Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Written for The Sick Challenge

Thanks go in order to my beta, blueskyshymoon-olgameisterfunk, for going over this piece.

(Edited December 20,2009)

I woke up to kicking.

I was in one of those dreams were you're falling, freely, in a motion so slow it feels as if you're floating in midair. My surroundings were completely white: the sky, the air, everything. I didn't know if I was nearing the ground, waiting for the tell-tale sign where my head bashing against the earth would wake me. The sign did not arrive. But just then, my legs started to be hit by gallons of water falling from the sky, pain etching into my brain.

But then I woke up.

The blankets had been stolen, the body next to me balled up on its side, an arm hanging from the bed. Hermione's legs were moving, kicking me in a way that had little tears in the corner of my eyes sprout unwittingly. I sucked in a breath, not knowing whether to try and retrieve the covers, taking the chance to wake her up and face her wrath for disturbing her, or to simply go back to sleep. I scooted closer to her, hugging her form, relishing in the warmth that radiated from her body. Her hair tickled my nose, its vanilla scent enveloping my senses, but it served to close my eyes, my brain starting to shut down in sleep.

I wasn't fully asleep though, I was in the state where your eyes are closed but you feel everything around you, the ability to hear tiny movements. I could feel Hermione twitching, sporadically; a knee jerk, a shoulder rising, her head moving from side to side. My eyes fought to remain closed, my mind reaching for the sleep that was slipping between my fingers. And then she started to shiver, slowly at first, but then with fervor.

I opened my eyes, blinking in the darkness; making out it was two in the morning. I rolled to my back, staring at the ceiling blankly. I reached my hand to her body, moving the blankets down, feeling her forehead, her cheeks. She was burning, my hand feeling as her features became hotter by the second. Damn, stubborn witch. I told her.

The creak of the mattress echoed against the walls, the sound making me instantly alert despite my fatigued body. I told her, but she never listened when she made up her mind. I told her she would get sick, and she had laughed, patting my shoulder as if I had just said I was hungry. She had gone outside, intent on joining her moronic bunch of red-haired friends. She even had the audacity to ask if I wanted to join. I had simply turned my head, not wanting to see her pleading eyes. And then she went outside, her laughter reaching the inside of the house.

I nudged her shoulder, slightly wincing as she slapped my hand away by reflex. "Hermione, wake up."

She didn't budge; her features remained in the same serene state. I caressed her cheek, liking the smile that started to form in her lips. I kept on caressing her face, my hands taking upon a life on their own.

"What do you want, Draco?" Her husky voice reached my ears, her body instantly settling back to sleep.

"You're sick, Hermione. Get up so you can take some medication."

"I am not sick," she said in that tone that commanded everyone to know how right she was. Ironic, really.

"Get up, Hermione."

"No."

"Get up, Granger. Now!" I said, trying to sound domineering. I saw her smile, a snort sounding from her throat.

"No, Malfoy. I think I'm fine just how I am." She flashed me a smirk, and then rolled her body away from mine. I felt the cold seep into my weary bones. Damn, bloody stubborn witch.

"Fine, don't get up. But don't whine to me about how awful you feel in the morning. I won't feel bad for you," I said, eyeing her, knowing she was already asleep.

I got up, tripping on the bloody shoes that I had carelessly taken off, trying my best to not make a sound. My hands felt for the doorknob of the closet, reaching in to take the extra blankets that were kept for guests. I made my way back to bed, kicking the bloody shoes to the side and falling next to Hermione, feeling warm again. I draped the blankets around us, hugging her form to me, sleep finally taking its toll.

I was dreaming of her. Of when she first smiled at me.

When I had the nerve to finally talk to her, she was alone. With a coffee in hand and a book in her lap, she looked the same as when we were in school, and yet so different. There was an air of calmness, an essence of peace that surrounded her. She was sitting in a bench, feeding the pigeons that flew nearby. Her hair wasn't as bushy, done that day in a bun with unruly curls falling, framing her face. She was smiling as she read, sipping her drink good naturedly.

I sat down next to her, not knowing what to say. She had looked up, a sort of panic written in her eyes. I shifted my body, hoping I didn't scare her away. But she remained seated, albeit a little warily. She continued to drink her coffee, her eyes looking at my own, as if trying to find something. I don't know what she found, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. The rich brown of her eyes sparkled as she looked at my own grey, and she smiled. Perhaps she was smiling because she could tell I was scared, or simply because she knew something I didn't. I never knew, but it didn't matter, because she kept on smiling, making my breath catch in a most uncomfortable way.

I felt the sun on my face, waking me from the dream. I opened my eyes, only to find that it was not the sun, but the light from the bathroom. I should have known it was winter after all.

I heard gasping and I instantly sprinted towards the bathroom. She was sitting on the floor, her head near the toilet. I would have laughed, seeing as how she was pouting, with her frowning features looking childlike, but I didn't.

I held her hair as she heaved the contents of her stomach for a second time.

I helped her get up, gripping her body tightly, taking her to the sink.

I watched as she rinsed her mouth several times, her no-nonsense face making me smirk.

I scowled as she elbowed me after looking at my face in the mirror.

When she was done, I carried her to the bed, wrapping her in a cocoon of blankets, ignoring her glare. "Don't say anything," she warned.

"I wasn't going to," I replied smugly, making my way to the kitchen, noticing it was four in the morning. I grabbed the teapot, filling it with water before placing it in the stove-top. I searched the cabinets for the proper medication, grabbing her favorite red mug when I heard the whistling of the boiling water.

She was sitting up when I entered the room. She looked tired, but her eyes were fixed on the television. I smirked when I saw her lips mouthing the words to that wretched movie she insisted on watching almost every other day.

"I brought you tea." She looked at me then, a smile in her lips. I placed the mug in her outstretched hands, leaving the medication next to her on the nightstand. She patted the spot that I had left earlier and I indulged her, settling my body next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and not voicing my complaints towards the movie that she so adored.

I watched as she discreetly took the medication, trying to be stealthy about it. I kept my eyes forward, ignoring how she kept shooting me looks to see if I was watching as she took it. "I know you're watching, Draco."

I smirked. "Really now?"

"You don't have to act so smug, you know."

"I know," I said, finally looking down at her. She was pouting, which made me want to kiss her little lips. I held her tighter, feeling as she rested her head against my shoulder.

Soon, I was the only one watching the movie. I never liked this Mr. Darcy, so I didn't know why she adored him. He was arrogant and insults the heroine for the better half of the movie.

I thought struck me then. I was this so called Mr. Darcy, and she was Elizabeth, stubborn characteristics and all. I chuckled, her intricate mind surprising me. I should have figured it out sooner.

I felt her stir against my shoulder, her body shuddering slightly. I moved her into a more comfortable position, knowing she wouldn't be relaxed if she stayed sitting up. A few curls fell in her face and I brushed them away, catching the smile that graced her face.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Darcy," I whispered, setting my body next to her, hugging her from behind.

She turned in my arms, placing her head between my neck and shoulder. I breathed her in, holding her tighter to my body. The sun was rising, dawn; I could see it reflect against the window, making my drowsy body relax further. She sighed, and I felt her smile against my neck.

"Goodnight, Mr. Darcy."

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you think, I would really appreciate it.

Title taken from one of the Pride and Prejudice Soundtrack songs.