Draco awoke in confusion, glancing out the window he saw it was dark still, meaning he had only been asleep an hour at most. Glancing around the room his eyes focused on his bed. Hermione was thrashing around, fighting off an invisible enemy.
Draco got up and ran to her side. "Hermione wake up. Hermione!" her eyes snapped open and her hands flew up to shield her head from attacks.
"No. Please no, not again, please." She whispered so fast Draco barely caught it.
"Shhh, Hermione, it's okay. It's me. Its Dray, they've gone now it's just me."
Slowly Hermione lowered her arms. "Dray?" she asked timidly.
"Yes Hermione, it's me its Dray." He reached out and rested a hand on her hair, running his finger's through it.
"Stay with me." She whispered. Grabbing his blanket off the floor he lay on top of the sheets Hermione was under and leant back on the pillows. Hermione snuggled up to him, resting her hand on his heart.
They laid together like that for a while, neither sleeping. Softly Draco began singing again.
"If I were a painter
I would paint my reverie
If that's the only way for you to be with me
We'd be there together
Just like we used to be
Underneath the swirling skies for all to see
And I'm dreaming of a place
Where I could see your face
And I think my brush would take me there
But only...
If I were a painter
And could paint a memory
I'd climb inside the swirling skies to be with you
I'd climb inside the skies to be with you
And I'm dreaming of a place
Where I could see your face
And I think my brush would take me there
But only...
If I were a painter
And could paint a memory
I'd climb inside the swirling skies to be with you
I'd climb inside the skies to be with you"
By the time he finished singing Hermione had fallen asleep, and was now dreaming peacefully. Draco lay awake watching her sleep. Running his fingers through her soft hair, thinking back over the night.
He liked her now, he could admit that. More then liked her? Sure he had said so when they were walking home, before the park incident. But was it true? That he didn't know.
But what he did know was that if he ever met Hermione's father he would act as he was raised, and make Bellatrix look soft hearted and loving. He would torture the bastard to within an inch of his life and then begin all over again.
No one was going to get away with hurting his Hermione like that ever again.
He paused his train of thought.
His Hermione.
Is that how he saw her?
A simple glance down at the sleeping angel at his side confirmed it.
Yes she was his.
His Angel of Light.
And he would be damned to hell if another man hurt her again while he lived.
Gradually he drifted off to sleep, arms coming around to protect her from the night time demons and as he slept he made a promise and it would be one he would never break.
Song belongs to Norah Jones, and is called Painter song.