A/N: Hi! I'm still here! I'm sadly not writing much at the moment, but this is a little one-shot that I uploaded to tumblr a bit ago and now - thankfully - has experienced a good and hard round of beta'ing by the unbelievable niffizzle (THANK YOU!).
Trigger warning: (wrongfully assumed) addiction
Draco isn't particularly observant of the people around him, but when it comes to Hermione Granger, he has learned to pay attention. And what he sees makes him very concerned: the witch's eyes are red.
At first, he thinks it's because she's been crying. The break-up with the Weasel was something they had all seen coming—after all, the two of them were obviously a bad match—but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt the woman's heart. Although, Draco is very aware she's not a fragile princess. But he cares about her now. A care that has developed and grown into a solid friendship over the first months in their eighth year.
As the phenomenon continues, he believes his first suspicion was wrong—she laughs a lot, makes fun of the way Weasley blushes whenever Pansy looks at him, and treats it all with a good-nature and full of friendship. A weird species, those Gryffindors.
Next, he thinks her eyes are red because she's angry. After all, Longbottom did accidentally hit her with a spell and distracted her perfect aim during D.A.D.A. class. Draco is thankful that Longbottom beheaded that pet snake of the Dark Lord, but he doubted that was enough to qualify him for a N.E.W.T. in the subject.
Then, hunched over his Muggle Studies notes, a thought occurs to Draco. But that couldn't be true, right?
"Red eyes, relaxed mood, probably smiling a lot—" he reads from the text.
It was about drug addiction in comparison to potion addiction.
No. No! Merlin, no? It isn't possible. Gryffindor's Golden Girl, the brightest witch he has ever met, Head Girl and everyone's darling wasn't… She doesn't do drugs!
Angry at himself for even considering that idea, Draco pushes aside those thoughts, trying to come up with another explanation.
He observes her closely the next day—very closely—and realises that whenever he talks to her, she smiles. He wasn't imagining it. And her eyes… they are still red. Whenever he is around (of course, accompanying her everywhere and everything would be suspicious), she seems to relax. And smile.
Merlin help him.
His concern mounts to an unbearable level. Draco tries to remain cool, unfazed. But he can't. Not with her. Especially not when she rubs her eyes for the nth time as they share a library table.
"Merlin, Granger! What is wrong with you?" he almost yells at her.
The truth, which is an admittedly new friend of Draco's, needs to come out.
He believes his suspicions to be confirmed when she blushes instantly and stutters, "Nothing." The shake of her head causes her curls to fly in every direction.
He nods, not remotely satisfied, and returns to his text. His feet are tapping restlessly beneath the table, and his jaw is clenched so tight that his molars grind against each other. Does she really think he believes her?
The concern, the anxiety, the care reach a breaking point when Draco catches her smiling to herself absent-mindedly.
"Enough!"
She startles, and he almost shrinks back because he doesn't want to scare her off. Earning her trust and friendship has been hard, and he can't afford to throw that away.
"What's enough?" she asks, as if he had shaken her from a daydream. That in and of itself is a glaring concern. The Hermione Granger he knows doesn't daydream in the library.
"Everything. You need to come with me. Now." Draco must have taken her by surprise, for he doesn't meet any resistance when he takes her hand in his. On the way to the Hospital Wing, she is too compliant, following him like they do this every day, walking the corridors and halls of Hogwarts with their hands locked together. When he glances at her, she is eyeing their interlaced fingers almost reverently.
Now, more than ever, Draco knows there is something wrong with Hermione Granger.
As soon as they enter the Hospital Wing, he gestures for Madam Pomfrey. The nurse glances at him sceptically when she spots Hermione in his tow.
Then, it occurs to him: Pomfrey won't tell him anything, won't say a word about the witch's condition, even if Draco's suspicions prove correct. Patient confidentiality. A blessing when he consulted the nurse's help in sixth year, now something worthy of detest. Maybe there is a way around it?
"Excuse me, Madame Pomfrey. Miss Granger is in need of medical treatment."
"Mister Malfoy, did you hex her again?"
Draco tries to ignore the remark. It happened only once this year, and it had been an accident. Besides, she had looked adorable with the bunny ears.
"I assure you, I haven't. But if you would examine her thoroughly, maybe I can help you with the treatment." He really could. There are some potions that would help her system flush out all the toxic substances she must have consumed. He has found some very helpful recipes in the Manor library. It doesn't surprise him that his family had a history of addictions—potions, sex, 'herbs'. No matter the vice, the knowledge of how to cure it exists in the family.
"Excuse me?" Hermione seems to have woken from her drug-induced happy state. "You really are serious about this, aren't you?" She pulls her hand away from his, her expression miffed.
"I am," Draco admits but remains unwavering.
"You are such a stubborn, ignorant idiot!"
She is right, as she usually is. Maybe this situation calls for a desperate course of action.
"Please?" he pleads. "For me?"
She snorts, indignantly. "He's too cute for his own good," she mumbles.
Relief flooding him, Draco nods at Pomfrey who has waited at a respectable distance. The nurse steps towards them again and Draco breathes out heavily.
"This is going to be unpleasant for all of us, but it needs to be addressed," he starts. "My suspicion is that Miss Granger is having some substance related issues." From the corner of his eyes, Draco sees her shoulders shake. Is she crying because he has discovered her disposition? Bravely, he continues, "Namely, she is under the influence of some potion, herb, or Muggle chemical substance."
Then, he hears the sounds she makes—and they definitely don't speak of crying. She is laughing! Is she really so under the influence that she doesn't give a damn about him and Pomfrey knowing?
Hermione's outburst has now turned into a full-blown laughter attack.
Draco feels equally concerned and annoyed.
Madame Pomfrey, however, seems to take Draco's words a little more seriously and directs her wand at Hermione, mumbling something about them having been forced to grow up too fast.
The diagnostic charm takes a few minutes, but she finally declares, relief palpable, "Miss Granger is perfectly healthy, except for a mildly accelerated heartbeat."
That couldn't be true. "Check again."
"Mister Malfoy—"
"Please."
The nurse is so surprised that Draco actually begged that she scans an irritated Hermione again.
"Nothing," she says after the second examination.
"No illegal substances?"
"No."
"Of course not!" Hermione comes forth. "Whatever made you conclude that I am doing drugs is obviously a false—"
"The smiling, the relaxed mood, your red eyes!" Draco counts the symptoms with his fingers. "I read everything about it in Muggle Studies—"
His rant gets interrupted by another bout of laughter. In fact, she has thrown her head back and sounds like she is having the time of her life.
Madame Pomfrey gives him a conspiratorial wink. "I would really like to know the story behind this, but seeing as Miss Granger is perfectly fine, I will leave the two of you alone now." She pats the younger witch's shoulder and leaves while Hermione is still laughing.
Draco just stands there, flabbergasted. "It's not funny." He feels embarrassed because couldn't she see that he cares for her? That he wants to protect her?
His sharp tone finally stops her laughter. Only a giggle or two slip out when she looks at him and asks, "You honestly think I am taking drugs? Which one?"
"My guess is marijuana, but I am not very experienced with anything outside of potions or alcohol, so I need to rely on my research." He inhales sharply, relieved that he can voice his concerns. Another giggle escapes her and she covers it badly with a cough.
"Contact lenses."
"Pardon?"
"I started wearing contact lenses."
She points at her eyes and beckons him closer.
Indeed. Her beautiful chocolate brown irises are covered by a barely visible layer of something artificial.
"I'm still getting used to them, so my eyes are red sometimes, especially after a long day."
"But… why?" he stammers, his mind still working on puzzling the pieces together. "Why aren't you simply wearing glasses?"
She shrugs. "I'm already best friends with a wizard whose defining characteristic is his glasses." Then, she shuffles her feet. "And I didn't want to add to this profile of me as a stereotypical bookworm."
Draco understands, even though he also knows she's an expert in breaking expectations and roles, set by outdated traditions and preoccupied men. Although…
"The contact lenses explain the red eyes. But what about the smiling?" Draco wonders. "You were awfully cheery the past few weeks."
"You." The shy blush on her cheeks is adorable, but the intensity of her gaze leaves no doubt that this is one of her brave Gryffindor moments. "You caused me to smile, caused me to laugh."
Draco's heart drops. His amazement at her confession must have shown on his face, because her lips curl into a smile when she says, "It sounds straight out of a cheesy Muggle film when I say it like that."
"I've never seen a Muggle film," is the only thing Draco can come up with. He puts a palm over his face afterwards, growling, "Let me try again." He schools his face into what he believes is hopeful encouragement. "I like being the reason for your smile, the cause of your laugh." He pauses and can't help but grin. "But I've never seen a film, so I might need your help to understand."
Her answer is a smile that makes his knees wobbly: beaming, overwhelming, and in a way that he knows that all will be well. Merlin, how could he be so blind that he is head over heels in love with her already?
Draco smiles in kind. "But I think I will need my glasses to see the screen."
She jumps from the bed and interlaces her fingers with his. "Glasses?"
"Glasses," he admits. "We Malfoys have inherited a bit of a problem when it comes to our eye-sight, it seems. Though, my father steadfastly claims that it's the Black side that causes my beautiful grey eyes to malfunction."
"The colour is definitely a Malfoy thing, but I don't know anything about the malfunction."
Draco laughs at her analysis of his genetics while she peers deeply into said eyes.
"I caught my father hiding his reading glasses more than once. And on one occasion, I accidentally overheard my mother commenting how sexy she found them." Draco shudders at the memory.
To his utter surprise, Hermione says, "For once, I actually agree with your mother. At least, when it comes to grey eyes behind glasses." She tilts her head, assessing Draco in a way that makes him equally nervous and excited. "Although, I must admit," Hermionecontinues, "yours are pretty sexy even without them."
The whole world seems to come to a frozen standstill as the beautiful witch winks at him. Winks.
And then, she leaves the room with a smile adorning her lips and a swing to her hips that has him panting.
With a smirk solely to himself, Draco realises that he has been blind. Blinded by perceived roles, wrong assumptions, maybe even his very own prejudice. He didn't see what was in front of him, even though his heart had already whispered it.
Hermione Granger is in love with him.
He better move now to show her that he is utterly and totally in love with her, too.
"Hermione!" She turns her head at his call, and the twinkle in her smile causes Draco's heart to jump. "Wait!" he says, before he catches up with a quick sprint, rushing to her side.