This is a long one - enjoy!

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Hermione walked quickly through the empty halls, the sound of her footsteps echoing dully as she hurried along. It was still too early for most students to be out of bed, but she did spot a few people heading towards the dining hall for an early Saturday breakfast.

She had been awake since five, not-so-patiently waiting for Madam Pomfrey to come in and give her the all clear to return to her room. Spending the night in the hospital wing was never fun, but it was somehow even less bearable when it felt like there was nothing wrong. She had endured nearly 36 hours of the prescribed detox regimen and other than a persistent headache and a few lingering aches she felt perfectly healthy. She wasn't, of course, but the line between denial and perseverance could be hard to find.

She barely paused to take in the sight of the familiar portrait, simultaneously tossing out the password and pushing hurriedly through the door. Crookshanks was waiting for her on the nearest couch and immediately bounded over with a happy meow. She dropped the bag she held and sank to her knees against the soft carpet, gathering up her great butter-ball of a cat.

"Did you miss me, Crooks?" she murmured softly against his head, rubbing her face back and forth against the fur between his ears. She breathed in deeply, reveling in the warm kitty smell that had become such a comfort to her over the years. He was purring with abandon and she clutched him even closer to her chest.

"I fed him for you, great beast was yowling non-stop."

She was startled by Draco's sudden appearance, soon followed by a wave of embarrassment at how she must look in that moment. She'd had no choice but to put back on the clothes she had been wearing Thursday night, but instead of the polished, chic look she had sported to the swimming match now she felt frazzled and unkempt. There were no mirrors in the hospital wing so she could only imagine what her hair looked like. Actually, scratch that. She'd rather not imagine.

"Thanks," she muttered, looking away quickly after taking in her roommates typical flawless appearance. "I bet you conned him into extra kibbles, didn't you Crooks?" It was much easier to focus on the squashed orange face of her cat.

"How are you feeling? Better than you look, I hope," his voice was teasing but Hermione scowled at him as she stood up.

"You're right, this really is a hideous jacket," she countered, pulling the borrowed item away from her body in feigned disgust. "This much green would make anyone look pale and sickly."

He smirked at her in response, but soon softened his gaze. "Seriously though, everything okay?"

"I'm great, though I'll be even better after I shower," she chirped, offering up a mostly sincere smile.

"I'll wait for you if you want, I was just heading down to the dining hall. You must be hungry." He was being particularly considerate this morning, something she found equal parts sweet and annoying.

"That's okay, they fed me this morning before giving me the all-clear." This wasn't strictly true, but she wasn't in the mood for getting the silent treatment from any of her house-mates. "Catch up with you later?"

Draco looked like there was something more he wanted to say, but instead he just nodded and headed for the door. "By the way, I expect repayment for the loan of my jacket!" he cheekily tossed over his shoulder.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. Be careful what you wish for, Malfoy, she thought. It wouldn't be that hard to get ahold of a Gryffindor training jacket to give him as 'repayment'. Her devilish thoughts provided extra energy as she headed upstairs in search of a clean set of clothes.

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True to form, Hermione found herself tucked away in a dusty corner of the library just over an hour after being released from the hospital wing. She felt antsy after being cooped up and since her body wasn't yet up for a run she figured some research was the next best outlet. Her team of Healers from St. Mungo's had a lot of ideas for her next course of treatment and they had spent a good two hours the previous evening going through her options. It was mollifying to know that there was a group of top witches and wizards working on her case, though it had been strange seeing them all crowded around her small hospital bed. They had presented her with two different recommendations and neither of them sounded more or less unpleasant than the other. They had all agreed to let the head healer, Hettie Wenbrooke, make the call after running each option by Hermione's parents out of respect.

Professor Dumbledore had been present for the consultation as well, nodding along but not providing any additional suggestions. He had assured Hermione that her parents were well, but worried for her, and said that he had arranged for them to come for a visit at Hogsmeade the following weekend.

She appreciated that so many people were trying to help her, she really did, but it was hard not to feel like an outside observer during those sorts of meetings. The entire conversation revolved around her, often in embarrassingly intimate ways, yet there was never much for her to contribute. She had been working on her own research for several weeks now but her hours spent in the library were no match for the years of training and experience of the other witches and wizards. I'll just have to try harder she vowed, settling down more firmly in the hard wooden chair of the library.

A few hours slipped by in a blur as Hermione remained oblivious to the occasional students wandering through her section. It wasn't until she heard the unmistakable sound of Ron laughing from the next row over that she silently gathered her things and slipped off to the dining hall. It was tempting to shoot a quick spell at the bookcase and send the whole thing toppling down on top of him, but in the end her respect for the books won out.

It was nearly two, but since it was the weekend the house elves tended to leave snacks out all day before serving a full dinner at 5:00. She ate a small bowl of soup then grabbed some bread and fixings to make herself a hearty sandwich for later. The luxury of not having to sit silently at the Gryffindor table was one she took advantage of as often as possible. She ran into Neville on her way back to the Head dorm, assuring him that she had just been a bit under the weather and made a mental note of the chapters he mentioned she had missed in their shared classes.

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon curled up in a blanket on her bed working on essays for Transfiguration and Charms, each due the following week. She put on a record of Wizarding classical music, loosing herself in the lilting, haunting melodies so similar to those she had grown up listening to in the Muggle world.

Her body was starting to feel a bit achy again, a side effect of the detox, so after eating her sandwich she decided it was a good time to follow through with the rest of the regimen Madam Pomfrey had assigned to her as 'homework'. The oral potions had done a lot of good, but to get at some of the lingering toxins it was best to do a full-body soak. After a quick stretch she slipped out of her clothes and pulled on her scarlet bathrobe, yanking the tie into a secure knot. She grabbed the small cloth bag that she had been given in the hospital wing, along with a book and her towel, and headed for the bathroom.

She was a fan of taking baths when the opportunity presented itself - unfortunately that hadn't been very often during the school year until she had been made a Prefect. Even then, sharing the facility with other students was less than ideal. Now she only had to share with Draco and instead of being annoyed she found herself becoming secretly thrilled.

She used her wand to start the water, hotter than she would normally have preferred but the mediwitch had told her the hotter the better. She pulled the lumpy packet out of her bag and peeked at the contents. The substance looked like a chunky grey powder but, surprisingly, it smelled of mint and lavender. She set the packet next to her towel and wandered over the mirror. Her hair was behaving today, but she didn't want to risk getting it wet so instead she twisted it up and used a large clip to secure it in place.

Once the tub was all but full, she figured it wouldn't do to stall any longer.

"Ehrm, Mumpy?" she called out hesitantly. She wasn't accustomed to calling house elves and didn't know how loud she needed to be. Luckily, it took only three seconds before the small creature appeared.

"At your service, Mistress Granger!" squeaked the female elf, dropping into a low curtsey.

"Umm, please, don't curtsey, there's really no need…" Hermione trailed off. She had always been uncomfortable with the idea of house elves, and apparently that was one thing that hadn't changed this year. Mumpy was dressed in a patchwork of sewn-together rags, and though it looked artfully done it still made Hermione's jaw clench at the thought that the poor creature didn't have any proper clothes.

"Mistress Granger, Mumpy was told that you might be needing assistance this evening. How may I serve you?"

"I don't need you to serve me, Mumpy. But are you busy right now? There's a small job I could use some help with, but only if you have the time," she declared, glancing over at her steaming bath. She really should have called in the elf before running the water, just in case.

Mumpy blinked in response, her giant eyes complimented by her equally-large ears. "Mumpy is here for anything Mistress needs, day or night."

"Well, okay then. If you could just sit here while I take a bath." She cringed at the strange request, but Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she use a house elf to keep watch while she soaked in the potion. Her low blood pressure was still a risk and could apparently be exacerbated under the conditions. The humiliation of surviving the war just to die from drowning in a bath tub was enough to convince Hermione to follow through on the mediwitch's instructions.

Mumpy just nodded happily, trotting over to the corner of the room and arranging herself on the ground with perfect posture.

"Oh, ummmm, that seems really boring, doesn't it? Just sitting there for an hour?" Not to mention, Hermione was rather against the idea of the small elf just staring at her while she bathed. "I know! Can you wait right here while I grab something? I'd like to talk to you about S.P.E.W.! I'm a very big supporter of the freedom of house elves, we can talk about your career aspirations! And I can't believe I didn't think of it before, I absolutely must pay you for helping me. Do you think five sickles is a fair amount for your time?"

The horrified look on Mumpy's face pretty much said it all, but the conversation continued to devolve. Hermione rushed through her manifesto on the rights of elves, she scrambled around for a piece of loose clothing she could present, then she desperately begged Mumpy not to leave, promising to drop the topic if she would stay. It was too late, and the house elf disappeared with a resounding crack! Wizarding culture one, Hermione zero she thought to herself glumly.

Knowing that her water was getting cold she quickly thought through her options. She could try to call another house elf, but the only other female elf she knew by name was Winky, and they weren't exactly on the best of terms. She could wait and take her bath another time, but the steamy water looked incredibly tempting - and Madam Pomfrey had said it was important that she do the soak sooner rather than later. That left her with only one other option.

She tiptoed out of the bathroom, holding the sides of her robe tightly together even though it was securely tied. She knew it was absurd to be sneaking around, she was trying to find her roommate after all, not hide from him. She almost hoped that Blaise would be there, under the circumstances it would be monumentally less uncomfortable to ask both boys to keep an eye on her as opposed to just the one.

A quick scan of the common room revealed that neither Slytherin was there, so Hermione gathered her courage and slowly approached the door at the other end of the landing. In the nearly two months since school had started she had never had a reason to go to Draco's room. She had occasionally seen him either leaving or entering, enough to give her a glimpse of the deep green decor, but she had never even crossed over onto his side of the landing until now.

Her nerves were doing a full-on Irish jig in her stomach and she was painfully aware of the fact that she was naked underneath her thin robe. She gave two sharp taps and held her breath as she strained to hear movement on the other side.

Nothing happened, and after thirty seconds she decided that he must not be in and turned to head back towards the bathroom.

Before she could get more than a few steps she heard the creak of the wood, causing her to swing back around mid-stride. He looked very casual in his green sweats and grey t-shirt, a tumbler of Firewhiskey in his hand. The strains of a driving rock song could be heard quite clearly, and she was a bit surprised to know that he had put a silencing charm on his room.

"Well, this is a fun surprise," he leered at her good-naturedly, doing nothing to hide his appraisal of her outfit.

She was already red from the steam of the bath which only exacerbated her blush. Feeling self conscious, she subtly crossed her arms against her chest, just in case.

"I'll get to the point, I'm looking for a favor." She figured there was no reason to beat around the bush, best to get it out now before she lost her nerve.

"That's bold," he smirked at her, "but dressed like that I'm inclined to hear you out. What's up?"

She tried to subtly stretch her neck and glance over his shoulder into his room, telling herself it was none of her business if he had a 'guest' over, but feeling morbidly curious nonetheless. "Are you busy?"

"Just working on that Transfiguration essay," he shrugged, indicating the pile of open books she could just make out on his desk.

Okay Hermione, deep breath.

"This may sound a bit odd, but I was wondering if you would be able to come and monitormewhileitakeabath." She hurried through the last part, her words coming out in an unintelligible rush.

"Sorry, could I what?"

She looked down, too embarrassed by the strange request to meet his eye. "I was wondering if you could come and keep an eye on me while I'm in the bath. Nurse's orders," she felt compelled to add.

She looked up when she didn't hear a response, mortified to see that his eyes had widened and his mouth was slightly agape.

"Is-is that a euphemism?" he finally stuttered, clearly a bit shocked at what in other circumstances could easily be perceived as a blatant come on.

"No!" Her voice was a bit too loud for standing just feet apart. "Look, Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion that needs to be administered by soaking, and a house elf was supposed to do it but I scared her off and I just need someone to make sure that things go smoothly."

When he still had nothing to say, she turned abruptly and began walking away. "Never mind, it was stupid of me to ask-"

"Granger, for Merlin's sake slow down," he took two quick steps and grabbed a hold of her arm before she could disappear. "How long do you have to soak in the potion?"

"An hour."

"Let me just grab my books, yeah?" She nodded silently, watching as he downed the rest of his drink and disappeared into his room. When he came back he had two books tucked under his arm and a fresh pour of whiskey in his glass. "Lead the way!"

It was obvious that they were both uncomfortable and Hermione could feel the humiliation spreading throughout her entire body.

The bathroom was steamy and warm when they entered, only adding to the awkward tension.

"May-maybe you could sit over there, with your back to the tub?" He nodded and moved several yards away from the bath. She grabbed a stool and set it behind him and used her wand to transfigure it into a small wall, enough to ease her mind and ensure her privacy. She couldn't see him but could hear as he settled back against the barricade.

"Do you promise not to look?"

"Has anyone told you you're no fun?" That's the rumor around school, she thought with a hint of bitterness but knew that he wasn't serious.

She quickly heated up the water again with her wand before dumping in the grey powder and swirling it around. Casting one last nervous glance over her shoulder, she untied her robe and let it fall with a soft thump to the ground. She felt goose bumps raise across every inch of exposed skin, living a tingling sensation in their wake. This was the closest she had ever come to being naked in front of anyone who wasn't a medical professional, or her mother, and the thought filled her with a heady rush. Biting her lip to stifle a nervous laugh, she climbed delicately into the tub.

The water was barely translucent and felt gritty against her skin but overall she couldn't complain.

"Whatever you put in there, it smells nice." Draco's voice sounded muffled behind the wall, but she whipped her head up to make sure he wasn't peeking. There wouldn't have been anything to see from his angle, but still.

Only about ten minutes had passed, but Hermione felt like she might suffocate from the silence. She had a book with her to pass the time, but it was impossible to relax knowing that Draco was just a few feet away. She could occasionally hear a page being turned, and it made her irrationally annoyed to think that he was able to study given the circumstances. Just two nights ago he had had his lips pressed against her neck, and now she was naked not ten feet away. How was he playing things so cool when she felt ready to burst from the tension?

"You still alive?" he called out calmly, making her jump at the sudden noise.

"Yes."

"You know, you're pretty lucky to have the captain of the best Hogwarts swim team as your personal lifeguard," he teased and she couldn't help the small smile that stole across her face. "What did you do to chase off the house elf?"

"Well, I might have offered to pay her for her services…"

"Grangerrrrr," he groaned in exasperation, "you didn't go spouting off that HURL nonsense, did you?"

"It's S.P.E.W., thank you very much," she retorted in a huff. "And sorry for carrying about the plight of an extorted magical race!"

"I'm not going to argue that some families don't treat their elves poorly, you know enough about my family to prove that point, but under the right circumstances it's a perfect, symbiotic relationship. Maybe it's hard to understand as a muggle-born-"

"It's not hard to understand, not giving them no choice in who they serve or where they work is called slavery!"

"Most of them do have a choice," he countered. "You've only been exposed to a few examples."

"Ugh, let's not argue about this, not right now," she pleaded, rubbing her fingers against her temple to relieve the building headache.

"Fine," he agreed. "Anyway, it's not as fun when I can't see the sparks flying out of your eyes."

"Arse," she grumbled, shifting around in the water. Her skin was starting to feel tight and she was feeling a bit light headed. "Do you think you could get me a glass of water?"

"Wow, you sure know how to ask a bloke for a favor, don't ya."

"Sorry, it's just that I'm starting to feel a bit faint," her voice rose a bit at the end, sounding a bit panicked. If she really did faint in the bath and Draco had to rescue her she would never live down the humiliation, not in a million years.

"Okay, okay, I'm going to have to come out from behind this wall. You decent?"

"Yes," she squeaked. "You can just levitate it over with your wand." She watched him walk over to the sink and the glasses they each kept there. He never once looked in her direction, but nevertheless she sunk down in the water until only her head was poking out.

She could see that he had finished pouring the water; however, he didn't bother to send it over.

"Hermione." Uh oh, he had to be serious if he was using her first name. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I'd really feel better if you let me come over and check your heart rate."

She bit her lip at the request, frozen in a moment of indecision. "I'm really fine…" she tried to protest, but he cut her off.

"Look, judging by the steam you've been sitting in really hot water for over twenty minutes now, your voice is sounding peaky, you're absorbing an unfamiliar potion, and you just got out of the freaking hospital wing," he stated very directly, a hint of authority coloring his tone. "You asked me in here for a reason, please let me make sure that you're okay?"

Acknowledging that he had a point she wracked her brain for the best way to preserve her modesty.

"Just give me a minute to add some bubbles," she requested, reaching forward to grab her wand. It was just a little out of her reach, but when she shifted to stand up so she could get it a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"I-I'm too dizzy to get my wand," she admitted reluctantly, sinking back into the water in defeat.

"Okay, I'm going to come over, with my eyes closed."

She nodded, even though he couldn't see her, wondering for the hundredth time how she had managed to get herself into such a vulnerable situation. He moved slowly and though he kept his hand over his eyes she couldn't help but curl her body into a protective ball, hugging her knees against her chest in a nervous grip. When his toes hit the base of the tub he gracefully offered up the glass of water before turning and sitting with his back resting against the porcelain basin.

"Is that cold enough for you?"

"Yes, it's great. Thank you," she managed to force out. Her heart was pounding like crazy and her body was gently shaking. It was impossible to tell what effects were from the potion, and which were caused by his extreme proximity in her compromised state.

"Can you extend your arm towards me so that I can check your pulse?" If she wasn't so nervous, she would have been impressed by his calm, almost professional demeanor. Holding the glass in her right hand, she extended her left arm out and awkwardly hovered it near the vicinity of his shoulder.

Despite the fact that she watched him move to bring his fingers against her wrist she still jumped in surprise at the cold touch, certain parts of her anatomy clenching beneath the water. He counted silently in his head for a full minute while she fixated helplessly on the drops of water spilling from her arm and falling gently against his cotton t-shirt.

"Your pulse is fast but it should be okay," he finally stated, releasing her arm. "Can I turn around and check your eyes? I'll add bubbles first if you'd be more comfortable."

She gave half-hearted acknowledgment but deep down she appreciated his offer . "Do you know the charm? They have to be the everlasting kind because there can't be any mixing with the potion." He responded by simply conjuring an absurdly large pile of frothy white bubbles.

"I think you might have over-done it," she giggled, feeling the tickle of the bubbles against her arms and neck.

"Nah, it's just right," he grinned, shifting around until he was on his knees in front of her and coming face to face for the first time since entering the bathroom. "Keep your eyes open and focus on my nose."

She attempted to follow instructions, but it was hard with his face so close to hers, his breath coming out in deep, steady pants that she could feel softly brushing against her lips. I need a distraction! she thought wildly. "Where'd you learn to do this? Check vitals, I mean."

"Had to pick up a lot of skills during the war," he muttered, catching her eye knowingly and pressing his mouth into a hard line. "I never noticed you had gold flecks in your eyes, figures they put you in Gryffindor."

She was caught off guard by the soft tone of his voice, especially so soon after he had brought up the war. The steam from the bath had leant a pink glow to his cheeks and she had never before seen him look so open. Most often it seemed he oscillated between a facade of sarcasm or superiority, his signature smirk a trademark of each countenance.

Now, he just looked like a young, sincere boy. A boy she very much wanted to kiss.

Luckily, he turned back around before she had a chance to truly embarrass herself.

"You've got thirty more minutes. Mind if I stay close by? I'd like to keep an eye on your pulse to make sure it doesn't get any higher."

"Sure," she felt oddly bereft, as though some unspoken opportunity had passed between them, un-seized. "Thank you for looking after me, Draco. I certainly wasn't intending to ruin your Saturday night."

"No problem, Granger. I'm adding this to the list of the many things you owe me for."

"I hope you accept payment in the form of 'letting you borrow my notes', because that's all I really have to offer," she joked.

"Oh, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement." His words came out low and seductive and caused her to blush down to the very tops of her breasts, well hidden by water and bubbles. She wished she were the type of girl who would know instinctively how to respond to such a comment. Unfortunately, no hidden skills of flirtation chose to emerge.

"I forgot to tell you, the Weasel fell off his broom today during Gryffindor's Quidditch practice. Made a total arse of himself!" Draco laughed. His voice had returned to a normal pitch, putting her immediately at ease if not a little disappointed.

Their conversation continued easily for the remainder of the thirty minutes. Hermione found herself relaxing, going so far as to lean her head back against the edge of the tub where it occasionally bumped up against his. The glass of water had helped with her dizziness and she found herself reluctant to bring an end to what had evolved into a rather pleasant evening.

He turned away while she toweled off and resumed her robe—who knew that underneath all the snark Draco Malfoy could be a true gentleman?

In fact, once they had gotten over the initial awkwardness of the situation, Draco had been surprisingly mature and caring — a side of him she still wasn't sure she had gotten used to. The events of the past two days had deeply unsettled her, though she was trying to be brave. If she were to be brutally honest with herself, she had been 'trying to be brave' for months now, ever since she received the terrible, life-changing news in early August. The loss of her friends had forced her to form a hard shell around her emotions, but the unexpected relationships she had forged with the two Slytherins had slowly been chipping away at her armor. And now with Draco's actions that evening she felt what was once a small hole of vulnerability rip wide open.

The decision came to her with a suddenness that made her stumble. They had each been moving silently towards their respective rooms, but she stopped with her hand stretched in midair towards her doorknob.

"Draco," her voice was barely above a whisper, but when she turned to look at him he was staring back at her inquisitively. She could still see the wet patch on his t-shirt from where her bare arm had dripped onto his chest, and she chose to focus on that because it was easier than looking him in the eye.

"The war left so many scars. We were just children, we never should have had to go through that. None of us." She managed to keep her voice from shaking and was grateful when he remained silent, perhaps sensing the seriousness of the moment to her.

"We can never escape what happened to us. For me, it's a bit more literal." She could hear a ringing in her ears, but it was too late to stop now, she could feel the words on the tip of her tongue. The words she had been avoiding saying out loud, even to herself.

"I got hit with a curse during the Battle at the Department of Mysteries at the end of our 5th year, a nasty spell from Dolohov. It turns out it was worse than the healers originally thought." Deep breath, Hermione. "I have a magical form of cancer, and unless a miracle happens I've only got ten more months to live."

The weight of her confession stretched torturously between the two teens. After two minutes of silence, when Draco had yet to move a muscle or utter a word she turned and walked calmly to her room, tears streaming unchecked down her face.

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What do you guys think?