Reading is Sexy: Chapter 13:
Draco sat in the cold night air, and held his breath, watching her.
He had come down to the Black Lake to get away from Blaise, about two hours ago. He had taken refuge on a bench under an old, gnarled tree, and watched the snow fall. He thought of ways he could fix the situation.
Of course, Hermione had hurt him when she called him a Death Eater, but she had been right. How could she trust him after all he'd done in the past? He was tainted.
Draco watched as Hermione paused at the edge of the frozen lake, and gazed across it. Then he saw her, without hesitation, climb onto its slick surface.
She was intelligent, he knew, but she was stupid, so stupid right now. He let out his breath, because he knew she wouldn't see him, but he kept looking at her. He was afraid the ice would crack and she would fall into the cold, cold water.
But when she reached the center of the Lake unscathed, he relaxed a little, closed his eyes, and leaned up against the tree behind his bench.
I love her, he thought. I do and I really cannot deny it. When she rejected me, it hurt more than any physical pain I have ever felt, and when I realized I hurt her, I was in agony.
He was in agony now, but he didn't really know the meaning of the word, until he heard a scream.
Instantly alert, Draco bounded from his seat on the bench and listened for another sound.
"Not her, not her," he muttered, but as he looked to where Hermione had been moments before, all he saw was a black hole in the ice.
"No," he said, and he ran to the lake. Crossing its vast surface in less than a minute, he found himself at the edge of the crack in the ice.
Hermione, looking eerie in the dark water, was sinking and Draco felt tears prick in his eyes.
"No, No!" he screamed, and he tore off his shirt and his pants, his boots, before diving into the water after her.
The cold hit him, but Draco was so involved with saving her that he hardly noticed.
Using all his strength, he lifted her out of the water and pushed her onto the ice. With all his remaining strength, he pulled himself from the water, and felt the cold air against his skin.
Forgetting completely about himself, something Draco had never done before, he grabbed his wand from his jeans pocket and kneeled down by Hermione.
She wasn't breathing.
"No, NO!" he screamed, again, and then he put his mouth on hers, trying to give her the breath of life. It wasn't working.
"Hermione, you can't leave me. Please, PLEASE!" He blew more air into her lungs and pounded on her chest, and after an agonizing minute of trying to save her, he heard her choke and spit water onto the ice. He kissed her lips softly, hating how cold they were and then he felt her heart speed up against his chest.
"I love you," he told her, even though he knew she wouldn't hear him in her current state. He pulled her limp body against his and savored every heart beat, wondering how in the world he would have gone on if she had died in his arms.
He took his wand and cast a drying charm on her and saw her shiver. Her eyes were still closed though, and he thought that she had probably feinted.
He pulled his jeans and his sweater on, and stuck his wand in his pocket, before picking Hermione up and holding her to him. With each breath he heard her take, he felt more assured that she would live, and so he headed across the ice, being especially careful not to fall through the ice with her in his arms.
He couldn't lose her again.
After walking back through the snow he had cleared on his way to the lake, Draco found himself in the Great Hall and facing a dilemma.
He knew that Hermione was alive, and could feel that she was warming with each second that passed, so Madame Pomfrey probably wouldn't be able to do much else. Plus, he didn't think that Hermione would appreciate losing points for Gryffindor during her last year at Hogwarts, and knew that they'd both be in huge trouble if any teachers knew they had been outside so late, on the ice. He couldn't take her back to Gryffindor tower, because Pothead and Weasel would take her from him, and probably murder him in the process. He wasn't going to let go of Hermione until tomorrow, because he'd come so close to losing her and wouldn't ever want to let go again.
He also knew, without a doubt, that he couldn't take her back to the Slytherin Common Room. His roommates would murder them both and Draco had not saved Hermione so she could be murdered by idiots like Crabbe and Blaise.
He stood in the hall debating where to go, and when he felt Hermione shiver, he had an idea.
He climbed seven flights of stairs with Hermione cradled in his arms, and when he finally reached the entrance to his solution, he passed by the Tapestry three times, thinking, I need a place where I can keep her warm and safe without anyone knowing.
The Room of Requirement opened to reveal a small room with Green and Red decorations, a bed slightly larger than his in the corner and a fire roaring in the fireplace. He also saw thick blankets piled on a table across from the fire.
Draco crossed the room and lowered Hermione onto the bed. He grabbed five blankets off the couch, and after tucking Hermione into the sheets, he layered them over her. Then he grabbed more and continued to add them to the pile, until he was sure she would be warm.
Draco was extremely tired, but didn't think Hermione would appreciate sleeping in the same bed as him after what had happened on Friday night, especially without asking him, so he asked the room for another bed.
The room, it seemed, refused what its user wanted for the first time since it had been built, and no bed appeared in the room. He asked again, but nothing happened.
"I give up," he muttered and he crawled into the bed beside her, keeping his distance.
Hermione, however, unconsciously gravitated towards him under the pile of blankets, and when Draco saw her shiver, though not too intensely, he couldn't resist.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she curled up right next to him. He felt her body heat and felt flames rise up in his cheeks, but she was not awake to see them. His blush quickly disappeared, even as Hermione pressed herself even farther into his form and Draco hugged her tightly to him.
He looked at her light, brown lashes, not coated with mascara, and her thin, pink lips. She'd never been more beautiful: She was more beautiful now, naturally, than she had ever been with make-up and Draco knew he'd never care about Sexy again.
He sighed in content, and kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and finally her lips, before muttering, "I love you."
The last thing he saw before the world disappeared was her smile, which shone like a beacon to him even in her sleep.