Chapter 19 - Bedtime
Hermione moaned as she finished transfiguration of the note in front of her and blindly reached for the next one. When her hand met the hard grain of polished wood instead of the soft velvet texture of parchment, Hermione blinked and looked up with bleary eyes at the space where her share of their work had been piled up. No letters remained for transfiguration. She was done. Next to her arm, Malfoy's head rested on the table, facing away from her. When had he put his head down? She hadn't even noticed.
"Malfoy?" Hermione said, her voice cracking from disuse and fatigue.
"Hrmm?" he responded, shifting slightly before resettling.
Hermione scanned the desk. They hadn't talked much since he had asked her to stay. She had been too frustrated with him to bother, and Malfoy hadn't shown interest in more conversation. At least his pile was done, so she didn't need to wake him for that. They were both done.
Hermione sighed. What was she supposed to do now? She felt like death after everything that had happened the last few days, and then she had pushed herself to stay up… half the night? All night? What time was it? Hermione reached into her robes to pull out her timepiece, a birthday gift from Harry following the war. She stared at it, frowned, then looked at it again. It was past five in the morning. If she went upstairs now, she wouldn't be able to settle down again before it was time to get up for class.
Hermione reviewed her options. Going back to her room would either mean sleeping through morning classes or not getting any rest at all. Hermione wasn't sure which was worse. She hated missing class, but she had drained so much of her magic working on these letters that she didn't see what use she would be without sleep before class. She would have to rest here.
Malfoy was already asleep, thankfully, so Hermione didn't have to face the awkward embarrassment of asking him if she could sleep in his room… or risk having him reject her. She did briefly consider trying another dormitory in Slytherin or even its common room, but she wasn't sure her nerves could handle risking the shock of waking up to find someone occupying the same space she was. At least Malfoy knew where she was to avoid her.
Hermione looked around his room. The only real options for sleeping were his bed and his desk, and he was already occupying his desk. Hermione cringed. Sleeping in his bed was definitely an invasion of… well, something… and yet, at least there they would not be touching. If she fell asleep at his desk, they would only be inches from each other. Hermione chewed her bottom lip. Perhaps she could just pull his bedding onto the floor and sleep there instead? Or maybe skip the bedding entirely? But the large bed left little floor space, and she was very likely to wake up under Malfoy's foot if she tried to use it for rest.
And besides, hadn't Malfoy said something about putting her to bed if she fell asleep there? Wasn't that like having permission? At least a little?
Hermione slowly pulled herself away from the desk and climbed onto Malfoy's bed, kicking off her shoes and removing her uniform's tie on the way. She had sat there enough tonight and nearly fallen asleep on it once already, so she wasn't as nervous as she might have been otherwise, and yet, she was nervous. This was her first time intending to sleep on Malfoy's bed, and she still didn't know where she stood with him.
Hermione eyed his green duvet with silver embroidery and debated whether to sleep on or under it. Which was worse? An unwelcome shiver from the cold decided for her. Hermione crawled under his blankets, hoping like crazy he wouldn't wake before she did. Since she was under the covers anyway, she made another decision in the name of comfort to unlatch her bra and pull it out through her sleeve to tuck into a pocket in her robes, which she spread over the duvet like an extra blanket. Malfoy would never know, and Hermione would sleep much better without it on.
Hermione used her wand to dim the lights in the room, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
Malfoy followed Hermione in her dreams that night. In some, they worked together on various projects. In others, they competed. In one, he smiled proudly at her as she gave her first speech after becoming Minister of Magic. In another, he laughed at her while Bellatrix tortured Hermione with the Cruciatus Curse and house elves glared at her. It was all jumbled and contrary, and when the shifting of the bed ripped Hermione out of sleep in the middle of it, she bolted upright, gasping.
"Granger?" Malfoy said from close by. "Are you okay?"
Hermione flinched, trying to separate the chaotic Malfoy of her sleep from the flesh-and-blood Malfoy in bed next to her. Hermione frowned. He was in bed next to her, halfway under the duvet. Her head cleared in an instant as she went on high alert. Would he kick her out now? Mock her for taking comfort in his room? "Why are you in bed?" she asked him when she realized he was waiting on her to respond.
Malfoy snorted softly. "It's my bed, Granger," he answered with a small smirk on his lips.
"Yes," Hermione said slowly as her mind attempted to make sense of the situation. "But you had been sleeping at your desk. I didn't think that you would be needing your bed tonight."
"My neck is killing me. I'm not about to go back to the desk. You're welcome to it, if you like," Malfoy said with a sigh, sliding fully under the sheets and turning his back on her. He rolled his neck and groaned in discomfort before twisting back to face her. "You know a lot. Would you happen to know any spells that would help my neck?"
Hermione shook her head. Episkey wouldn't repair what wasn't broken, and she really didn't know much else for healing. Hogwarts seemed to rely heavily on Madam Pomfrey rather than teaching students how to manage their own mishaps. "I could…" Hermione trailed off. She had nearly offered to massage it, like she might have for Ron or Harry, but this was Malfoy.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Could what? Whatever it is, if it helps, do it."
Hermione shrunk back. Surely he didn't want her rubbing his neck, did he? And in his bed, no less? "Perhaps I better not," she said weakly. "I am rather tired, after all."
"Dragon's snot," Malfoy said, calling her out on her excuse. "Granger, I'll pay you 50 galleons to do whatever it is you're avoiding right now to help my neck."
Hermione glared at him. "I don't need your money!" she said, affronted that he thought he had to pay her to get her to help him.
"Then give it to a charity! Just help me out, Granger. My neck is killing me!"
"Fine!" Hermione snapped. "I'm going to massage it. If I can loosen the muscles enough, it should help relieve the pain. Now if you still want me to do it, sit up," she instructed. As she suspected, he didn't move. She didn't think he would be so desperate for relief that he would ask a muggleborn to put her hands on him.
"If the goal is to help my muscles relax, wouldn't sitting up make things more difficult?" he asked after a moment's time. He shifted to rest on his stomach with his head turned sideways on the pillow. "I expect this is a much better position for that."
"What?" Hermione said. He was right, of course, but if he didn't sit up, then she wouldn't be able to comfortably reach his neck on the bed without straddling him. She had done it for Ginny a time or two following rough Quidditch games this past year, but never a man… "Malfoy, if you want me to massage your neck in that position, I would have to sit on you," she said, hoping this would clear things up enough to have him change position.
"Granger, my neck really hurts," Malfoy said in response. "I understand that touching a former Death Eater might be scary, but I'm just asking for help."
"I'm not scared of you!" Hermione protested.
"Well, go on then," Malfoy said in a voice that left no room for debate. Hermione practically growled in frustration as she climbed out from under the duvet and moved to straddle Malfoy's back. "Oh wait," he said as she started to climb onto him. "Forgot one more thing," he said. He sat up, quickly yanked off the undershirt he had been wearing, and tossed it aside, leaving his chest bare. "Wouldn't want the fabric to get in the way." He returned to his previous position on his stomach, leaving Hermione to gawk at his naked back.
"You didn't need to remove your shirt for me to rub your neck," she protested. She had been thinking too much about him already that evening. She did NOT need more of him to think about.
"Whole back hurts too though. You may as well just massage it all," Malfoy said and closed his eyes.
Hermione gaped at him. All thoughts of attraction fled at his attitude. How on earth could he be so presumptuous and conceited as to assume she would just climb on top of him when he was half-undressed to massage not just his neck, but also his back, when she had barely had an hour of sleep and stayed up most of the night using her magic to help him stay out of Azkaban? An idea kindled in Hermione's mind, and she smirked. She was going to make him regret this.
"Anytime now would be nice, Granger," Malfoy said.
Hermione fumed, but she kept her silence. Taking care to keep her skirt between her and Malfoy's skin, she swung her leg over him and straddled his lower back. She studied him as she considered her options for payback. He did have a very nice back, she supposed. It almost made her feel guilty for what she was considering. Her wand was out of reach, but she didn't need its guidance for the spell she wanted. Quietly, so Malfoy wouldn't hear her, she whispered the words to make her touch ice cold, and then she dug into the flesh of his neck without warning.
"Agh!" Malfoy cried out, contorting from the discomfort and nearly knocking her off him as he twisted to swipe her hands off his neck. "What the hell, Granger?"
"Sorry," she said cheerfully. "Cold hands. Perhaps they'll warm up as I work?"
Malfoy grabbed his wand off his nightstand and quickly muttered a spell to warm her fingers to more comfortable temperatures. Without another word, he settled back down into position with his face to the side so that he could look back at her. "Continue," he said. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, as if to suggest she hurry up.
Hermione pursed her lips, wondering what to do next to thwart his relief. If he had just asked nicely and cooperated, she would have been… well, perhaps not happy to help him. He really had infuriated her earlier with his comments about her poor social skills, not to mention she really wanted space from him to clear her head, but she would at least have been considerate of his needs. However, with his current attitude, she was far more interested in annoying him. "You know, I'm not sure I quite know what to do," Hermione lied, figuring she could always just horribly misinterpret any instructions he gave her.
Malfoy snorted. "Of course not." He opened his eyes, and they gleamed as he stared at her. "Would you like me to show you?"
"I'm sure I can figure things out if you just talk me through it," Hermione said primly.
"Afraid of a little hands-on instruction, Granger?" Malfoy taunted with a raised brow.
Hermione bristled with fury. She knew he was baiting her, but her pride wouldn't let her admit to cowardice, and the only retorts she could think of were likely to get her kicked out. Furthermore, her own shoulders also hurt from the hours spent bent over his desk working, and he was essentially offering to give her a massage. "I suppose a little hands-on instruction wouldn't be too awful," she conceded. "I'll be sitting upright for your instruction though, and I'll keep my shirt on."
"Alright then," Malfoy said. Hermione climbed off his back and sat facing away from him. Goosebumps formed along her limbs without the warmth of his body or the duvet, and the thin fabric of her white blouse scraped against her bare breasts. Horrified, Hermione looked down to discover her blouse did little to conceal what was underneath. Had Malfoy noticed? "I'm going to put my robe back on," she said in a shaky voice.
"For a neck and back massage?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "Are you certain you're not afraid?"
"I'm cold," Hermione said truthfully.
"That's easy to fix," Malfoy said. He grabbed his wand, cast the same warming charm from earlier over her whole person this time, cast a second spell that tied her hair up off her neck, and then scooted until he was close behind her. "How are you feeling?"
The spell had helped. Hermione now felt comfortably toasty without more clothes on, and with Malfoy directly behind her, he wasn't likely to notice her chest for the moment, at least. Still, she was exhausted. She wanted to go back to sleep. "Just get it over with, Malfoy."
"If you insist," he said, and he got to work. He set his hands on either side of her neck and rubbed firm, small circles at the base of her skull underneath her hair. Hermione gasped in surprise at the gentle invasion and fought not to moan in response to his touch as he worked his way down her neck and into her shoulders. He used more force there, occasionally switching to the heel of his hand to apply force. Hermione whimpered as he found one of the knots in her back and worked to free it. Malfoy didn't comment on her reaction, and Hermione found herself forgiving him a little for his earlier attitude.
He paused when he reached the area below her shoulder blades, then went over the area more carefully with his fingertips, as if searching for something. He stopped with one finger left on her back where her bra strap would normally fall. Hermione stiffened as she realized what had gotten his attention. "Umm, this wasn't planned. I meant to get dressed appropriately before getting up. They hurt to sleep in, you know."
Malfoy cleared his throat, and his finger slid absently down her back, inspiring goosebumps on Hermione's arms. "I can imagine," Malfoy said. He leaned away a moment, and then Hermione found her school robe draped around her front, leaving her back open. "Relax, Granger. I know you weren't getting undressed for me." He returned his hands to her back and hesitated. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked softly.
Hermione shivered at the proximity of his voice. Logically, she knew she should tell him to stop and let her sleep before she got any more entangled with him. She had been lonely for a long time, however, and his touch felt so very nice. Ginny was the only one she really had physical contact with lately, and Ginny wasn't, well… Ginny wasn't a man. Perhaps for this one night, Hermione could allow herself to indulge. After all, a back massage wasn't something to feel guilty about, was it? This didn't mean anything. It was a matter of practical comfort and pain relief.
"Granger?" Malfoy said, and Hermione realized she hadn't answered him.
Hermione knew this shouldn't be a big deal, but her cheeks still burned, and her nerves felt like a current was running between them when she answered him. "I could use more instruction," she said. Her voice sounded pathetic to her, and she hugged herself under her robe, warding herself against teasing or backlash.
Malfoy exhaled softly behind her and returned to work, gently but firmly making his way down the rest of her back. When he found a knot, he took extra time to work it out, and then he moved on. Hermione found herself wondering when Malfoy had cause to learn how to give massages. He was far better than Harry and Ron at it. Of course, Harry would get distracted five ways during the process, and Ron just never made a proper effort. Ginny had good technique, at least, but Malfoy's larger hands definitely felt better on her back. Had the hands belonged to anyone other than Malfoy, she probably could have closed her eyes and forgotten where she was. As it stood, she was far too aware of Malfoy for that to happen.
After Malfoy reached the base of her back, he flattened his hands over her shirt and ran them up her back to her shoulders and back down to the base of her back. "Any questions?" he asked her, leaving his hands resting lightly on her hips.
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Thank you. I think I understand what to do now," she added after recalling the premise under which they had agreed for him to massage her.
"Glad to hear it," he said. He took a deep breath, scooted away to a respectable distance on the bed, and sighed. "If you intend to stay, I have something to help you." Hermione frowned, narrowed her eyes, and twisted to look behind her at Malfoy, wondering what he was up to now. His expression was open, and if anything, he seemed a little embarrassed. "Well, you can't exactly help my back if you're worried about revealing yourself the whole time. You'll need your hands free." He grabbed his wand and pointed it at his wardrobe. "Accio Quidditch shirt," he said. The wardrobe doors flew open, and a green Quidditch shirt flew out to him. He caught it with his free hand and offered it to Hermione. "It's from sixth year, so it should be a better fit than my other clothes. It's… less thin and white than your blouse, and should be more comfortable to sleep in as well. No buttons, after all."
Hermione gaped at him. She had never seen him stammering like he was now, but she couldn't just accept his shirt for sleeping. That was something couples did, and she and Malfoy weren't like that at all. Furthermore, Malfoy had no private bathroom. Hermione blushed. "I couldn't. Where would I get changed?"
Malfoy scoffed and his eyes went wide, looking much more like the usual mocking Malfoy she was familiar with. "I am capable of turning away and closing my eyes, Granger, but failing that, you can always step into the hallway or another room. Do recall that I am the only person here who can see you. You could prance about the Great Hall stark naked while I was down here and no one would know about it."
Hermione's blush deepened, and Malfoy rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be so stubborn, Granger." He found the neck hole of the shirt and shoved it over her head without ceremony. "You helped me a lot with the letters. I'm just showing my thanks." He shrugged. "It's not like we have to worry about anyone else ever knowing you wore it, if that's what you're worried about."
"Right," Hermione said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. She pulled his shirt down over her torso, slipped off the robe underneath, and proceeded to unbutton her blouse there too. Malfoy watched with an easy curiosity, but he couldn't see anything more than the motions of her hands through his Quidditch shirt, so she didn't think much of it. When the blouse was fully removed underneath, she then pushed her arms through the shorts sleeves of the Quidditch shirt. The cursed bracelet jingled as it fell down her left arm to her wrist, surprising her. She had forgotten it was there. "Right. I should put my clothes away, I suppose," she muttered. She climbed off the bed, stretched her arms and back, and moved her blouse and robe to his desk, neatly folding each item on the way. She wiped her hands on her skirt after and eyed her neat pile of clothes stacked next to their two neat piles of fake letters. "There. That's better," she said and turned to face him.
"Happy to hear it," he said with little sincerity. "Not to be rude, Granger, but my neck still really hurts. Do you mind?"
Hermione closed her eyes in frustration at his snotty tone, but she shook her head. He had helped her with her back and provided her a more appropriate shirt to sleep in. "Lie back down. I'll do what I can."
"Thanks, Granger." Malfoy crawled back on his stomach under the duvet, leaving it pulled back just below his waistline. He had dark green pajama pants on instead of his usual school pants, and Hermione found herself wondering when he had changed them. She must have been asleep. Apparently she had not been the only one desperate for comfort.
Climbing onto a bed that contained a waiting Malfoy was even more nerve-wracking than her previous venture into his bed. She had agreed to help him, however, and she refused to give him room to call her a coward again. Hermione took a deep breath, exhaled, and crawled back onto the bed and into position on Malfoy's back to massage him. The relatively cooler skin of his back made contact with the skin of her much warmer inner thigh, and she squeaked in alarm before quickly adjusting her skirts to block further skin-on-skin intimacy. "Sorry," she muttered and risked a glance at his reaction. His head was twisted sideways to look back at her, but his expression did not reveal his thoughts. Mortified, Hermione set to work on his neck, attempting to mimic the massage he had given her.
The hair at the nape of his neck was much softer than she had expected. Of course, he was overdue a haircut by her standards, so she supposed it made sense that she would not feel the bristled texture of a freshly shaven cut, but it surprised her all the same. Soft was not a word she had associated with Malfoy before. His neck was strong, warm, and firm under her hands, though she could feel how tense his muscles were. The entire area was practically one giant knot, far worse than anything she had worked free for Ginny. She tried to dig into it the same way he had dug into her knots, but she rather suspected she was doing it wrong when he flinched underneath her with each attempt.
"Maybe you should just move on," Malfoy said after a couple minutes of enduring her failed attempts to work free the knotted mass of muscle.
Hermione blushed. "I am trying now," she said, mortified that she couldn't do more to help him. "Your back is in really bad shape, Malfoy. Maybe Madam Pomfrey…"
"No," he said, cutting her off. "I can't let anyone else know I'm suffering. The curse is the only reason I'm letting you find out. You couldn't talk if you wanted."
Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "I don't think getting proper help for your back will have any repercussions other than your back not hurting, Malfoy." Frowning, she tried to tackle the knotted mass of the muscles on his left shoulder. "How did it get this bad? How long have you been like this?"
Malfoy ignored her questions. "Image is everything for old wizarding blood, Granger. You're muggleborn. Of course, you don't get it," Malfoy grumbled.
Hermione snorted. "First off, your back is likely the least of problems where your image is concerned. Second off, Madam Pomfrey keeps her mouth shut. You wouldn't believe the number of mortifying things she's fixed for Harry, Ron, and me, and she's never said a word to another soul."
Malfoy twisted up and partially on his side to look at her better, nearly dislodging Hermione in the process. "Like what?" he asked. "And how do you know she didn't speak to anyone?"
Hermione readjusted her seat and skirts and smirked at him. "For all that Snape was an excellent professor, he was incredibly childish when it came to teasing Harry, Ron, and myself. There is no way he would have passed up the opportunity to allude to our hospital incidents had he known."
"Hmm," Malfoy said with a thoughtful expression. "She never did let on that my injury from that hippogriff was completely healed before I ever left the hospital wing."
"I knew it!" Hermione exclaimed and moved to thump his lower back soundly for his former cheek. The curse intervened, however, and Hermione found her arm sliding forward on a pocket of air and carrying her with it. "Oof," she grumbled as she landed with her face pressed against the spot where Malfoy's neck met the back of his shoulder. Malfoy crashed back down on his belly with his head facing the same side Hermione's head was pressed against.
"Not that I'm necessarily against having a reasonably attractive witch throw herself at me, but what on earth, Granger?"
Hermione turned her head to the side and spat out the hair that had gotten lodged in her mouth during her fall. "Stupid curse. Was trying to hit you. Fell instead," Hermione muttered without bothering to get up. She was exhausted, he made for an oddly comfortable mattress, and she didn't feel like humiliating herself quite yet by tumbling off him. Her brow furrowed as she realized everything he had said. "You think I'm attractive?"
"Your figure is decent, your skin is mostly unblemished, and while your hair resembles an owl nest, at least it's clean and smells nice. Only real problem is your loud mouth and your tendency to ask endless questions," Malfoy said with such an aloof voice Hermione knew he was trying to annoy her.
Hermione pulled her arm back to whack him again, but stopped herself. The curse wouldn't let her cause him harm, even superficial harm, clearly, as her attempt to hit him was not meant to actually hurt him. Her options for retaliation were limited. She supposed she could probably get away with tickling him, but did she really want to go there with Malfoy?
"What? Not going to punch me like you did in third year?" Malfoy goaded, half laughing under her. His chest rumbled beneath her.
Hermione scowled. That settled it. She was determined to put him back in his place. If tickling was the only way to do that, then so be it. Hermione carefully lowered her arms until her hands were casually placed on either side of his ribs. "Malfoy, would you happen to be ticklish?" she asked him innocently. She waited to see his eyes widen in horror, and she struck, dancing her fingertips across the sensitive flesh over his ribs.
Malfoy contorted beneath her as he burst into uncontrollable laughter. Within moments, he heaved himself up, knocking Hermione off sideways onto her back, and jumped on top of her hips, effectively pinning her in place. Hermione sat upright into him, fully intending to tickle him into falling off of her, but he grabbed her wrists before she could make contact, pinning the bracelet under his hand. He gasped for his breath, resisting each of her attempts to free herself, and looked down at her. "You're going to pay for that, you witch," he said with a stony face. He carefully folded her arms against her chest and pushed on her wrists until she was flat on her back below him.
No amount of jerking could break his iron grip, and Hermione's heart pounded in her throat when he then stretched her arms over her head. He took a moment to tuck her bracelet further out-of-the-way up her arm and then pinned both of her wrists under his left hand, leaving his right hand free. How angry had she made him? She had been so focused on getting even with his taunts that she had forgotten Malfoy wasn't actually one of her friends. "What are you going to do?" she asked, terrified.
His eyes returned to her face, and his stony expression melted to reveal concerned amusement as he saw her fear. "Relax, Granger. Nothing so dire, but turnabout is fair play," he said. Hermione's fear faded to annoyed apprehension as she realized Malfoy only intended to tickle her back, and Malfoy's smile widened into a genuine grin. "Ready?" he asked her.
"Of course not," Hermione responded, frustrated that he had so quickly gotten the better of her. "Is this absolutely necessary?"
Malfoy chuckled, and his eyes gleamed. "Completely," he said in a quiet voice. "You reap what you sow, Granger." He placed his free hand over her shirt at the base of her ribs and dug in.
Hermione exploded in laughter, twisting underneath Malfoy as he held her in place. "Not fair!" she wheezed when he paused to let her catch her breath. He chuckled and tickled her more, merciless in his assault as his hand danced across to each side and her belly. "Not fair!" she cried again when he paused next.
"Not fair, Granger? Didn't you start this battle?" he chided, his own voice laced with amusement.
"I didn't intend to lose it," she fussed. Her pride smarted, though she couldn't help smiling at the childlike delight Malfoy had taken in their ridiculous tickle fight. She had never seen Malfoy like this. "Can you let me go now?" she asked as her breath began to even out.
"I would, Granger, but you did attack me first, and I haven't heard an apology yet," he hinted.
Hermione glared at him. She was not about to apologize for retaliating to his teasing in the only physical way she had left to her.
Malfoy's eyes gleamed, and his smirk deepened as if she had just taken the bait he was waiting on. He grabbed his wand, cast a spell to lock her arms in position, and brought his left hand down to join his right. "Are you sure, Granger?" he asked her, waggling all ten of his fingers above her. Hermione swallowed hard in fear, and he attacked with both hands.
Tears trailed down her cheeks as she laughed and squirmed in his grasp. She couldn't get her legs free while he sat on her hips, and the spell held her wrists too firmly for her to do more than arch her back and move her head. She briefly had the idea to try and bite him, but she knew the curse would stop her. She could try wandless magic, but without her breath she was just as likely to set the room on fire as stop him. Pride stinging, she admitted defeat. "I'm sorry!" she cried out the second he next paused.
"Are you certain?" Malfoy asked, bouncing his eyebrows at her. "I could always tickle you more…"
"I'm sorry," Hermione said firmly in between gasps for breath.
"Shame. I suppose we should sleep, but I was rather enjoying myself," he said lightly as he released her wrists with a flick of his wand and climbed off of her.
Groaning, Hermione pulled her arms down and rubbed her wrists and arms. The bracelet jingled all the while, adding to the irritation she already felt at having lost the tickle battle. A different kind of frustration coursed through her as well. She might have been too short-of-breath to appreciate it properly at the time, but the memory of having a shirtless Draco Malfoy straddling her and running his hands along her sensitive belly and ribs definitely inspired an oozy warmth somewhere deep in her pelvis. She frowned. She was definitely thinking too much about Malfoy.
Malfoy yawned next to her. "Now, can I trust you to let me rest without terrorizing me? Or do I need to hex you with a bodybind to get a proper nap in before classes start? Wait, hold on." He grabbed his wand and aimed it at her face. "Scourgify," he said, vanishing the tears and snot from her face. "Don't want you messing up my clothes or bed."
Hermione sighed at the reminder of how shallow Malfoy could be. Every time she thought they might be growing closer together, he said something that reminded her of what an utter prat he could be. She was beginning to wonder if he did it on purpose. Wouldn't surprise her. Stupid snake. "I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone," she said.
"Deal," Malfoy responded. "Move over though. I like that spot," he added.
Hermione rolled her eyes, scooted further to the other side of the bed, and curled up on her side so that she faced away from Malfoy. He was clearly done with her for now, and yet, he hadn't asked her to leave. She even had a niggling feeling that he would come up with an excuse for her to stay if she tried to go. "Isn't it strange that we're both okay with this?" she asked him after a moment, trying to put words to what was happening between them.
"It's late, Granger," Malfoy said in a voice that was already heavy with sleep.
Hermione frowned. Her mind buzzed with everything that had happened. She had no idea what she felt about Malfoy now, and the very thought of trying to explain even half of this to her friends filled her with dread. For the first time since Hermione discovered that she could learn to communicate via morse code, she wondered if she might be happier keeping her silence until she learned how to break the curse.
For the record, I did one total rewrite of this chapter and about 5 sets of edits to get this exactly where I wanted for pace, teasing, etc. I'm not saying you have to review, but... gimme some love, k? It means a lot, and thank you.
If you notice Hermione's bracelet appearing a lot more in this chapter, I had somehow forgotten about it the last 2-3 chapters despite the entire bloody fanfic being named after it. I'm impressive like that. It's now written in all caps at the top of my personal notes for this fanfic.
This fanfic now has a fanfic! User imranramji1 wrote me asking if they do an alternative "darker and sexier" telling of the Cursed Bracelet where I'm still credited as the original, and I said sure, why not? It's all fanfiction! You can find their story by searching for "Darker Fic: Cursed Bracelet" or clicking there through my profile page where links are actually allowed.
Chapter 20 has been started, but not finished. Eep! I've not let y'all down yet on these Friday updates, and I don't plan to now. If I do end up missing next week's update due to who knows what, I will update my profile page with what's going on so you're not left wondering.