couldn't even begin to understand.
Catching the end of her sentence, Draco snapped himself out of the trance. Pushing her hand harshly off his face, he almost felt bad as the hurt expression passed over her face briefly. Forcing it down, he sneered, "Don't put your dirty hands on me again, Granger. If you'll excuse me, I need to go jump off the Astronomy tower before your filth contaminates me."
Turning away from her shocked face, Draco gritted his teeth.
'Really, he is such a git – I should just let him starve until he dies. It would do the world some good.'
Hermione grumbled to herself as she found herself outside the Head Boy's door. She carried a tray of food that was composed of what she thought he usually ate – not that she paid attention, of course. Balancing it on her hip, she knocked softly on the oak door.
It's been a week since what she dubbed as "The debacle #100000093". After he disappeared into the corridors, she only saw glimpse of him in class and coming in and out of his room. And it seemed like he was deteriorating more and more each time. Even the ditz Parkinson saw it.
Getting no reply after a minute, Hermione knocked again a little more forcefully. Shifting the weight of the tray a little, she strained to hear if there was any movement in the room. There was a little shuffling and a groan. Though if she was sane, she would just set the tray in front of the door and leave – Hermione couldn't help the concern building up in her stomach as she heard another strained groan.
'What type of Gryffindor would I be if I let him die? Right?'
Hermione bit her lip.
'A good one, probably.'
With that last fleeting regretful thought, Hermione opened the door. She was kind of surprised that it wasn't locked – but he seemed like he was in such a bad state, remembering to lock his door from his nosey roommate wasn't really a priority.
The dark green room only darkened more as the heavy drapes were drawn over the windows. The only thing that popped out was the mop of sweaty blonde hair in the middle of the king sized bed.
Placing the tray of food on the floor, Hermione rushed over to Draco. Pulling his black comforter down, her hands hastily checked over him for any physical wounds. His sweaty state made her worried he might've sustained an infection from a cut of some sort. But as nothing was turning up, Draco was becoming more coherent.
His hoarse voice barely gargled, "Get out".
Hermione's angry eyes met his as she hissed at him, "No. Are you trying to kill yourself? What is wrong with you?"
Quickly casting a spell to change his sheets, she busied herself to wipe the sweat from his head with her handkerchief.
"Stop touching me, mudblood!" he weakly growled, a cough erupting from his throat as soon as he finished.
"Mudblood is a bit over played, isn't it? Why not call me Dirty Hemoglobin?" Hermione sarcastically bit out as she pressed him back into the bed. She was almost tempted to scougify him for his language but decided against it.
"Hema..what?"
"It means you should do what I say until you stop sweating bullets."
"What in merlin is bullets?"
Rolling her eyes, Hermione levitated the bowl of soup from the tray on the ground to the bed. The smell of creamy chicken gnocchi seemed to have enticed him from his little cave of blankets.
"That's…"
"Shut up and eat it, you nitwit."
When Draco woke up, he felt better than he had since the bloody thing began. The knowledge that his godfather and mother could die because he wasn't sure if he was able to commit murder was really weighing on him. And every day, he sees the cause bright and early.
And today would be no different, besides the fact it was now in his bed.
A waterfall of unruly golden brown curls spilled over his arm and chest. Attached to it, a soft breathing heaved over his heart. He felt her lips ghost over his skin as she mumbled in her sleep. He watched her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she continued to peacefully slumber on top of him.
'Ok- I receive news that I either give up the location of the mudblood or I have to kill the damn old coot.'
She drools a little.
'I end up picking the old coot.'
Her hand is on his thigh.
'The nose-less wonder then continues to inform me that he will kill my family if I don't deliver and my mother puts my godfather in this because – yes, we need more people in this pool of death.'
Was that a snore?
Now I'm in bed with said mudblood. Blood brilliant, Draco. A plus to fucking yourself, every time.'
Looking down as Hermione continued to sleep, Draco let out a sigh.
'You are more trouble than you are worth.'
Grunting, Draco pushed himself up slowly – Hermione's breathing was quickening, informing him of her impending awakening.
He watched as her eyelids fluttered open and as her cinnamon eyes took a few seconds to focus. The bleary looking on her face disappeared as she realized that he was awake. She practically jumped out of the bed with embarrassment. Draco couldn't help the smirk that crawl onto his face.
"I see you were enjoying yourself, but let me assure you that you would enjoy yourself more if I was coherent next time."
The blush that covered the bridge of her nose was kind of adorable.
Hermione spluttered as she quickly got out of the bed, "I was just trying to help! You almost died! You were out for three days! I had to take my assignments here and I missed classes because YOU put a charm on the room that wouldn't let me out!"
"I doubt I almost died," Draco snorted as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was kind of more knotted than usual but …. "Why are you still rambling? Shut up and get out, Granger."
"I can't!"
Rolling his eyes, Draco motioned for the door, "It's called walking. I don't know if they taught you how to leave at Mudblood Academy, but it's when you move your legs in a specific direction. In this case, out of my room."
Hermione huffed at him, muttering something that sounded vaguely like 'ungrateful'. She glared at him before hissing, "Don't you think I tried? I had to write some bullshit excuse that I was sick and that I caught a bug from you. I haven't been out in three days. I received food and the homework through owl! It's like every time I go to grab the door knob, it burns my hand. I've tried spell and charm but none of them worked."
"It's an ancient charm that you wouldn't be able to get filthy hands on," Draco sniffed at her, watching as she became angrier with each word he spoke, "You can leave now. You are no longer needed."
"Whatever, fine! See if anyone tries to help you when you're dying again," she growled – her eyes narrowed, "Next time, I hope you choke on that stupid soup."
With that, she stormed away in a flurry of silk and hair.
Looking down, Draco came to a realization.
"Wait, Granger! You took my sheet!"
AN: R&R I hope you enjoyed it
