I hope everyone is staying safe and staying away from people. Wash your hands, hunker down, look after each other, stay home unless you absolutely have to leave and we'll get through this!
Huge thanks to my Alpha/Betas NuclearNik and Monica03, without them I would be a mess and this story would be a disaster. Also a huge thanks to my Omegas (pre-readers) MarshmallowMcGonagall and QuinTalon!
To everyone who reads, subscribes, bookmarks, comments/reviews, follows, reblogs, likes, etc: I appreciate you all SO VERY MUCH. With the length of my chapters and the editing process, it leaves little time to come back and interact (I'll still try, however!). I promise though, all of it makes me go starry eyed and flail about every single time.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The first thing Hermione registered was that it was dim and cool. Secondarily, there was something around her neck, and her hand was ensconced in two large, warm, familiar ones. Where was she? What happened?
"I think she's waking up."
"You don't say," a voice drawled.
Draco.
What were he and Harry doing here? Wherever here was.
She slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the bleariness from being put under. It took a second to regain her bearings but once she did, her gaze drifted to the two wizards on either side of her bed. She made to turn her head but found she was unable to look in any direction aside from straight ahead. Her hand shot to her neck and felt the thick brace. Experimentally, she wiggled her toes and sighed in relief at being able to move again.
Harry's forehead was scrunched, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and a frown pulling at his mouth. He'd worn that expression before in Fifth Year after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. They'd relegated her to the hospital wing for weeks thanks to Dolohov's curse, and more than once she'd woken up to the sight of Harry sitting at her bedside, looking much the same as he did now. He blamed himself then for her injury, and she wondered if he did so now as well.
Her eyes shifted to Draco. He was calm and steadily watching her, And a sense of peace settled in her. He was here, so it was going to be okay. She realized that didn't make sense in a logical manner, but instinctively she knew it to be fact.
"How do you feel?" Draco murmured.
"Like I've been trampled by a Skrewt."
"Do you remember what happened?"
"Where am I?"
"St. Mungo's," Harry intoned.
"Oh." Her lips pressed together as she rummaged around in her thoughts. A flash of the ground rushing up to meet her followed by a sickening crack filled her mind and she cringed. "I must have fallen."
"What else?" Draco asked.
Why had she been up high? She didn't fly unless she absolutely couldn't help it. She certainly didn't like to climb trees or stray close to ledges. She chased after the thread, pushing through the terror of the memory to what happened before. Finally, something gave way and… Oh. "There was a trap I got caught in. I followed a trail from the crime scene Justin and I were investigating and the next thing I knew, I was upside down. My wand was lying in the grass, and I couldn't summon it. Colin tried to get to me, but something was keeping him out. I sent him away to get help. Justin was panicking when he couldn't initially get me down. He must have finally found something that worked… Wait, where's my wand?" Her heart began to pound.
One of the hands left her but for a moment, then the familiar handle of her wand pressed into her palm. She curled her fingers loosely around it and the wood warmed against her skin, as if waking up, and she calmed again before laying it across her lap. Draco's hands enveloped hers again almost immediately.
"Do you remember anything after?"
She thought for a few moments before it came back to her in a haze. "I remember not being able to move. It was like I'd been Stupefied. The last thing I remember happening is something was coming. Justin kept looking at the woods while he was trying to find his Portkey. I heard something rustling… then we were here."
The hands holding hers trembled before he clenched his jaw and stilled again.
Ah, so he wasn't as collected as he let on.
"Draco. Where's Justin?"
"Not quite sure." He glanced to the corner of the room.
"Draco! What'd you do to him?"
"Let's just say that there's a reason he's suspended for a month," Harry chimed in.
Hermione's mouth fell open, and she watched as Draco glared across the bed, fury dancing in his eyes.
"Fine," he spat through his teeth. "When I found out he let you get hurt, I may have lost my temper and let loose some wandless magic by accident. It's not like I stood over him, pointed my wand in his face, and Crucioed him. He's being obliviated. Won't remember a single thing after he was recalled to the department."
"I was going to jest that you not murder him but now I feel the need to insist on it," Hermione muttered.
"I thought he'd paralyzed you. Ruined your life as you knew it. There's nothing that would've stopped me had you died while in his care." Draco swallowed and looked away from her again, his fingers trembling momentarily once more.
"He's not my keeper. I'm responsible for myself." Her thumb stroked along his.
Overwhelming awe encompassed her. Never had she had someone so ready to act with such severity on her behalf. She would be a hypocrite to chastise him, though. Hermione would Crucio into the floor anyone who hurt him, which didn't make the slightest bit of sense seeing as their whole evolving relationship had only been going on for not even a year.
"Actually Justin was responsible for you, regardless of if you realized it. Like it or not, you're under the care and guard of your assigned Auror. It's the main reason we escort investigators," Harry said.
"I thought it was to do things like crowd control and preservation of the scene, or if a perpetrator reappeared."
"That's part of it, but the main thing is to keep Investigators safe. Didn't Robards explain that?"
"No. He outlined my job after I accepted his offer and turned me over to my trainer."
The two men looked at one another and were silent for a moment, coming to some sort of unspoken agreement that made Hermione want to squirm.
Perhaps a subject change was in order before they developed too many plans. "When do I get to go home?"
Draco's attention returned to her. "A month."
"Excuse me? I'm certain I didn't hear you right. I thought you said a month."
He simply looked at her, and her heart sank. How was it that magic wasn't able to fix this as rapidly as most other things? What was she going to do for a whole month from this bed?
"They'll let you stay with Draco soon, or you could always stay with Ginny and me then go to the Burrow during the day since both Molly and Fleur are always there," Harry said.
"No, Potter. She's not going to The Hovel. She's coming home with me. I'm suspended for a month and I have not only the time but the help for tasks that'd be inappropriate for me to assist her with."
"It's the Burrow—"
"I'm going home by myself! Surely there's some way I can get myself discharged..." Her eyes narrowed in the direction of her covered feet. Harry and Draco ignored her statement to continue their bickering.
"I don't care what you call it, Potter, she's not going there."
Right, because she was going home to her own house where she would stay on her own couch and catch up on her reading. And possibly some spell development. Maybe some charm work. She didn't want to say it aloud, but she wasn't entirely comfortable going to the Burrow after the attitude Molly had adapted towards her after Hermione suggested therapy for the family. She'd been kind enough the last time she'd been injured, but Molly had still possessed that edge she'd adopted during conversation after Hermione suggested therapy for the distraught family over a year ago.
"—besides, Robards is expecting her to come home with me. She won't even be able to reach over her head for at least a week."
Wait, what?
"Excuse me?"
The two men were leaning towards each other across her bed from their seated positions, moments from springing up into each other's faces. At her interjection into the argument she'd stopped paying attention to, they both seemed to remember she was there and glanced over to her.
"Erm, what Malfoy meant was that Robards brought us here because he was summoned and we were both listed as your emergency contacts. When the Healer told us about your condition—"
"Which I still know nothing about aside that I can't move my head because of this brace—"
"—Malfoy volunteered to look after you, since he was suspended, unofficially, for a month."
"I can speak for myself, Potter." Draco's lip curled in that familiar sneer, his grip on her tightening infinitesimally.
Before Hermione could interrupt them, the same elderly Healer that had put her under when she'd arrived came through the door.
"Finally awake I see." His kind eyes and gentle demeanor had a funny way of putting her at ease. "You were lucky. Just a hair's breadth further, and you'd be paralyzed from the neck down permanently. Magic can only mend so much, after all."
He explained the bones she broke and the damage inflicted on her spinal cord, and how if they'd taken any longer to get there, she may not have regained potentially full range of motion.
"Potentially full range of motion?"
"Oh yes, nothing is guaranteed. However, if you follow your discharge instructions to the letter, take your potions, and do the prescribed at-home exercises when it's appropriate to do them, your likelihood of returning to normal is quite high. You'll need help. Something as simple as a small fall could inflict enough damage to put you right back to where you were when you got here."
"Quite high" didn't equate to a guarantee. She flexed her toes and thought about how she'd previously been unable to feel them, let alone move them. She had a strange longing for the hospital in France. Maybe she should go home with Draco after all. The thought of not being able to feel his hand in hers, on her waist, or being unable to have a normal meal with him made her heart thunder behind her breastbone. Being unable to be self-sufficient was equally terrifying. Would she even be able to practice magic at all if she was rendered a paraplegic? She'd never seen anyone disabled to that extent yet in the Wizarding World, and she was afraid to find out firsthand.
As if he was able to understand the extent of her newfound terror, Draco's fingers stroked along her skin in a soothing pattern, inspiring her system to calm back down. He was here; it was going to be okay. She took a deep breath and looked over to see his brows furrowed; she wanted to pull her hand from his to smooth it. Perhaps she could shelve her stubbornness this one time.
"I have a letter to discharge you into the care of the Malfoy family doctor, if you're amenable. Mister Malfoy has already agreed to be your caretaker during this delicate time of healing. All you need is to sign a few forms, and we'll work on getting your prescription submitted to the apothecary and get your papers together for discharge into his care. Is this what you want?"
What she wanted was to go home, but it wouldn't be the first time in her life that what she wanted juxtaposed with what she needed. Besides, staying with Draco meant she got to see him more than just at lunchtime every day and as he popped in and out of his office.
"Yes."
While Draco didn't give any visible indications, she could tell somehow he was both pleased and relieved she didn't put up a fight. Harry, on the other hand, seemed resigned. Odd. She expected him to throw a fit after the way he'd been behaving before today. She'd have to do some digging because when Harry got stuck on something, he was like a dog with a bone.
"I'll be right back then."
It was silent in the room for all of a minute before Harry disrupted it.
"When you get back, you'll be permanently paired."
Fear trickled down the back of her neck like a cold sweat. "With whom?"
She'd seen the Ministry do some blatantly stupid things before and dreaded to hear the answer. Harry would be tolerable because they had half a lifetime of trust established between them. If it was with Justin, she would quit. She didn't know what was going on with the Hufflepuff as of late, but he'd been behaving strangely, bungling things that should have been so simple. If they didn't have ways to actively detect the Imperious Curse now, she'd suspect that. She'd have to give it more thought later.
"With me," Draco said.
She relaxed into the bed as the dread drained from her limbs. She should be disappointed that it wasn't with Harry but couldn't find an ounce of it anywhere. Something else to ruminate on later.
Moments later the mediwitch bustled in with a stack of forms going over the injury she incurred, the procedures they performed, the medications that had been submitted to the apothecary along with the instructions for their use, and a note that the physician they were discharging her to would oversee any physical therapy needed. She touched each indicated line with her wand and watched as her signature slithered across the page in gold ink that faded to black.
As the mediwitch left to retrieve a wheelchair, Hermione noticed a bag at the foot of the bed. A wand twitch later had it in her grasp, and she finally pulled her hand from Draco's to open it. Inside were her personal effects, including her handbag that she'd turned into a brooch for the day. Her uniform was neatly sliced into pieces where they'd had to remove it.
It made the situation that much more real, and she knew if she'd been alone she'd be having a meltdown. She'd save that for later while in the bath and behind the privacy of silencing charms.
"It's going to be alright."
It was no surprise that Harry could see how distraught she was despite doing her best to cover it up.
She ignored him and pulled the bag out, enlarging it back to its normal size. She didn't feel like struggling with much but knew she had a few simple dresses tucked away. Hermione unzipped the hidden compartment and summoned up a simple, light blue dress that fell to her calves. When the mediwitch returned, she shooed the two wizards from the room and helped Hermione change into the frock. Normally it would be too chilly to wear at this time of year when the leaves were giving up and falling to join their fellows on the ground, but they were only going to the Floo to leave.
She hadn't realized how drugged she was until the nurse had helped her stand, then kept hold of her to keep Hermione from tipping over. Once seated in the chair, her companions were allowed to return. Before the mediwitch left them to go arrange her take-home medicines, she gave her three foul-tasting vials to drink, and Hermione felt herself immediately relax into the seat.
Draco stared for a moment at her sock covered feet before transfiguring his cufflinks into a pair of sleek, fur-lined slippers that he put on her feet before she could protest. He shucked his uniform coat and tucked it securely around her before taking the handles and sedately steering her towards the exit. They only stopped at the mediwitch's station to collect the potions that would tide her over until they could get to the apothecary.
Harry walked along beside her, and she reached over and clasped his hand on a whim. For the first time since waking, a grin curled his mouth, and he shot her a quick wink. She wanted to peek back at Draco but knew the brace would hinder the motion too much. It was surreal to hear the two most important men in her life talking quietly despite their spat earlier. The trip was quiet, yet quick, but it confused her as they headed for the exit rather than the Floo. It must have shown on her face because Draco spoke up from behind her.
"Magical travel is off the table unless it's life or death. Too much pressure from Portkey and Apparition, too much jostling from the Floo."
Then how would they get there? She ruled out broom travel, but maybe they'd gotten a pass from the Ministry to use a flying carpet? Her brain ground to a halt once they got outside into the chilly autumn air and saw a car idling at the curb. She mechanically went along as they helped ease her into the back seat. Harry leaned across her to buckle her lap belt and took the opportunity to kiss her forehead. It felt as if he was transferring her from his care to Draco's.
"Owl me when you get settled in, dove. Abide by your restrictions, and for once in your life, take it easy for a while. It'll all be there when you get back." Harry raised his eyebrows at her imploringly.
"I'll do my best, Harry. I promise."
He nodded, satisfied and knowing that was the only answer he would be getting.
The trunk shut and moments later Draco joined her in the car, buckling his own belt as if he'd done it a thousand times. He picked up her hand and they were off. She curled her fingers around his, absently noting the lack of her usual strength as she sedately watched traffic go by.
Thoughts floated in and out of her mind like dandelion puffs on the breeze thanks to the drugs, and she barely noted the time slipping by until the city ran out and they were heading out into the countryside. Her eyes drifted to his, and her lips curled up at the corners as she squeezed his fingers gently. He brushed the ring on her finger with a featherlight caress and though she was sure it would mortify her later, she gave a contented sigh.
Soon, thoughts and time became hard to keep hold of, and she passed the time having small staring contests with him when he caught her examining the planes of his face and spent the rest of the time watching the countryside zoom by.
It could have been thirty minutes or three hours for all she knew before they turned down a long, winding cobblestone driveway that took them through a forest, granting the estate its privacy. It felt like forever before they broke through the treeline and finally, she laid eyes on Draco's home. It was a massive, sand-colored, stone manor house. She speculated it would have looked castle-like had it been gray.
She was belatedly curious about the driveway, but before she could ask, his fingers had already slid from hers and he was getting out of the car. The trunk opened, and in the quiet she could hear him unfolding the wheelchair. Her fingers fumbled with the seatbelt buckle until it finally gave, popping free and zooming across her waist to fall back into its home before she could grasp the belt.
She didn't know why he was messing with the chair. If nothing else, he could have just levitated her inside. Her thoughts halted as he opened her door and the soothing scent of him rushed in on the breeze. With one hand on her waist and the other grasping hers, he guided her gently into the chair again. He took a moment to lean inside the front passenger window, likely to slip the driver a tip before she realized she'd never even gotten a look at the person. Itnever even crossed her mind to see who had been driving them. As they watched the car pull away, she supposed it didn't really matter.
Draco took up his post at the handles again and began rolling her past lush foliage and flowers along a stone path that took them around the massive house to an expansive back patio where there were open doors awaiting them. They went through a large conservatory that contained an array of vegetables and herbs into a gorgeous kitchen full of Muggle appliances. She idly wondered if he even knew how to work any of them or was even able to make a grilled cheese.
The idea of the simple sandwich made her realize that she was starving. She wondered what they would be doing for lunches now that she couldn't cook for a while and they couldn't travel to Diagon Alley at the drop of a hat. She didn't have to wonder long as they entered a cozy breakfast area with a small round table with one chair missing. There were two place settings covered with dome lids. Once he got her settled in her place, he took the seat to her right.
They spread their napkins in their laps before he withdrew her wand and laid it next to her silverware. She stared at the thin strip of wood as he vanished the coverings, having forgotten that he'd had it. The smell caught her attention, and she sucked in a breath as she saw what had lay underneath. Tomato soup and grilled cheese were on the menu for lunch today.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she noticed Draco looking mildly alarmed until she snagged his hand and squeezed it as much as she was able.
"Thank you."
She supposed she now had one of the answers as to what they'd been talking about while she'd been under. Her mum had always made this for her when she felt unwell and despite the twinge of sadness at the reminder that her mum was no longer around to take care of her, the warmth that flared at his thoughtfulness overpowered the rest.
Lunch was largely quiet as always. She wondered who'd made the soup and sandwiches. It obviously wasn't Draco since he'd been with her from when they'd alerted him and Harry that she was in St. Mungo's, so it was probably some house-elves. He'd have to have them or some hired help to keep a home this size running in proper order.
After they were finished, he took her back the way they came and out onto a veranda overlooking the back garden. He parked her next to a set of thickly padded patio chairs and settled into one next to her.
"Draco?"
He tensed as his eyes drifted over to her. She wondered what he was anticipating. Maybe an endless series of questions over who kept his house and likely hostility if he confirmed that he did have house-elves.
"How long do I have to be in this?" She tapped the arm of the chair.
From her experience of moving from the bed to the chair back at the hospital, walking wasn't going to be a safe activity and falling would be disastrous. The thought of one little mishap rendering her unable to move had her fingers clenching the skirting of her dress. She bet he expected her to fight him on using the chair. Her tenacity for being independent was legendary.
He licked his lips. "Until you're off the strongest set of potions. Probably a week to a week and a half."
That seemed like an overly long time. Harry regrew an entire arm of bones overnight in their Second Year. "I thought broken bones only took a couple of days to come back right."
"Normally they do, but it wasn't just your bones that were damaged. Your spinal cord was also affected, which was why you were paralyzed after the fall. Even with the delicate process of regrowing the bones in your neck, your muscles are still damaged and weak. It may seem like overkill, but the risk is too great to do otherwise. Even the smallest thing could mean permanent damage. The sort that would mean you would never get out of that chair again on your own." He paused to close his eyes, take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. His eyes had darkened when he looked at her again and she could only imagine the thoughts running through his head.
She would never have dreamed Draco Malfoy would ever be this distraught over her for any reason.
Suddenly she was even more grateful that she was being permanently partnered with Draco. As much as she liked Justin, she'd never be able to trust him again in a working environment. Draco would make her stop when necessary, he would watch over her despite any annoyance it may incur in the moment.
He looked back over the expansive lawn as his fist clenched atop his thigh. She knew his building anger wasn't directed at her, but she hated to see him this upset. The potions lowered her inhibitions, she noticed, as she moved her hand over to slither it underneath his fist. He took another breath and opened his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together to complete the coupling. Normally she wouldn't be so forward to invade his space, but maybe it was finally an appropriate time to do so. Maybe they were even ready to move on to something beyond the delicate grasp of hands, touches on the arm or waist, or the way he led her with his warm palm pressed against the small of her back.
She covertly watched as his eyes took in where her palm was resting, and if she didn't know better, she'd say he was pleased.
"What were you thinking about?" she murmured.
The sense of him being pleased faded and simmering anger reappeared once again.
"The events that led up to you being in St. Mungo's with a badly broken neck and nearly dead," he said.
He crossed his legs at the knee and transferred her hand to his other so hers was sandwiched in his once again. He shifted his weight towards her as he rested his elbow on the chair arm between them and, he studied her as he decided on his next question.
"Did you really think we were going to let you go home by yourself?" he finally asked.
Hermione shrugged. "I've taken care of everyone else for so long, it's what I default to. What I expected was some protesting, then finally some help home after I didn't give in because that's how it's always been. Molly would have sent over food, and I would have had visitors to check on me, but I would largely have been left to my own devices."
It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't even thought about parsing or bending the truth even to stem his anger, and she couldn't help but wonder why that was. It wasn't in her nature to lie if it wasn't an extreme circumstance, but she wasn't always so forthcoming either. A polite, downplayed version of the situation was more her style.
She met his eyes, and it was obvious he was displeased even though he'd yet to utter a single word.
"Those days are gone," he declared in a low voice. "You're worth more than that. You should be taken care of. Looked after. Cherished."
She could tell he was mildly uncomfortable with his utterances, but he didn't seem to be about to take them back, nor would she ask him to. That would be the equivalent of brushing off how he felt about her. Maybe he felt that saying such things was going too fast for her. It wasn't. She brought their hands to her mouth where she kissed across his knuckles and nuzzled her cheek against them before placing them back in his lap.
"I have one request."
A blond eyebrow rose. "What's that?"
"You can't go around threatening or cursing people over me."
"It's not a threat if I'm detailing what I'll do to them if they hurt you or allow you to be harmed, darling."
"Promise me, Draco, that you will maintain your temper. You don't need to get fired, or worse, imprisoned over losing your temper on my behalf. You can't protect me from Azkaban."
"Cheating," he whispered as his fingers disentangled from hers to stroke along each digit.
Perhaps she was, but she'd do what she had to to keep him safe as well.
The silence stretched on until he finally sighed. "Fine, I promise not to intentionally harm anyone or do anything that will risk my liberty. Happy?"
"Very. Thank you." She gave him a warm smile, and he grunted and went back to watching as he traced his fingertips along her skin.
They sat outside until it was time for more potions and tea. He sat a line of vials in front of her while he prepared her drink and a small plate of snacks he knew she liked. She downed each of them like a good patient and chased the bitterness away with a long sip of tea as soon as he gave her the cup.
Her ability to think and focus that had come back over the course of the afternoon was now slipping through her fingers like water. Draco kept her entertained, telling her about his mother's recent adventures now that she'd convinced Andromeda to go on trips with her, to get out of England and see the world. He was careful not to say anything too funny, knowing that it would jostle her and be painful.
He stayed glued to her for the rest of the day until after dinner when he finally took her to her rooms that were across the hall from his own.
There he introduced her to his two house-elves, Bumble and Bee. While Hermione had never stopped desiring the freedom of all magical beings, she'd realized it was a more complex situation than she'd originally understood and perhaps her starting methodology wasn't the best course of action. She realized that it needed to be something they chose; otherwise, it was just another thing being forced on them. She'd long been corresponding with the Head of the Department of Magical Creatures on some simple legislation that made it to where a house-elf was no longer forcibly bound to a family or an owner but had the ability to choose who they served. If nothing else, it gave an out to house-elves tied to abusive families.
The two small elves were dressed in clean butter-yellow togas fashioned from expensive looking tea towels with a black "M" embroidered in script in the corners. They both seemed sane, unlike Kreacher who still lived with Harry and Ginny and who still muttered to himself, often in third person. They seemed healthy and happy, unlike Dobby who'd so obviously been abused by Lucius. She smiled kindly at them as Draco explained they would be helping her with things he couldn't like changing clothes and showering.
"I'll let you get settled in." He kissed her forehead and closed the door behind himself as he left.
"Would Miss like a shower?" Bee squeaked.
"Yes, please." A shower would be amazing. She'd been magically cleaned after she'd been worked on by the medical staff at St. Mungo's but it didn't feel the same as actual bathing.
They'd spent most of the afternoon outside and the smell of the outdoors had soaked into her dress and hair, but every now and then she'd get a whiff of St. Mungo's. She hadn't asked, but she had a feeling Draco had used influence or galleons or both to get her released into the care of the family doctor.
She'd stared at the bathtub longingly as they rolled her past it, and she couldn't wait until she was able to take a long, hot bath again. The shower was taken from a chair in an enormous shower stall in her ensuite. Despite the discomfort of having two elves helping her disrobe, move her to the chair, and wash her hair for her, it was worth it to feel properly scrubbed.
Afterwards, Bee braided her hair into a long, simple plait after they helped dress her into a sleeveless, thick cotton nightgown that fell to her knees. It was cream with a playful pink ruffle sewn to the bottom and comfortably roomy. They'd also tucked her into a matching pink and cream robe and slipped thickly padded matching slippers on her feet. It was absurdly warm and comfortable. They put every single pair of pajamas she had to shame. Absently, she hoped Draco had gotten his cufflinks back despite how enjoyable the previous pair of slippers had been.
She'd wanted to protest, wanted to send the elves to her home and collect pajamas she already owned. She wanted to tell Draco that he shouldn't needlessly spend money on her. That protest had died on her lips, however, when he came back for her and just stared at her. He looked so pleased to see her as comfortable as possible and cared for that she couldn't bring herself to say the first word against it. It was just pajamas, after all, not a new broomstick.
She noticed he was in his own set of green loungewear and did some staring of her own. She'd never seen him in anything so informal; he always dressed impeccably and even now he was in thick, sumptuous cotton, much like what she was wearing. It felt so domestic and natural for them to be there together at the end of the day.
"Nightcap?"
"Yes, please." She doubted that she'd be drinking anything alcoholic, but something to essentially wrap up the day was just the ticket for her still slightly unsettled mind.
He took up his previous post behind her and rolled her back to the living room where he helped settle her on the end of a plush sofa before sitting beside her. Bumble and Bee brought them hot cocoa and chocolate-filled croissants along with her next round of potions.
Her thoughts became hard to hold onto again, and she was unable to focus on the book Draco had waiting on her after they finished their snack. To add to the problem, there were only so many positions she could read in before she was sore and aching. Draco had taken such good care of her that she hated to say anything, not wanting to seem ungrateful. There was nothing to do for it besides levitate it or have him read to her, and with the state of her intoxicated mind, she was afraid to cast even simple spells. Besides, it had been such a long day, and it was getting hard to hold her eyes open.
"Ready for bed?" His eyes ran across her form, searching for anything wrong or out of place.
"That would be lovely."
He sat her book to the side and helped her back into her chair. When they got back to her room, he helped her settle onto the mountain of outrageously comfortable pillows on the equally comfortable bed before tucking her in and summoning the book.
"You didn't get to read much of your book; would you like me to read it to you? I know it can be difficult to sleep in an unfamiliar environment."
Had she accidentally said something about that aloud? She blinked at him, trying to recount if her mouth had moved recently without her permission.
"Or, I can just let you get some sleep. You've had an exceptionally long day." He made to move towards the door when she reached a hand out and snagged his wrist.
"No, stay. Please. If you don't mind, that is." Her cheeks burned as she babbled.
"I don't." He magicked the same chair into existence that he'd slept in next to her bedside and sat down.
Before he opened the book, however, he fished a delicate-looking bracelet from his shirt pocket and fastened it around her wrist. She brought it up to eye level to examine it. It looked antique and expensive.
"If you need me, just squeeze the serpent charm. If you'd prefer a house-elf, squeeze the bumblebee charm," he explained.
That was far better than a bell, and it rendered her unable to protest. Hopefully, it was a family piece rather than a new piece. Before she could ask, he'd opened the book and begun to read to her. She desperately tried to stay awake to enjoy the sound of his voice, but all too soon she found herself in dreamland.
Every couple of hours the drug-induced dreams would morph to her being suspended upside down in the air and falling which always startled her awake. Each time she woke, he was there, gently guiding her back into a resting position and lulling her back to sleep. When morning came, she wasn't sure if it was real or an enormously long, looping, convoluted dream. Her answer came in the form of the man still sitting in the chair with the book spread across his chest, sound asleep.
See you all next Saturday!