The next Morning, Draco went to breakfast and asked Madame Pompfrey if Hermione had woken up.
When the Mediwitch shook her head, instead of taking his place at the table, he crossed the hall in a flare of robes and headed in the direction of her chambers.
When he got there he hesitated a second in front of the door. She was going to be fine, what was he doing there?
His hand turned the doorknob on its own.
His blood froze in his veins when he saw Weasley sitting at her feet on the bed.
"What are you doing here?"
Ron turned towards him, surprised. When he saw it was Malfoy, his expression shifted to anger and disgust.
"I could ask you the same question, Malfoy."
"You are not welcome here."
"You're not in the place to decide."
"Leave, Weasley, you are no one to her."
"And you are?" asked Ron sarcastically standing from the bed nonetheless.
Draco fixed him with a glance. But before he could say anything a voice spoke from behind him.
"Leave, Ron."
Draco turned and saw it was Harry.
"You are the last person on this earth she'd like to have near right now."
The read-head hesitated, but ultimately left, bumping into Draco's shoulder as he did. He smirked and went over to Granger's bed and checked the potions that were on her bedside table.
"It is just me or does she always have a potion on her bedside lately?" asked Draco, studying the liquids.
"She does. It seems that all the bad in the world in following her," said Harry sitting where Ron had. "McGonagall wants to hear you part of the story."
"Bet she does," murmured Draco, placing the phial back down.
"Do you have time, Malfoy?"
"Yes, I have about half an hour. What did you want to know?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I have reason to believe that Perry knows who's the attacker."
"What? How?"
"I can't tell you yet, but I needed to ask you, did she ever mention Faris Shafiq to you?"
The name did not ring a bell.
"No, I have only herd of the name," he answered.
"Yeah, you might've, they're Pureblood."
Draco nodded.
"What does she have to do with it."
Harry ignored his question. "Did she ever tell you why she moved to Paris?"
"She said she had always wanted to, it was one of her dreams growing up, and she took the first opportunity she saw."
Harry nodded. Sounded reasonable.
"Did you, while you were…ehm, together-
"You a thirteen year old girl now, Potter?"
"Screw you," he said. "Did she even mention any of her past relationships."
Draco shook his head. "She said she had someone during the last years of Hogwarts but never mentioned a name."
Harry nodded and thought for a couple of minutes.
"Is it Shafiq? The one who did it?"
"No," said Harry. "I have to go."
"What? You can't tell me more?"
But Harry was already too far to hear what Draco said, obviously too busy with whatever revelation he just had.
Draco did not linger long in Hermione's room. Just long enough to let his thoughts escape his own control. He left the room angry, with himself, with her, and with the world.
He tried to resist the urge to go visit her that night as well. So he did. He entered her room which was covered in darkness. The elves were yet to pass to light the fires.
He moved through the shadows with ease and put some longs into the fireplace and set them on fire.
When he saw the fire take a healthy burn he turned to look at her.
She was still asleep, unmoved. Almost dead.
He stood by her bed watching her chest rise and fall slightly. "How is it that you always end up in trouble, Granger?"
He took the chair from the desk and put it by her bed.
"Hope you don't mind me joining you."
He watched her unconscious face for a while studying to see any response. None was there.
"I also hope you didn't mind me and Potter chasing your ex-boyfriend out of the room. But even if you still have feelings for him, it would be rather unpleasant, I imagine, seeing him."
He let out a laugh along with a long breath and tore his gaze from her.
"He just doesn't seem to be able to leave you alone." He waited a second and whispered more to himself than to her. "And neither can I."
He got up, put the chair back in his place and left.
The next day, when he entered the Hall, he asked Madame Pompfrey the same question.
"She will need more time, Mr Malfoy," she said sadly.
He did not stay for breakfast.
He met Potter this time, in her bedroom.
"You will not tell me anything, will you?"
"About the case? Nope." Harry put a bouquet of flowers on her desk and scribbled a note for the eves to put it in a vase.
"How come you come and visit her so often, Malfoy."
Draco did not look at him not at Hermione while he answered. "I told her to go in the direction she did, I feel responsible."
"It was not your fault."
"Well, if she's going to die…"
"It is not your fault. It was about time the Ministry did something about the Acromantula, they are far too close to Hogwarts."
"Are they going to do something?"
"They will be," said Harry. "As soon as Hermione gets better."
Draco nodded. "Isn't it weird though?"
"What is?"
"The Acromantulas stick to their territory, that much I know. They were not supposed to be where they were."
Harry nodded. "Maybe they were just hunting and she was the easiest prey they could find."
"Easy prey?" Draco laughed. "Granger's nowhere near being an easy prey."
Harry smiled. She really wasn't, he thought. Without a word he took off.
"You're going? Again?"
"I need to do something."
Draco rolled his eyes. He took the chair from the desk and sat where he did the night before. This time, however he said nothing.
This was no simple infatuation that was going to fade with time. He cared for her well-being. He swore out loud and placed his head into the palm of his hands. She must never know. She must never suspect. He had to stop coming here. He had to stop thinking.
The only time he had felt something akin to what he was feeling, he had ended up beaten, bitten and imprisoned. He had to stop. It all had to stop before he couldn't control it.
A week passed, and Hermione did not wake up.
Draco had not gone to visit her.
There was a meeting at the Three Broomsticks, that night, and Draco wondered if he should go at all.
But he did.
He wanted to know what was being done to her, and if there was anything that could've been done.
They talked about the attacked Muggles and he found that he had no interest in listening. He still brewed the potion, he still took care of what he had to do, but he no longer had any interest in those people.
Harry had told them about his progress and how he still did not know the motif. He went on to explain his discoveries, but Draco's mind wandered somewhere else.
"The spiders did not attack randomly," said Harry. And he brought his attention on him once again.
"What?" he asked.
"Someone made them."
"Who?" asked Neville.
"My guess? The same person who can burn people alive but not kill them. They will not tell us who it is."
"But, why target Hermione?" Neville asked astonished.
"I'm still working that out," said Harry.
They talked about how the Caliph had sent what translations he had of the hieroglyphs in the tomb and how they did not match what Hermione had managed to translate. Draco stood up, and left the room.
He had to do two things now. First, he had to find a cure for a Acromantula bite. Second, he had to find who made the spiders attack her.