Hot Chocolate
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Well, I've decided to write another HermionexDraco story, but this time it's a Christmas story. Oneshot, k? K. And just pretend that… Mr. yeah you know killed… you know, in HPB, for those of you who haven't read it, I don't wanna spoil it. Let's pretend he's a good guy, kay? Okay. Enjoy. :D
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Hermione Granger sat on the couch of her, unfortunately, shared dorm with Draco Malfoy, wrapped in blankets. Bloody Dumbledore and his bloody rules. Hermione remembered grinning as she read the paper she'd gotten; notifying her of that she would be Head Girl.
Miss Granger,
I am pleased to inform you, after all your years of pu excellence in your grades and attention span to your previous teachers, and current, you have been selected to be the head girl this year. I must inform you, however, that you will be required to share a common with the head boy, who will, most properly, be from a house other than Gryffindor. There will be separate rooms, of course. Congratulations.
-Albus Dumbledore
Of course, if she'd have known Malfoy was going to be the head boy, she would have backed out of Dumbledore's kind offer immediately. But of course, knowing the unlucky curse that followed her, right before Christmas break, Malfoy got sick. Hermione, being the nice person she was, gave him care and medicine, for Madame Promfey was away for Christmas, visiting her family in London. She'd pulled in a substitute for her, but then the Christmas virus got to her, and she didn't know the cure. As a matter of fact, no one knew the simple incantation to heal the sniffles and some coughing… along with pure misery.
But, unfortunately for her, Hermione didn't have a high immunity to seasonal colds, and so she caught Malfoy's illness a day after he finally got over it. She'd woken up in her bed, freezing and her nose running. She was completely miserable.
"MALFOY!" She'd screamed as loud as she could, then let out a rough cough, covering her mouth and reaching for the box of tissues that had never been beside her bed in the first place. Malfoy trotted into her room, and leaving the door wide open, a rush of cold air coming in to make Hermione even more sick.
So that's how her stupid sniffles started.
Of course, it had gotten worse than Malfoy had it. She was sneezing, her eyes were watery, her throat was scratchy, and she was freezing, although she had an unusually high body temperature. A fever was bothering her everyday as she lay in the common room, on the couch, wrapped in at least three blankets, lying down, trying to sleep. Usually, the fire woke her up by crackling loudly every time she finally began to drift off. The fire was the second thing keeping her warm, so she couldn't exactly leave and go to her bed. She could barely even walk. Her legs ached so badly.
Draco Malfoy had been unusually nice to the Gryffindor girl once she'd caught his cold. He had apologized at least six times, saying he was sorry for getting her sick, which honestly, had scared Hermione. Everytime he came back into their shared common room from breakfast, lunch, dinner, his snogfest from a random Slytherin girl, or whatever, he'd always give her a warm smile and ask her how she was. She truly liked the attention she was getting from Malfoy just because she'd never seen him be kind before. Especially to a Gryffindor and a mudblood like her.
It was Christmas Eve, around 3:30 in the afternoon, and Hermione was still on the couch, which probably needed to be sanitized horribly, staring at the fire, longing to be up and about. She was waiting for Malfoy to bring her up maybe a sandwich or something to snack on for lunch. Or if suddenly, to her dissatisfaction, his nice streak was gone and he'd leave her to starve. Suddenly, her stomach growled.
Nice way to leave a poor, sick girl on Christmas Eve. Unbelievably hungry.
Hermione threw her head onto the arm of the sofa, curling up tighter inside her blankets, sniffling. She was also tired. Great. Hungry and tired. Maybe Malfoy wouldn't come back until midnight and Hermione would be dead. He'd feel so guilty. Or maybe not… As she began dozing off with that thought, the portrait covering the entrance to the shared common room swung open and in stepped blonde, Slytherin Malfoy, holding a cup and a sandwich in his hands.
"Not asleep, are you, Granger?" He asked, walking towards her as he walked over to the sickly brunette. She tugged her head up lazily, her eyes cracking open.
"Not exactly," she said hoarsely. Malfoy winced.
"God, Granger. You sound worse than you did yesterday," he exclaimed, handing her a sandwich and the cup. She smiled gratefully and gulped whatever it was down. After that was down her throat, she set it by the couch, her throat numbing momentarily from the icy liquid. She sighed.
"I feel worse than yesterday, too," she said, grabbing the sandwich and taking a huge bite. Malfoy stared at her.
"Did I leave you here starving?" He asked, scooting her legs over and sitting on the end of the couch.
"Kind of," Hermione responded, already half finished with her sandwich. She took another huge bite. Malfoy touched her wrist. She stopped chewing what was in her mouth and looked up at him, confused.
"Don't want you to throw up," he said, cheeks tinting pink slightly as he withdrew his hand. She smiled slightly.
Ginny had noticed his odd behavior too. Two days before, Ginny was in the shared commons with Hermione, talking about what the sick girl had missed, when Malfoy came over to join in on their conversation. He sat down in the chair next to the fire and when Ginny looked over at him nervously, he smiled kindly at her.
"Don't worry, Ginny. He's not as evil as we thought he was," Hermione joked, grinning at Malfoy, who gave her an even bigger grin.
"And Hermione's not as bitchy as I thought," he said, sarcastically. Ginny's jaw dropped and she looked at Hermione, then at Malfoy, scoffing.
"Since when were you guys on first name terms?" She demanded. Malfoy's face flushed and he stood up.
"Uh, well I have to go meet up with… uh… Blaise. Seeya," he said hastily, rushing out the common room and out of the portrait hole. Ginny glanced at Hermione accusingly. She just shrugged.
"There's something weird about this," she mumbled, standing up and leaving Hermione all alone, wrapped in at least three blankets. Little did she know the next day she'd have six around her, and she wouldn't be able to get to sleep.
"Malfoy, are you alright? You've been red in the face quite often. Sure you're not getting sick again?" Hermione teased, watching him withdraw his pale hand, and blush harder.
"Shut up, Granger!" He said, standing up. "I don't know why I'm being so nice to you! You probably put a spell on me or something, you filthy…" Malfoy trailed off, seeing Hermione's eyes becoming very watery after his words. He looked down at the floor and without a word; he huffed off to his room. Hermione sniffed and finished her sandwich, pushing back her tears. As she finished the food, she sank into the couch, wallowing in her misery. This was the worst way to spend Christmas break.
…She could seriously go for some hot chocolate.
"Mmm," she groaned, closing her eyes, pretending that Malfoy would come and just give her a mug of hot chocolate and apologize. Maybe help keep her warm too. She felt a grin come upon her face. Lately, he'd been on her mind too much. She couldn't get his smiles out of her head, and frankly, it was bothering her. She felt like it was useless to end up falling for the pureblood, who had tortured her for six years, calling her names and smirking at her constantly. Slowly, but surely, she felt herself sinking to her knees, hopelessly becoming mad for him. Stupid freaking Malfoy. Charmer. Hermione felt herself drift off to sleep, finally.
"…Granger?" called a voice, which seemed very distant. "Granger!" It called again, sounding less faint, and as if it was right next to Hermione. The girl groaned and waved her arm, then heard a slapping noise. She opened her eyes as quickly as she could, her vision fuzzy. Once it cleared, she saw Malfoy kneeling beside the couch, a sad expression on his face.
"Oh, hello," she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes, trying to sniff, but her stuffy nose preventing her from doing just so. Malfoy winced.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier…" He said.
There he was going again! Apologizing and being nice!
"Oh… Er, well don't worry about it…" Hermione said, the hoarseness in her voice audible again.
"Okay… Well, I brought you some hot chocolate, since your throat is all… You know," he said, picking up a cup from the table beside the couch and handing it to her. Her senses snapped up and she grinned, eyes sparkling, not saying a word. Malfoy began to look concerned and he set the cup back on the table. Hermione ripped off her blankets and glomped Malfoy, laughing all the while. He got knocked backwards as Hermione kicked herself off the couch, arms wrapped around the blonde's midsection. His face flushed as they hit the ground, Hermione still laughing. She rolled off him, laughing insanely.
"Oh my god, Draco, thanks!" She said, feeling so much better. Malfoy sat up, still blushing. He ran a hand through his hair.
"For what?" He asked. Her laughter finally subsided and she looked at the blonde and sat up from the floor, still smiling lightly. She scooted over to him, feeling very well cured from her cold momentarily as she leaned over to the side of his face, her mouth near his ear.
"The hot chocolate. You just made my day," she whispered into his ear. Suddenly, she gave him a peck on the check and hopped up onto the couch.
"M-Merry Christmas, I suppose," Malfoy stammered, touching his cheek where her lips had made contact. Hermione smiled and took a gulp of her hot chocolate.
She felt much warmer than she had in the past three days with her hot drink in hand.
"Thanks, Draco."
Likey? No likey? Little Christmas fluff I felt like writing… Wait, would it be considered fluff? o.o; Anyways… Thanks for reading, now make it worth my attention and gimme your opinion with a WONDERFUL REVIEW! D
Lub!
-Aeris1172