After fifth year Hermione decided to learn some healing. After second year she had dismissed the idea because she wouldn't have been able to heal herself. After third year she'd been too exhausted from a year with the time turner. She'd seriously considered it during her fourth year, noting and practicing some of the useful spells she researched with Harry. But she hadn't gone to Madam Pomfrey because she'd been able to convince herself that there would always be an adult around to rely on. But no longer.
After their trip to the Ministry, all the others had their own regrets. Hermione had latched onto the idea that if she'd been able to heal the others they would have been able to get away more easily. Her rational side knew it wasn't entirely true but her brain niggled at her endlessly. Healing was always a useful skill to have, she justified her obsession to herself and promptly signed up for a summer healing internship with the Appleby Arrows. She would Floo from the Burrow a couple days a week and help patch up the players while trying to focus on learning as much as she could and repressing the feeling that something bigger and more dangerous was coming.
When they returned to Hogwarts, she immediately approached Madam Pomfrey. The matron was skeptical at first but her good nature and Hermoine's skill quickly overcame her objections. Hermione suspected Dumbledore might have interfered on her behalf and she was grateful. Madam Pomfrey gave her a comprehensive introduction to healing potions and salves. She also instructed Hermione in brewing them. Professor Slughorn seemed to appreciate the reprieve from his duties.
The first week in October Hermione was spending her free period helping Madam Pomfrey heal the victims of an experimental spell that someone had unleashed in the Ravenclaw common room when Draco Malfoy showed up clutching a slip of parchment and looking furious. Hermione had heard enough about him from Harry's theories and completely ignored him as she focused on removing the bits of gobblestone and porcupine quills that had pierced a poor second year's left side. What had Michael Corners been thinking? Hermione wondered angrily as the little Ravenclaw let out a whimper of pain.
"Almost done," Hermione soothed, "You've been very brave."
The little boy gave a weak smile and Hermione made one final pass with her wand. All the detritus was gone. She summoned a disinfectant salve and gentle dabbed all the spots before healing them seamlessly.
"See not even a scar," she said with a smile, "now lay back and rest for fifteen minutes then you may return to your common room."
The little Ravenclaw blanched at the thought.
"Well maybe your dormitory," Hermione said, understanding his hesitation, "Oh and make sure to take a healing pass so you don't get stopped by Flich." She pointed to a pile of tiles but the door.
"Hermione, can you take care of Mr. Malfoy? I've got to finish up here," Madam Pomfrey called. She was leaning over the experimenter muttering a low string of admonishments.
Hermione took a deep breath and turned to Malfoy, "Can I help you?"
"I'll wait for Pomfrey, as I'm not in any immediate danger," Malfoy sneered but it didn't have his usual heat.
"Malfoy, you will speak to Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey turned back to her patient.
Malfoy looked like he'd swallowed stinksap but thrust the parchment he was holding towards Hermione. She took it without attitude, not willing to sink to his level.
Poppy -
Mr. Malfoy has failed to complete his transfiguration homework for the fourth time this year. Please give him a complete physical to ensure that there's no physical reason that he cannot complete his assignments. Please let me know so I may design an appropriate course of action.
Minerva
Hermione considered the best course of action. She'd performed many physicals on the Arrow's players so the technical knowledge wasn't a problem it was her bedside manner that was the problem. She took a deep breath. Malfoy was glaring at her with narrowed eyes.
She motioned Malfoy forward to a bed and he sat gingerly. She drew the curtains for privacy around the bed, "I'm going to cast a silencing charm so no one can hear us. Is that okay?"
Malfoy gulped and nodded.
"So I've taken a healing oath. I can't reveal what you say here to anyone. Do you understand?" Hermione asked.
Malfoy nodded again.
"Okay, I'm going to get started. Can you please remove your outer robe?" Hermione waited while he complied, she conjured a case file and a pen, "Do you have any concerns today?"
"No," Draco crossed his arms and looked surly.
Hermione began to ask a standard list of questions and got surly one worded answers. This didn't bother her. Professional quidditch players could have taught lessons in how to be a disgruntled patient. They would try to hide emotional issues, injuries, substance abuse and a host of other complaints in order to be considered fit enough to play. Hermione didn't mind Malfoy's evasion, the body never lied.
"Okay, I'm going to start the physical exam now, please," she broke off as Draco lay down on the bed before she could ask.
"Ready?" she held out her wand waitin until she had his permission before casting a diagnostic charm.
He grunted and motioned for her to get on with it. She cast the spell without further hesitation and her pen set about recording the results. She watched the output carefully. It was largely normal but there were a few worrying trends.
"I'm going to feel your abdomen," she said, again waiting for his permission. He nodded and she began to press gently.
This wasn't going at all how Draco expected. He'd figured he would get a quick exam, a dose of pepperup potion from a busy Madam Pomfrey and be on his way. Instead he was sequestered with Granger, and her warm hands were gently, delicately probing his stomach. She was so sure of herself, he found himself feeling impressed despite his nerves. He watched her directed her muggle writing device to make a note. She began moving her wand up and down his body. He tensed ready to bat her away from his left arm but she studiously avoided it.
How could she know? He wondered, Potter, he'd been in the train compartment. Draco felt shame welling up in him. She was scared of him, but helping him anyway. She knew the worst about him but still thought he was worth helping him. If she knew everything she wouldn't feel that way, he was sure. This wasn't the first time he was forced to conclude that Granger was simply a better person than him. The irony of this admission after this summer was evident to Malfoy. It was almost funny how he'd been irrevocably branded with a symbol of a particular ideology just when he'd completely lost faith in it. Not really funny, a sardonic smile graced his lips for a moment more like an unfortunate paradox. Still he had a reputation to maintain, even if she said she was under oath, Draco knew what oaths were worth. Granger was currently scanning his head.
"Don't forget this," he leered, shaking his left arm at her.
"Of course," Granger replied evenly. She didn't flinch when her wand hit the mark and Draco felt the dark magic there flare up.
"You can sit up now, if you'd like."
Draco was a little disappointed, her hands had been gentle and it was comfortable lying there feeling the warm hum of her magic. Most healers poked and prodded hurrying their way through the diagnostics but she had barely touched him. She was studying her notebook, her brow furrowed and biting her lip.
"What's the verdict?" Malfoy asked, suddenly ashamed of his feelings and wanting to run away.
"Your vitals are good," she began.
Draco had heard enough, clearly this was a joke, she had no idea what she was doing. He sprung off the bed just as she sat down.
"But…" she continued patting the spot besides her. He sat. Not really sure why but he did.
"I have a couple of concerns," she looked him directly in the eye and he couldn't bring himself to turn away from those hazel orbs, "Your liver is showing some signs of strain. Likely because I found traces of pepperup potion, Aled's Alertness Ale and calming draught in your system. Also some pain relief potions. You're under considerable stress and your mark is infected."
She finished her uncomfortably through summary and sat primly waiting for him to react.
"So?" he growled, upset she had once again proved herself competent.
"So you should know that mixing Alertness Ale and calming draught can lead to hallucinations in which you're paralyzed. That pain relief potion is addictive and like Pepperup potion it becomes less effective with continued use. Unless you're taking recreational quantities which I don't think you are then it's best to cure the source of the pain. In this case I believe it's the infection in the mark. We could treat that today if you'd like. The rest is simply up to you, if you decide to continue your potions regime you'll likely get liver damage but it's not fatal in the short term."
"So it's just up to me?" growled Draco. Usually healers were pushing potions on their patients before they'd had a chance to think.
"Yeah," she sat quietly. Still watching his face. He wondered what she saw there.
He made up his mind, if she could heal him without Pomfrey finding out about the mark that'd be one less person who knew and that was a good thing. He had suspected the infection. Some of the veins around the mark had turned black, the blackness had almost reached his chest so he figured he'd just remove his shirt so she could see the full extent right away.
"Do it," he commanded, striping off his shirt. She nodded the furrow in her brow deeping as she took in the extent of the infection.
Hermione had almost gasped when he'd peeled off his shirt. She hadn't thought it was strictly necessary until she saw the extent of the infection. It must have been agony. She checked the rest of his chest but it was pale and perfect. Lightly muscled, a fuzzy trail of blond hair trailed downwards from her navel, towards his. Hermione pulled herself back.
"Can you roll onto your right side? I'd like to see how far it's gotten on your back," she requested fighting down the blush that was forming at being so close to her half naked classmate. He rolled. His shoulders were slim but muscular. He had a slight hunch that she associated with spending a lot of time on a broom. The infection hadn't spread as far on his back. That was good.
She summoned a bunch of different potions, a funny shaped pillow and a metal bowl, "I need to cancel all the potions in your system before giving you a numbing agent. Unfortunately when they all wear off it's going to be fairly excruciating. So you can use this pillow or scream if you need. No one will hear you if you do and I have seen adults do much worse so I really couldn't care how you handle it."
She finished her speech and handed the pillow.
"Where could you have possibly seen adults do worse, Granger?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.
"The Appleby Arrows are tough but professional quidditch is tougher. One can't help but scream or vomit or pass out when certain injuries occur," she said matter of factly.
"Is it likely I'll pass out?" he asked, more interested than scared.
"No."
"Let's get this over with," he grumbled.
"Okay once the numbing potion takes effect, I'm going to draw the infection out through a small cut on the mark. Once I'm done I'll heal the cut and you'll be fine."
"I've never heard of anything like this," he protested.
"And you have extensive experience with dark injuries?" she challenged lightly lining up her equipment and pulling on some gloves.
"You do?"
"Again quidditch players will try almost anything for an edge," she said with a shrug and eyeroll. This was actually going more smoothly than she expected. She hadn't been called the m-word once. This was going to be much easier than removing the bladder of poisonous gas one of the Arrow's had tried to implant in the skin of their arm.
"Do it," Malfoy said again. So she handed him the first potion and cast her monitoring charm. He drank it without hesitation and lay still waiting for it to take effect. After three minutes his face began to tighten in pain and he grunted.
After five minutes he muttered, "Ouch."
She handed him the pillow and he bit down on it. It wasn't what she expected but she had said she wouldn't judge so she made no reaction. After ten minutes he was heaving, she silently handed him the metal bowl and he immediately lost his lunch. Several times. She vanished it immediately, "Is there anymore?"
He shook his head and she handed him a cool damp washcloth and his second dose of potion. After he got it down she handed him a glass of water.
"Drink this and lie back," she instructed, gently adjusting his pillows. He looked at her, grey eyes burning. She wondered if he was angry but he followed her instructions without comment. She watched as the numbing potion worked. His tense face relaxed.
"Can you feel this?" she asked, pinching his hand.
"Not a thing," he replied, watching him closely.
"You're welcome to watch but most people prefer not to," she commented. With that she used a small knife to make a tiny cut on his mark. It was an ugly, dark black but somehow also raised and puffy. It reminded the puffy stickers she'd had as a kid, it seems like his body was trying to push it out from below his skin. She brought the metal bowl up to catch the infection and began drawing it out. It wasn't hard but she took her time making sure to get it all. She held the spell for an extra moment making sure she'd gotten it all. When she was sure she relaxed and said, "Done now let me just heal the cut."
She looked up at Malfoy for the first time and realized he was staring at her. His regard made her uncomfortable so she looked back down intent on healing the cut.
"Wait! It's gotten lighter," his voice was a little ragged, "Do you think you could use the same process to remove it?"
His voice held such hope Hermione's heart broke a little.
"I probably could but I won't," she replied reaching out and taking his hand tenderly.
"Why not?" he jerked his hand away and sat up abruptly, "I thought you were against dark magic."
"Don't you think Voldemort would be curious about who removed his mark?" she asked, watching him flinch at the name.
"That's remarkably selfish for a supposedly selfless Gryffindor…"
"Beside I'm led to believe that it's service for life and I'm not about to be responsible for what happens to you when he discovers," she interrupted him holding her hand up to forestall his continued arguments.
Malfoy was stunned, she cared enough about him that she wouldn't sign his death warrant.
"But… perhaps I could tone it down a bit," she mused biting her lip in thought. He didn't reply, he just held out his arm. She raised her wand and grabbed the bowl. After another few minute's work the mark was noticeably lighter but still present.
"Done," she nodded in satisfaction, "the numbing will wear off by tomorrow morning. So go easy on the potions until then."
He nodded, standing and dawning his shirt. He felt lighter than he had in months all thanks to this witch he was supposed to hate. It had been a long time since he'd hated her. He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear, cupping her cheek in his hand. On impulse he stooped and kissed her cheek, "Thank you Hermione."
Her eyes had come up to search his face and her lips had formed a perfect O. It had taken all his control not to kiss them too. She looked uncertain and eventually whispered, "You're welcome Draco."
Hearing her use his given name made him shiver but his self control kicked in and he pulled his hand away.
"If you tell anyone what you saw…" he began adopting his best menacing look.
"I know, I know you'll stick your buddies on me and everyone I love," she cut him off not looking impressed, "that will be such a change."
He snorted despite himself, "Too true."
A couple weeks later Granger had caught up with him after potions and shoved him into a broom closet. She summoned a bright ball of light and locked the door.
"Granger, what the hell?" he protested.
"Turn around and take off your shirt," she said, levelling her wand at him.
"Merlin Granger, there are other ways to get some action," he yelped startled at her instructions, "I'm sure there's someone out there that wouldn't mind having a go with a m-"
"Muggleborn witch who's beauty and intelligence are world renown. That's what I'm sure you were going to say," she cut him off.
"No I was going to say m-" he responded.
"Shut up you prat, I'm going to heal your shoulder. It's been bleeding on your shirt since breakfast and it's driving me crazy. So turn around and take off your shirt," she raised her wand as she spoke, "Unless you need me to help." Draco felt himself begin to turn involuntarily.
"No it's fine," he huffed. He turned around and began unbuttoning his shirt. As much as he protested he was actually a little disappointed and relieved. The vanishing cabinet had taken a chunk out of his shoulder when he'd been working on it. He hadn't been able to heal it himself and refused to go to Pomfrey so he'd bandaged the best he could but it hurt. A lot. He gritted his teeth in preparation to lift his arms to take off his vest when Hermione stilled him with a warm hand on his opposite shoulder.
"It's okay, I've got it," she said and he felt the back of his vest split open. He couldn't help shivering as her warm hands gently prodded the wound. He would have rather been branded with the dark mark again than admit he'd dreamt about her warm hands on his body more often than not since their encounter in the infirmary.
"I can't heal this completely because it's a magical wound but I'll clean it and add dittany which will get it most of the way there," she told himself.
"I'm not sure I get a say in this situation so do what you want," Malfoy couldn't help but point out. Hermione 'tsked' and summoned the supplies from her bag.
"You just carry around healing supplies? Ah!" Draco teased, then flinched as the disinfectant hit his wound.
"My best friend is Harry Potter," Hermione deadpanned, "hold still."
"Touche, Granger," he replied with a chuckle.
"Back to Granger then?" she asked mildly. He felt the bandage applied with light strokes across his shoulder. It was the best thing Draco had ever felt.
"Done," she stepped back.
He spun around and caught her face in his hands.
"Touche Hermione," he whispered looking into her eyes.
Her eyes searched his face then she pulled away sadly, "I'll fix you vest if you give me a minute."
He turned around trying to figure out what had made the light go out of her eyes. He felt his vest repair itself and heard her cast a spell to siphon the blood off it. He did the same with his other shirt.
"Until next time you neglect yourself, Malfoy," Hermione said quietly as she packed up her supplies and turned to the door.
"Wait," Draco put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, her face guarded.
"What do you want from me Hermione? You know what I am. I can't tell you anything without endangering people I love. I can't really give you anything because I'm not likely to survive this year," he squeezed his eyes tightly holding back the tears. Once he started it felt like a dam broke and he couldn't stop, "Even if I make it and something happens you're you. And while I might not care most people in my family do. So they would hurt you. So what on earth do you want?"
She looked shocked at his outburst, "I want you to know you're not alone."
He laughed without humor, "Of course I'm alone. He designed it that way. To...to exploit every single one of my family's weaknesses."
Hermione twisted her hands looking uncertain, "But Draco, he wants you to feel alone."
"Well it's working."
Tentatively she reached out and took his hand. Her hands were warm and he felt her warm friendly magic tingle on his finger tips. It felt like nothing he could remember. He didn't pull away. Instead he found himself wondering how her entire body would feel like pressed against him. Without thinking he pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. She didn't object and her warm magic surrounded him. He was in too deep too quickly to care about the consequences.
She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and her hands slipped under his untucked shirt. He was surprised at her willingness to touch him but didn't want to jinx the moment. Her hair smelled like coconut and he inhaled deeply. He could stay like this forever but too soon she sighed and shifted away from him.
"Don't wait until you're hurt next time," Hermione said her eyes raking over his face and she turned, cast a Homenum Revelio charm and slipped into the deserted corridor. Draco leaned against the wall with a groan. Her words washed over him. 'But Draco, he wants you to feel alone.'
Draco hadn't felt alone in her arms. In fact he'd felt seen in a way he never had been before. He took a step towards the door to follow her but stopped. Like he said he had nothing to offer her. She was everything innocent and enchanting while he was tainted with a death sentence. He wouldn't impose on her. It was time to go back to work.
Carefully leaving the broom closet Draco was shocked that the whole interlude lasted only fifteen minutes. Maybe he wouldn't wait until he was hurt before seeking her out again.
He'd received a letter asking for his progress on Sunday and had barely been able to wait until Tuesday after potions to pull her into the broom cupboard again. He'd stolen her knife at the end of potions and used returning it as an excuse to separate her from Potter and Weasley. As soon as her friends had turned the corner he'd grabbed her hand and unceremoniously pulled her inside. She only seemed mildly surprised when he embraced her again tightly.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, voice muffled by his chest.
"No. Alone," he whispered in her ear.
"Oh."
She just held him close and didn't move. Seemingly completely content. He couldn't believe that she was. He would have been expectant or impatient if the situation was reversed but she just held on radiating her warm calming magic. He tried to relax completely but he couldn't. He couldn't get over the feeling that she needed something from him.
"Is this it?" he finally asked, unable to stand the silence.
"Is what it?" she responded confused.
"I still can't figure out your angle," Draco replied.
"Isn't it clear?" Hermione had a wicked smile playing on her lips, "the Ministry started a new program called "Deflowering Death Eaters" where women volunteer to sleep with death eaters until they renounce their Lord. I'm among the first ten. I've also been assigned Nott and Avery. I pursue them on the weekends."
Draco stared at her for a full minute before bursting into laughter, "Oh Merlin. That sounds exactly like the misguided sort of thing Fudge would do. F**k your funny."
Hermione smiled mischievously at him. She looked pleased at making him laugh and ready for another round.
"So we're supposed to be shagging then?" Draco asked head cocked to the side. He expected Granger to pale and look away but instead she looked at him eye blazing.
"That's up to you," she didn't miss a beat, "you could just surrender quietly."
"Never," he murmured and stooped to kiss her. On the lips this time. Again she didn't shy away like he expected. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes.
Merlin we are going to end up shagging, Malfoy thought in a moment of panic.
"Are you sure you're Hermione Granger?" he asked, breaking their kiss, "because this is…"
"Unexpected?" she supplied, "Not real life you think about. You've fancied me since third year and I can't help but notice how much you've grown up over the summer."
He snorted, "Grown up is one way to describe it."
"Not that," she gestured to his mark and looked impatient, "You're different from your family now. More independent, less arrogant and thoughtful."
She couldn't have been more wrong.
"My fate inexorably linked to my family's now more than ever!" he protested, "I could hardly be less independent."
"You admitted last week that you didn't care about my blood. You're working for Voldemort to protect your family not because you believe in his cause. You aren't hanging around with your old friends as much. So yeah, I'd say you're more independent. Besides you admit you've liked me since third year."
Her smug smile was back and he found himself wanting to kiss it off her face rather than think about the rather good points she made. So he moved in closer but she wasn't expecting him and he knocked off balance. She took a step back and he pinned her against the wall. Greedily taking her kisses and caresses.
"You magic is amazing," he murmured.
"What do you mean?" Hermione looked startled.
"It's so warm and inviting. It shimmers from you in waves," he explained.
"Oh. I never knew," she replied, "Is that normal?"
"No, but it means you're really powerful," Draco reassured her.
"How do you know?"
"Because the only others I've met who I can feel like that are Dumbledore and …." he trailed off before her compared her to Voldemort.
But she wouldn't let him get away with it, "Did you just almost compare me to Voldemort?"
"No, no, no. His magic feels malevolent and cold. It also surges unpredictably. Yours is warm and steady like a blanket," he reassured her.
He watched her mull it over.
"I'm deciding if I should be offended or flattered," she told him seriously.
"Flattered, you should be very flattered," he said quickly, "It's an amazing unusual trait for an amazing unusual witch."
"Unusual!?" she said, "Merlin you suck at compliments." She finally cracked a smile and he relaxed.
"Well show me how it's done then Miss Judgy," he retorted. Unusual was a good thing in his book. Hermione smiled evilly.
"First of all Malfoy you're hot," she began, "your shoulders are defined but not too bulky. Your chest is pale and smooth just like it should be and you have a little line of fuzz just here begging to be investigated."
She paused and slid her hand downwards from his navel causing him to swallow. Hard.
Completely ignoring his reaction she continued, "You're also intelligent judging by how many NEWTs level classes you're taking. And the ease with which you pick things up in class. Not to mention you know The Rules."
"The Rules?" he asked flummoxed. He was still reeling from her nearly groping him earlier. Sure he knew 'no magic in the corridors' or 'don't give clothes to the house elf' but those hardly seemed of actual significance.
"How people and groups operate. How to get them to do what you want without them realizing. What you need to get a law passed or into anyone's pants. I don't doubt when you do decide what you want you'll be devastatingly effective at getting it," she wasn't looking directly at him instead she glanced at him from the corner of her eye then went back to studying the minute details of the door.
"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked.
"Because I don't suck at giving compliments," she replied easily.
He groaned, "No seriously Granger."
"Would you believe me if I said I liked you?"
"Oh my god, the Ministry really does have a program," he groaned. It was the only possible explanation. Hermione Granger couldn't genuinely like him; the world was too upside down as it was.
She laughed, "Believe what you must. But after five years you know how rarely I'm wrong."
And she kissed him again.
"See you around Malfoy," she said casually breaking the kiss and slipping out of the cupboard.
He couldn't even wait until the following Tuesday to get her alone again. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon and he found her in a secluded nook in the library. Her chair looked more comfortable than any he thought Madam Price would allow and it occurred to him that she probably transfigured it to her liking. He slipped onto the arm of said chair and subtly shifted a bookcase to block them from view. She patted the seat beside her without looking up and he saw that now there was room for two. He slid down next to her and turned her to face him.
"My turn," he said, casting a muffliato charm and giving her a cocky smile as she schooled her face into a politely skeptical look.
"Granger when I said you were unusual I meant you were a rare treasure. Someone completely unique. The type of priceless treasure one could spend a lifetime searching for and never find its equal. Your intelligence is so infamous that it's hardly worth mentioning other than to note it likely surpasses all its acclaim. But your virtues don't stop there. You're kind and forgiving and fair. You see what others cannot and perceive things well beyond your years."
He paused and watched with satisfaction as her mouth formed that perfect little O of surprise. But he wasn't done with her yet.
"You're hot Granger," he leaned closer and began to whisper, "So attractive that there are things I want to do... things I want to make you feel that reside only in that most private of spaces between sleep and waking."
This admission caused her to gasp aloud. She turned to look at him eyes wide but not at all fearful.
"Admit it Granger," he let a little of his desire come into his voice.
"Admit what?"
"That I don't suck at compliments."
"Maybe if you can back it up."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Tell me some of those most private things," she whispered. Her mouth curving in satisfaction at his stupefied reaction, "See? You were just repeating what you've heard others say."
"Hang up," he held up his hand to stop her. He hooked his arm around her waist and turned her to face him.
"I dream about kissing your lips," he began with a demonstration, "and trailing kisses all down here."
He slowly ran a finger across her jawbone and down her throat.
"And discovering exactly how it would feel to unbutton your shirt and explore your chest," his fingers idly undid the top button to emphasize his meaning. She was looking at him with longing now but he wasn't done, "I've imagined sharing a blanket with you at a cold quidditch match and undoing you jeans underneath it. I imagine I could make you scream at something other than the game by touching you here."
He drew a suggestive hand up her thigh and hovered over her crotch, "And most especially here."
"Hmm, I believe you. Although I'm a little disappointed it took you four days to come up with this scenario," her voice was low and he could tell she was teasing. He didn't mind in the slightest.
"Tell me," she continued winding some fingers into his hair, "did any of these dreams take place in the library?"
Did they ever.
Draco tapped his wand nervously against his leg. He was alone in an empty classroom slightly before curfew. He had covered the blackboard with Arithmancy equations so he wouldn't look too suspicious if discovered. It was unlikely he'd be discovered as he'd performed every privacy spell he could think of. The note in his hand was ready to go. He took a deep breath and muttered, "Fawkes."
He waited a minute hoping his plan would work. Another minute passed. Perhaps Fawkes was indisposed. Perhaps this had been a mistake. Another minute passed, he pushed off the desk and stood to take down his spells. This had been a stupid fantasy. He raised his wand when Fawkes waddled into the classroom. The bird looked completely unconcerned. It had the air as if it just happened upon this classroom during its nightly stroll.
"Hey Fawkes," Draco whispered, kneeling to be closer to the bird. He held his hand and the phoenix inspected it beadily before turning it's eyes to the note clenched in the other. The phoenix looked at the note then tilted its head at Draco.
"Yeah, it's for Dumbledore," Draco answered the question, "but no one can know. No one Fawkes."
The bird just blinked once and took the parchment in his beak. Fawkes took off with the note its beak and shimmered out existence. Draco was just glad the phoenix had forgone the showy column of flames.
He turned back to Arithmancy homework and crossed out the incorrect answers on the board scanning for where he'd made a mistake. Once he'd found the inverted fraction and solved the equation again he turned back to his notes to copy his work down. Resting on top of his notes was a fragment of parchment. A loopy hand had scrawled:
Change nothing; your assignment still stands. All will be well. Miss Granger will be proud. Look for Fawkes when the time is right.
Draco smiled for the first time in months. He didn't remotely believe that all would be well. He knew there would be long difficult months and years ahead but he'd made Hermione proud and that was a start.
All had not been well. Snape had killed Dumbledore and Fawkes had left Hogwarts. The Phoenix had never come despite Draco's attempts to warn Dumbledore that his task was complete. Draco had suffered and been sent back to Hogwarts. He was sure no one would see the good in him again.
But now he stood in his drawing room watching his mad aunt single out the kind witch with the warm magic. Bellatrix raised her wand and shouted "Crucio". Almost without thinking Draco cast a shield between the two witches. It couldn't cancel the strength of his Aunt's curse completely but it helped. He'd been unable to help when his deranged Aunt began to carve that awful slur into her arm. He just stood there in shame and shock until Potter had overpowered him. He hadn't fought back. He was too worried about the witch on the floor.
When they'd returned to Hogwarts for their eighth year Draco had avoided Hermione. He was too ashamed. This summer it had been easy to avoid her because the few times he was anywhere near her Weasley had mouthed venomous insults and shunted her away possessively. At school it was harder. She was in his classes and seemed to be everywhere as Head Girl.
It wasn't until one day after a particularly grueling potions lesson that they talked. The dungeon smelled like a skunk had eaten an entire cauldron of stinky tofu. Slughorn had hurried out looking rather green and asking them to clean up for him.
Hermione had cast a bubble head charm and began vanishing the offending potions.
"Lazy git," she grumbled after Slughorn's retreating backside. She shot a sly look at Draco, "Six years of hard work to become Head Girl so I could clean up Macmillan's cat sick."
Draco was immobilized, There was no way she could be joking with him, right?
He was tempted to run, thanking her for cleaning up on his way out, but his legs wouldn't let him.
Suddenly she was next to him clasping his hand, "Thank you."
"Wha—-? I haven't…" he broke off completely unable to form a coherent thought in such close proximity to her.
"For casting that shield at the manor. You saved my life," she looked up at him with her warm hazel eyes. Her magic felt a little brittle but still warm and strong. Suddenly Draco realized he was crying. Not manly sniffs but real sobs.
"Buuut I… I couldn't do… do anything about that," he gestured to the scar his aunt had left on his arm.
Hermione looked surprisingly controlled as she considered her damaged arm, "Hmmm… yes well I guess we match now."
"We shouldn't…," Draco drew a shaky breath, "You're too good, too pure."
"If that's the case, what are you going to do about it?" her hazel eyes glowed.
"Make sure no one every hurts you again," he growled, tightening his grip on her hand.
"Not good enough."
"What more do you want from me?" he echoed his question from their encounter years ago.
"For you to think bigger," she whispered, moving a step closer.
"Bigger?"
"No one like me gets hurt again," she whispered, "You know The Rules, Draco."
His name. She knew The Rules too. She knew he would do anything when she said his name like that. He reached up and slowly stroked her face, "There's no one quite like you, Hermione."
She didn't look exasperated at his deflection, she just closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.
"But I'll do everything I can to protect muggleborns," he promised and she squeezed him tightly. After a few minutes in her embrace he murmured, "Merlin… who knew Fudge was a genius."