A.N.: I know it has been so long since I have posted but I had so many directions I could go with this and just could decide. Now, I know things have escalated really quickly in this chapter but please don't hate me. It had to happen and some things I will come back to or go over later. Just trust me please, I beg of you!
Happy reading!
Days passed and in the isolation of the hospital wing it was easy for Draco to forget the seriousness of Hermione's condition, it was easy to forget that she was slowly deteriorating, her body shutting down. Madame Pomfrey has a strict regime of potions and charms that she administered to Hermione's failing body, but while they controlled her condition, they did not improve it. Admittedly, Draco noticed that the tiny girl's hip bones did not protrude quite as much as they had been. Her tremors, while still frequent, were less severe. Her mood was slightly more positive and she was less despondent. However, these changes were subtle and because they did not considerably affect the condition itself, they went unnoticed by all but Draco.
Spending most of his time in the ward, Draco would overhear snippets of conversations, arguments, fights and disagreements. Most commonly, he would arrange himself to be in a position where he would accidentally be able to overhear the disagreements that transpired between Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. The two women, who were most actively involved in Hermione's care and recovery, disagreed and frequently fought over what they considered to be in their student's best interest. Madame Pomfrey wanted to send Hermione off to St Mungo's for more concentrated and, hopefully, more effectual care. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, wanted Hermione to stay at Hogwarts, return to her classes, and definitely did not want to separate the young Slytherin and Gryffindor. Draco, personally, was intrigued by the invested interest McGonagall had, not only in Hermione, but in them both; together.
After a particularly heavy snowfall, Draco was seated by Hermione's side working through a particularly gruelling Potions Essay when he felt Hermione's gaze on him. He looked up and found Hermione staring at him looking thoroughly unimpressed. Draco was shocked; this was the most fire and emotion he had seen in her in a long while.
"It's stopped snowing," Hermione pointed out. "It was snowing but it's not anymore."
"Really? You don't say," Draco dead panned, proving his Slytherin traits were still out in force, despite his concern (or softness) when it came to Hermione.
"Don't be an ass, Draco. I can barely see anything from where I am. Do you realise how long it's been since I've really seen anything?" Draco paused to consider this. While there was a window across the room, it was difficult to see much from Hermione's position. He also considered the window seat across the room. It had a back rest to lean on and was padded and incredibly comfortable. He could testify to this as he had slept on it on more than one occasion. It was intended for visitors but Hermione did not have many of those due to her condition. However, Draco was not concerned with the comfort of others. He thought about what the seat would look like with a few extra cushions, a couple of pillows and a pile of blankets.
Hermione, believing she wouldn't receive a response, laid back down with a sigh. Even the slight bit of energy had tired her somewhat. While her gaze was elsewhere, Draco's wand flicked a little and the desired pillows and cushions appeared. Then, without warning, he scooped Hermione up out of the bed, blankets and all, carried her across the room and deposited her on the makeshift lounge/bed he had created.
Brown eyes lit up and Draco was astonished by the difference it made. He was more astounded, however, when he realised he could not remember the last time he saw that amount of life. He only received a quick glance from Hermione before she was looking out the window with utmost fascination. Hogwarts in the snow was a sight to behold and a small smile graced the witch's face. Hermione was enthralled as she watched students walk around the snow covered grounds; Draco was equally enthralled watching Hermione's reaction. It seemed not all the life in Hermione Granger had been lost.
Draco seated himself partially behind Hermione and partially to her side, careful she would not be able to fall from the seat. Neither was aware of how long they remained in this position but it showed them that they were something. What they were could not be defined, but it was there and it was something and it was enough.
More than one tremor tormented Hermione in this time, but after the first Draco wrapped his arms around her tiny frame and every time it happened he would hold her tighter. It comforted them both and if anything was going to hold Hermione together, it just may be this.
The spell was broken at the sound of the large door's bang and Madam Pomfrey's slightly hysterical reaction.
"What on earth do the two of you think you are doing? Out of bed? In your condition? You should know better, the pair of you!" Madame Pomfrey lectured as she bustled around the room, arranging things so she could send her patient back to bed. Draco was the only one who heard the small sound Hermione made; a small sound that sounded suspiciously like the beginnings of a laugh. A small sound was all it took was to ignite Draco's hope. It was a daring, brave hope that could potentially bring the proud wizard to his knees, but he could not resist it. What if there was a chance?
Madame Pomfrey gently levitated Hermione back to the bed and as she did Draco stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione looked on in dismay, wondering what had happened, having no choice but to remain where she was.
Logically, Draco knew he shouldn't have run out the way he did but he was not thinking rationally. Angrily, he made his way to his room, giving several detentions and deducting quite a few points along the way. He was furious with himself. He was furious that he had developed feelings for a know it all Gryffindor, he was furious that said Gryffindor was so bloody fragile, so broken, he was furious at himself for having a hope.
Hope could crush him. He knew this. If he hoped, and the end was bed, it could destroy him. But what if it wasn't false hope? What if there was a good outcome? What would he do? What did it mean for them? While Draco's beliefs and attitudes and behaviours had changed over time, the society he was part of had not changed. It was incredibly uncertain whether there would ever be a future for them. If Draco was honest with himself, he didn't know which alternative would be worse.
Hermione didn't see Draco again.
She knew he was scared and she knew things had changed for the both of them and that it was harder for him than it was for her. She wished he hadn't run, but she knew why he did. She wished it didn't hurt so much, but she knew that hurt was good. Pain meant that she could feel again and it was so much better than being numb. Mostly, she knew she had to get better because if she didn't she would never get the chance to slap his annoying, blonde, ferret-y self. She would never get the chance to kiss him the way she wanted, to run her hands through his hair or to feel his hard body pressed against hers.
There was no cure for Hermione's condition and the road ahead of her was long. But she was the brightest witch of her age and would prove it. She would work with Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn. And at the end of the road, Hermione knew Draco was there and if she could just get there, she would find him.
When word got around the school that Draco had left, an old friend made his way to see Hermione. A black haired, green eyed friend. He was a friend that came alone, and sacrificed many relationships to do so but like Hermione and Draco he made a choice. He stepped up and became a man. He became a man and stood by the girl that had always stood by him. The girl who had held him up when he could no longer stand and he knew, he had to do the same for her.
