A/N: We Might be Halfway now, if not even more. I'm ready to finish this. And the days – they're not enough days …

Chapter nine:
The Hungarian Bull/Romanian Water II

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[Day 26]

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Traveling through four different kinds of ports, simply because the threat of evil wizards from Russia that the Aurors set up a week ago was not what Draco had in mind when he and Hermione grabbed the lens box at the crack of dawn. He did not expect sitting in a shabby Auror office in Belgium, being questioned about his involvement with the Russians before they let him go to take the next portkey out of the country. He knew it had everything to do with the name 'Malfoy' that he bore after his first name and sometimes he cursed that.

In Russia, where he needed to collect the traveler's visa to enter Romania that the Belgium ministry refused him, he didn't expect to be openly celebrated. The Russians seemed pleased to have the opportunity to fraternize with him and a Malfoy in Russia got lunch, tea and a long, enjoyable conversation with successful businessmen. Neither did he expect that it was Hermione's turn to be locked up in an interrogation room and drilled with questions about the English Ministry before they were let go out of the country. The Russians were admirable, Draco reasoned, when after two hours he witnessed Hermione leave the little room with a broken spirit and her Belgium travel visa with an invalidation charm all over it.

After a clever disguise charm made by Hermione and some smooth talk from Draco they managed to grab a Portkey at the Auror office that brought them into the largest Portkey center in Europe. Germany's Portkey center was filled with all different kind of Portkeys and the politeness that the Galleon was met with in Germany made Draco remember why it was wonderful being rich. Hermione didn't even bother to make rude or smart comments about 'the power of the galleon' speech Draco held during their hour wait for the Romanian portkey.

When they finally arrived at the Romanian Portkey center with two fire smelling men and a Divination master Hermione seemed to be on the edge of drawing her wand up and yelling curses that would turn everybody into a pile of ash. He, on the other hand, was feeling nauseated by all the Portkey traveling. The feeling of swishing through long distances along with the purple potion that he consumed in a bathroom in Germany was now making him dizzier by the minute.

He quickly hauled a cab, paying the man extra to step on it and let the small streets of Romania pass by while he held his head between his legs, ready to puke any minute. He had ordered the driver to take them to the only inn he knew about, The Hungarian Bull. During the ride, the silence – a welcomed unfamiliarity since Granger sure loved to talk – was the only blissful thing there was. As soon as the car stopped outside the torn place with a violent pull the silence ended. Hermione started to shout, her nerves already on edge, while he crawled out of the car, pale and sweaty.

After levitating out their bags Hermione slammed the door behind her. He listened to the sound of the leaving car and felt her stand over him. He knew that her hands were on her hips when she growled at him harshly. "So the infamous Draco Malfoy, the man with the poise and so on, gets car sick?"

He didn't bother to reply to that; he didn't need more illness. Without another moment of collecting himself he straightened up and opened the door to The Hungarian Inn. As he entered the smell of a sweaty crowd hit him and Hermione, who walked behind him with their bags levitating towards the bar, seemed to smell the same thing. She passed him quickly with the bags and he followed her, recognizing the place from his previous visit slowly. It was still dark, funky smelling and very shabby. The only thing that changed was that it was more crowded than last time, he noted, now when people were pushing and shoving each other by the bar roughly, even for being Romanians. It might've been that Hermione was in fact Hermione or that she was a girl in this male dominated place but the crowd seemed to split when she walked through.

When she arrived at the end of the queue, anger and irritation poisoning her voice, she said only two sentences. "Two single bed rooms. Now."

All the men around her shouted angrily, they were yelling that she was not entitled to take all the rooms left. The barman who was scanning through the booking book hushed them instantly with one finger in the air. "Miss, if you weren't a lady you would sleep on a bar chair as most of these men will tonight." At that the crowd mixed cheers and groans. "There are three rooms left, you see, and one is mine. The other is Feyrevics – the famous dragon handler who's coming tonight." Draco realized why there were a lot of people in the bar then, as dragon handlers this had to be like meeting the Queen of England for English muggles. "And the last room can be yours."

The crowd of men burst out in angry yells and was already fighting her with words like 'females' and 'injustice'.

"Oh, is it because she is a pretty lady," one man with three missing teeth's said. "Maybe she'll entertain you in that room, Mr. Barman. Maybe she'll entertain all of us tonight."

After that a lot of events unfolded at once. The bags that Hermione levitated carelessly in the air while arguing dropped and Draco who were finally arriving to the spot where she stood tried to catch the bags without success. The sound of glass, as in glass vials with much needed potion, hitting floor along with the cheers filled the bar. At the same time Hermione had spun around to face the man with the three missing teeth's who had managed to grab her bum in the chaos. She had, without skipping a beat, straight punched the man flat across the face and he had tumbled towards two other men. Those men started to fight the tumbling man while Draco was trying to collect their bags. The barman looked like this was nothing above the ordinary but sighed when the remaining men were applauding Hermione and when Draco said, 'we'll take the room' and overly paid the barman. The barman simply gave him the room number with a bored look. Draco pushed through the crowd to find Hermione and when he found her, shouting insults in a more appropriate way than the man she fough, he grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her out of the cheering crowd and up for the stairs. He fled with both bags and Hermione's arm in his grip and an angry but cheering mob behind him.

"I hit a man," Hermione said while being dragged up for the last stair. She followed her words with an amused and bewildered laughter.

"Consider it as your Welcome-To-Romania fight," Draco said shortly.

"My what? I've been in Romania before, you know," Hermione said but didn't give his Welcome-To-Romania sentence much thought. "I actually caused a man pain, physically. Wand less."

"That's not a first," Draco heard him say but regretted it instantly. Hermione clearly remembered that he referred to the time that she had punched him in Hogwarts and started to laugh. "I think he'll be the man without four teeth after your hit though," Draco tried but Hermione was now gasping for air from laughing.

"I hit you," Hermione said, now roaring while Draco opened the room door and put down the bags. "And thanks to you I was almost thrown in jail in Russia for being a good guy. Oh, and thanks to you I'm at The Hungarian Bull, only to hit another guy."

"I don't see the fun in that," Draco tried but he wanted to laugh too, the whole day had been an absolute failure and when the wave of anger passed the wave of laughter closed up.

Only that he didn't laugh, he kept it professional.

The only thing he wanted to do now was go get some sleep and rest. When he was heading towards the bed he passed Hermione who grabbed him hard on the arm to stop him from taking it. The question she had in mind seemed to change, instead she said, "why are you so cold?"

Draco paused. He knew that he was getting worse by the day but right now he felt far from cold. "I'm not cold." He insisted. "You're warm."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No, you're cold."

"I'm going to bed –," Draco said instead, avoiding replying to Hermione's statements. "So if you could let me go."

"I'm not sleeping on that," Hermione said and pointed towards a battered sofa inches away from the bed. It was stained, worn out and crooked. On top of all it was a disgusting tone of red and brown that made Draco shiver.

"I'm a gentleman but not an animal," Draco drawled. "I'm not sleeping on that either."

"Well, I am not sharing a bed with you either," Hermione exclaimed, not riding the wave of laughter any longer but closing up to anger again.

Draco felt the odd sensation of a real laughter closing up however. "Don't flatter yourself – I would not dream of sharing that bed with you either."

"What do we do then?" Hermione asked and snapped in rapid speed.

"We try a duplicate charm," Draco suggested while fingering his wand.

"Go on then," Hermione said, now with arms crossed. "Most inns have the protective charms over the beds so you'll be forced to rent rooms."

Draco wondered who bothered to study these things. "Then why bother trying to duplicate the bed?" he said but to be honest he had the strange feeling of his magic leaving him, it started yesterday when he tried to levitate his suitcase into Hermiones living room and failed doing it properly. Today when he tried to levitate the suitcases in the bar he failed and now, a duplicate charm would be unsuccessful. He knew that symptoms of his illness was losing his magical powers but that was when he closed up towards the end . . . He just didn't assume, or even counted on, that him getting ill to that point. Instead of failing with his magic, so that Hermione would understand that something was wrong with him, he decided that the right thing to do was to claim the bed before she asked him again.

Hermione gazed at him suspiciously before she did a quick movement with her wand in silence and said, "I was right." A sentence Draco hated with passion.

"Good for you, I'm sleeping here now," he said and threw off his shoes and coat and threw himself on the bed with both legs and arms stretched out.

"Then I'll do something else," Hermione said and turned around to leave the room.

Draco, already close to dozing off by exhaustion said, "Where you going to do that?"

"Well, if I can't sleep here," Hermione said, disliking. "I might as well go and get a drink and meet this Feyrevics guy and learn more about the Romanian culture."

"Avoid the Romanian Water," Draco said while he wondered how Hermione could even think of 'learning' after the day they had. Trying to be considering according to himself he added, "The men will probably try to buy you drinks considering that you're the only female looking in that lot."

Consideration paid off in hearing Hermione say, "I can drink two bottles of Firewhiskey without feeling a thing, Malfoy, so don't tell me what to do or not to," before she shut the door behind her.

"Fine, suit yourself," Draco mumbled, but he felt angry inside for some reason so the sleep he fell into was a bitter, almost painful, sleep.

He had the most terrible sleep in history according to him. Without the potion normalizing his body heat and other symptoms of his illness he felt sick for the first time. He was freezing under the many blankets and shaking uncontrollably when his body tried to heat itself up again. Constantly he fell in and out of sleep during the evening, when he was awake he could feel something rip and tear in his veins and the cold caused him a painful headache. Those moments that he desperately tried to re-enter sleep he was disturbed by the cheers, laughter's and the sound of toasts and shots hitting the wooden tables down at the bar below. He was really upset with Hermione causing all that noise down there, she was the reason he felt this bad anyways so he would not be surprised if she caused all that noise simply because she hated him. It was all her fault that the vials were crushed and with only one remaining vial that he needed for tomorrow he was tempted to end this pain today and suffer tomorrow. On top of that she was not polite enough to stay in the room but drink away with the men in the bar who cheered her on like she was grander than Merlin.

Thinking of the intense feeling of anger he had towards Hermione somewhat warmed him up and he managed to fall asleep once again. This time with boiling, warm rage filling his veins instead of the same genetic illness that chilled his body down to what felt below zero.

He managed to get three hours sleep before he woke up; this time because the door to the room opened after some fumbling. In the entrance, while squinting, he managed to see a slim outline of what seemed to be an attractive woman and a taller man who were having a conversation with more laughter than words. He had the urge of sucker punch them both for opening the wrong room and with that awaking him because he was once again reminded of how cold he was.

"Feyrevic, thank you, it was really interesting," the attractive looking woman said. He watched the skirt-dressed woman wiggle a little on her high heels while she fanned herself with what seemed like a paper menu. Draco realized that it was Hermione who was the owner of the heat-rising body and felt more ill all the sudden.

"Ah, Hermione, you much interesting. You smart, smart. Not many woman dare challenge man. And win," the man, Feyrevic, replied. He watched the tall, dark and according to Draco, very properly and handsome dressed man bend down and place a kiss on Hermione's cheek before walking down the hall. That made Draco even more ill.

Hermione stumbled into the room and right into a chair, that caused her to giggle more, and then she did something Draco regrets wishing to want to see. She was slipping out of her shoes and skirt while whispering 'warm'. She released the tight hairdo and her bushy hair fell onto her shoulders. When she started to unbutton the shirt that ended at her thighs he held his look fixed. The first button revealed a long neck and a chain that hung almost heavily, the second button revealed a small locket of some sort hanging at the end of the chain and the third button revealed a cleavage that Draco had not counted with. He closed his eyes shut; now only listening to her garment dropping through the floor and her stumbling around for her bag in her underwear. She had to have forgotten that he was in fact sleeping in this room because she crashed into another chair and giggled before he heard her stumble towards the bed. When she lifted the covers and did a freefall towards the bed he knew she had forgotten for sure about him. Her legs hit his back and her arm slapped him across the face and she was so close, too close.

"What on earth are you doing, Granger," he demanded but the only thing he could think of was that her bare legs were burning hot and her arm was a hazard to mankind.

"Draco – no, not Draco but Malfoy," Hermione said, startled. "I forgot all about you," she said and stood up clumsily, only to stumble back on top of him at the same position.

The touch of her against his skin felt like being thrown into a fire naked, it was a wonderful but an extremely hurting sensation. Her smooth skin seemed to boil and every garment between them, his shirt and pants and her shorts and t-shirt, was keeping him from burning up. "It burns," he heard himself say.

"I'm really hot," Hermione told him but with her arm on his head and her legs across his back she realized that he was the opposite. "You're freezing! Oh, you're so cold."

"It's just you who had too many drinks, the Romanian Water makes you warm," Draco tried and Hermione seemed to buy it. She rolled over Draco and laid on the right side of the bed, her back facing him.

"Yes. Too many free Romanians," Hermione whispered giggling. "It looks like water. Why does it make you so . . ."

"Drunk?" Draco asked.

"N – No," Hermione said, and now she rolled over to face him with her eyes shut and her lips slightly parted. Her words were failing her slowly. "I was going to say happy."

"That's because you're drunk," Draco said, but he was happy and it had nothing to do with Romanian Water. Although he wasn't physically touching her it felt like being next to a heater and he was still cold, but not as cold as before and that was enough. Her presence made him feel warmer.

"I'm not drunk; I'm just not so sober." Hermione insisted, followed by another giggle. "And it's so hot!"

"Right," Draco said. The awkwardness in having Hermione Granger in the same bed as him had seemed to fade away. Instead he felt her getting comfortable with his presence.

Hermione came closer to him and said, "The closer I get to you, the cooler it gets. I wonder why."

Draco stayed ridged on his back, now turning his head to face her. "I'm a Malfoy, remember, we're cold."

She pressed her arm unknowingly towards his own and murmured, "no, you're not. You're obnoxious, lying, deceiving, hurting and insensitive. You're also devious and utterly ridiculous and you use too much hair products. But you're not cold."

"Gee, thanks," Draco heard himself say but he let out a short laughter after. It felt silent after that, the only thing he could hear was her breathing heavily and probably feeling nausea from the Romanian Poison as he would call it himself.

"That was an intriguing sound, your laughter," Hermione whispered after a while and murmured something that sounded like 'Night'.

He was sure that she had fallen asleep a long time ago when she placed her hand over his ridged body and crawled closer. He excused her for being asleep – or even assuming he was that red headed baboon – while doing that but only to gain more warmth from her he unbuttoned half his shirt and rolled up his sleeves before laying his arm across her waist. The words 'that was an intriguing sound, your laughter' stayed in his head and before he fell asleep with Hermione Granger in an awkward embrace he whispered, "Thank you."

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[Day 27]

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When he woke up the following day it was with his arm under Hermione's head and her head resting on his chest. Their legs were wrapped along with the covers and Hermione's hand rested inside of Draco's shirt, inches away from his heart. He felt comfortable before he realized why; he had gotten a good night's sleep and it was because of Granger. He considered this for a while before agreeing that this was even worse than waking up and thinking he spent the night with Millicent Bulstrode. Still, he didn't dare to move, he felt warm, sleepy and he could have stayed here for a while longer so he closed his eyes. If it wasn't for Hermione waking up only minutes after, realizing where she was and gasping so loudly that Draco had to pretend to be awoken he would've stayed there all day.

Hermione stood up from the bed and looked startled from the bed where she had been, to her clothes on the floor and lastly to Draco who stared at her with his rolled up sleeves and unbuttoned shirt.

"What," Hermione started. "Happened yesterday?"

"You had too much Romanian Water, probably," Draco said carefully. "I insisted on you sleeping on the bed and me on the sofa but you refused."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No you didn't!"

Draco smirked. "Yeah, you're right. Nevertheless, you came here, pissed as hell and crawled into bed."

"I shared the bed with you, didn't I?" Hermione exclaimed and it dawned to her that it was she who crawled into his bed. Slowly Draco saw Hermione puzzling yesterday's events together in her head, as always it was a rather thick sight to behold. It was with a pale look that she announced that she was taking a shower. "I need a shower. I'm taking a shower!"

"Well, at least I'm sure I'm not sharing that with you," Draco assured her.

Hermione stared at him like he was a ghost. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" she said and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

When they both had taken a shower and got dressed for today's events, they shared a quiet breakfast down at the bar. The men around them were looking at Hermione with fascination. 'Heard she swallowed more Romanian than good old Water Wayne before she got pissed,' some Englishmen said while others were talking about her and Feyrevic intense conversations last night. The ladder annoyed Draco and he might've chopped his eggs a little bit harder than intended, which made Hermione give him a stiff stare. When they were getting ready to leave, still in silence, they took a cab on Draco's demand because he didn't know where to Apparate too. The ride was even more uncomfortable, with Hermione sitting on the front with assumingly one from the bar yesterday. The man was still a bit wasted from yesterday, Draco knew by the bumpy and unsafe way he drove them, or it was Hermione's vivid explanation of the English Ministry that distracted him. When they finally arrived to the outside of camp Hermione paid and waved him off like the driver had been exceptional at his work. Draco took the lead and walked past a lonely sign that said 'ROMANIAN DRAGON CAMP' and through the empty camp towards the path that he walked on almost a month ago. With Hermione catching up from behind him he didn't feel the same kind of peace he did the first time he walked and when they walked the path it seemed to be longer than before. It was when they finally arrived to the four trees that were chained at the fire spitting and roaring dragon that Draco chose to speak.

"This is the sick dragon I'm fighting for," he said and presented The German Redeye called Jean with a hand movement. He saw how the dragon was struggling and hurting while the five dragon handlers around her were throwing water and potions blends to help her out. He somehow know it was in vain, somehow he realized that whatever he had was what she had and in the end one of them were going to lose.

"Is she the one that is sick?" Hermione asked and gasped. "No, no. . ." Both her tiny hands were now covering her mouth and Draco saw a tear fall down across Hermione's cheek, realizing that this was the first time he actually saw her cry.

"Oh, my beautiful Jean," Hermione uttered and she sobbed as quietly she could manage. "I've missed you. . ."

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Oh, the excitement… review!