Chapter 5

The Dementors swarmed around them and Hermione could feel her blood getting cold and the most awful things were starting to force themselves into her head. She could hear Draco moaning; he was curled in a ball. Hermione was fumbling for her wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" Hermione yelled. A silver otter shot out of the end of her wand, chasing after the Dementors, chasing them out of the house. Hermione finally felt happiness coming back. Malfoy was lying on the bed again.

"What the hell was that, Granger?" he asked. His legs were in excruciating pain again.

"That was Dementors, Malfoy, what did you think they were?" Hermione got up and left the room.

"Where are you going? Leaving me alone to die, I suppose," Malfoy shouted after her.

"I'm not leaving you to die," Hermione called back over her shoulder. She returned a few minutes later with a small plastic canister and two spoons. "I'm getting this."

"What is that?" Malfoy asked suspiciously.

"Chocolate frosting," said Hermione.

"It comes in cans?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione opened the can and took out a scoop of frosting. She handed the spoon to Draco.

"It's a muggle invention to make their lives easier, now eat this, and you'll feel better," he looked paler than he should.

"I'm not eating some muggle concoction. I'll probably die," he said.

"Suit yourself," said Hermione as she ate some frosting off her own spoon.

"Do you know any pain-relieving spells?" Draco demanded; the pain in his legs was getting worse every second.

"Yes," said Hermione, "but I can't use magic, it's summer. And I'll already be in trouble for the Patronus."

"Can't you do something about the pain?" he asked her. Hermione could see the torture in his eyes.

"I have some Aleve in the bathroom, give me a second," said Hermione.

"What's Aleve?" Draco asked.

Hermione returned from the bathroom with the bottle of pills in her hand. She also had a glass of water. "This is Aleve, Malfoy," Hermione said. "It's a muggle pain killer, and it's actually quite effective."

"I told you I don't want anything muggle," said Malfoy, angrily. He was becoming more infuriated by the minute.

"I can't give you anything else!" Hermione was angry with him for being angry with her. It wasn't her fault she wasn't allowed to do magic. "Here, take these pills and swallow them," Hermione said handing him the pills and water.

Malfoy looked at her ferociously, and took the pills. He was willing to do anything to get rid of the pain. "My legs still hurt," he said after a minute. "I thought you said those things would work!"

"It takes a minute," said Hermione. "The medicine has to go through your bloodstream before it can take affect."

Malfoy stared at her. "So what do you want, Granger, why aren't you leaving?"

Hermione sighed. She couldn't wait until her parents came home and there was someone else to talk to.

* * *

Hermione woke up late the next morning. She stretched languidly and yawned, relishing the sun spilling onto her bed through the window. She loved sleeping late, despite her reputation as a morning person. It was then that she heard Malfoy's call.

"Granger!" Malfoy's room was on the first floor and Hermione's was on the second, so he was yelling incredibly loudly if she could actually hear it. She wished whoever had beaten him up had bruised his vocal cords.

Hermione wearily got out of bed, putting on her purple velvet robe and walking down the stairs. "What is it, Malfoy?" she asked him.

"Where's my breakfast?" he demanded.

"Well," said Hermione, insulted, "you threw your breakfast at me yesterday, so I figured you probably didn't want any today."

"Fat chance, Granger. Now, what's for breakfast?"

"Nothing that I know of. I've only been up for 2 minutes," Hermione was getting more annoyed by the second.

"Well, think of something quick, I'm getting hungry," Malfoy thoroughly enjoyed making her angry like this.

"It just so happens that Mum went shopping yesterday and brought back something for breakfast. Be back soon," Hermione refused to let a Malfoy get the better of her. She went out into the kitchen and put some water on to boil. If Malfoy wanted breakfast, he would get breakfast.

Hermione returned to Malfoy's room a few minutes later with a bowl of steaming instant oatmeal. She'd given Malfoy Peaches 'N' Cream flavor.

"What's that?" Malfoy asked.

"Oatmeal," said Hermione.

"Doesn't smell like oatmeal," said Malfoy.

"It's instant," said Hermione. "A muggle convenience food."

"I told you, I don't want any Muggle food. They might have poisons in them or something."

"Oh," said Hermione, "I have no doubt that poisons are a key ingredient in instant oatmeal, but it just makes it all the more tasty. Bon Apetit, Malfoy," Hermione set the bowl down on the bedside table and left the room to make her own breakfast. If Malfoy was really hungry, he'd have to choke down the oatmeal.

Hermione thought about what she had to do that day. She promised her mother she would sort and fold the laundry and she had some homework to do; beyond that, the day was hers. Her father had brought back a wheelchair last night, so Malfoy could get up and move around. But Hermione wasn't sure she would tell him about that just yet. Maybe a visit from Dumbledore was in order. Hermione heard Malfoy calling for her from his room again. Couldn't that boy do anything for himself?

"What is it Malfoy?" Hermione said angrily.

"I'm bored," he said, fixing her with a look that said 'I'm going to make your life hell and there's nothing you can do about it.'

"Well, I have just the solution," Hermione said. She wasn't going to let anyone but herself make her life hell. "Dad brought home a wheelchair last night. I can take you out into the living room today."

"Oh, what an adventure," Malfoy said sarcastically.

"Would you rather stay here for the next six weeks?" Hermione said.

Mafloy glared at her.

"That's what I thought," said Hermione. She got the wheelchair out of the hall closet and brought it into the guestroom. She unfolded it and set it next to the bed. "Here, Malfoy, put your arms around my neck."

"Why?" He said suspiciously.

"So that I can lift you into the chair," sighed Hermione. Malfoys were such babies. Draco gaped at her, but did as he was told. Hermione was about to lift him into the chair when she realized how heavy he was. He wasn't flabby at all, but had hard muscles that were just dead weight without the use of his legs.

"Can't you help at all?" Hermione grunted as she tried for the fourth time to lift him into the chair.

"No, I can't. Nice skill, Granger. Remind me to never recommend you for a job in St. Mungo's," Malfoy said.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione finally half lifted, half dragged him into the wheelchair. "Well," she said, breathing heavily, "I got my work out for the day."

"Shut up, Granger," Malfoy said.

Hermione wheeled him out to the living room and turned on the TV. Then she went to the laundry room and brought out the basket of clothes. She flipped through channels until she came to a mildly interesting program that looked like a soap opera. She began pulling clothes out of the basket and folding them. She had been folding for a few minutes and was watching an unusually witty commercial when Malfoy said,

"Is that YOURS, Granger?!" Hermione realized she was folding a pink lacy bra that belonged to her mother. She broke up laughing.

"No, Malfoy," said Hermione through her giggles, "this isn't mine, it's my mother's," Malfoy turned a brilliant shade of red. "I take a slightly smaller size, but I'll be sure and tell mum that you were impressed," Hermione said, still laughing hysterically.

"I wasn't impressed, Granger," he sneered. "I was just wondering if you were even more of freak of nature than I thought."

Hermione instantly sobered. "Like you can talk, Malfoy. You forget, I was the one who changed you into my father's pajamas when you were unconscious. Wasn't exactly impressed by what I found," Hermione was lying, but Malfoy didn't know that. He paled.

"Shut up, Granger. What is this bloody box anyway?" he asked, pointing at the TV.

"It's called a television," said Hermione, speaking very slowly, as though she were talking to a child. "It works similarly to wizarding photographs, but the pictures tell a story, if you listen to the sound. Here, I'll show you," Hermione turned up the volume and Malfoy started to pay attention. After a few minutes, he was completely engrossed. Hermione smiled.

She finished sorting the clothes and went to owl Dumbledore.

'Dear Professor,' she wrote.

'Malfoy has woken up. He's been awake for about two days now, and seems to be acting fine. Or as fine as a Malfoy can act. I just thought you would like to know. Please let me know what to do with him for the time being. I hope to see you soon, Hermione'

She attached the letter to the leg of a large hoot owl named Wilhelmina that she kept around for her own personal use and went back to see how Malfoy was doing. He was still completely caught up in the television program.

And so the days passed. A few days turned into a few weeks and Hermione and Mafloy kept up the same routine; Hermione would introduce Draco to new things and she would do her chores, with a good deal of arguments throw in. They fought almost every hour they were together. The only time a respite from the arguing came when Malfoy and Hermione were watching TV. Hermione rented some videos one day and showed them to him. He particularly enjoyed Star Wars. He distinctly disliked Hermione's favorite movie, The Sound of Music. "All the bloody music is enough to kill any wizard," he said. Then they had another argument about good music vs. bad music. Still, they seemed to reach, certainly not a friendship, but an understanding. They didn't just hate each other any more, even though neither one of them would admit it. Hermione and Dumbledore kept up a running correspondence, particularly in regard to Draco's injuries and recovery. Along about the third week, Hermione received a surprising letter from Professor Dumbledore.

'Dear Hermione, I hope that you and Mr. Malfoy are well. As I have said in my previous letters, it is imperative that his presence at your home be kept a secret. I will be coming later on this afternoon, if that is all right, to talk with the both of you. Do not tell anyone that Draco is at your house or that I am coming. See you later on, I hope. Albus Dumbledore'

Hermione closed the letter and thought. What was so important that Dumbledore was coming here? Wasn't school starting in just a few weeks? Shouldn't he be doing other things? Hermione had done as he had said and kept Malfoy's presence at her house a secret, even from her closest friends in the muggle world. But why? Why was all this secrecy necessary? And why hadn't Draco's parents tried to find him. She had been in touch with Ron and no one had said anything about Draco Malfoy being missing. Everything was quite normal in the wizarding world. What on earth was going? Hermione felt almost like she was in the first act of Macbeth, where "fair was foul and foul was fair."

Just then, Dumbledore Apparated into the living room.

"Hello, Hermione," he said. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Professor, thank you."

"Where is young Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione pointed to the wheelchair, situated in front of the TV. Malfoy was engrossed in a soap opera.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore said.

"What?" Draco looked up. Hermione flipped off the TV.

"I believe we have some things we need to discuss."

"I have nothing to discuss with you, old man," said Malfoy, his usual persona coming back into play.

Dumbledore didn't look phased by the insult. "I'm afraid we do, Mr. Malfoy. It pertains to a small incident approximately one month ago involving your father."

At this, Malfoy paused. His usually stony face dissolved into an expression of weariness. "All right," said Malfoy. "But Granger can't hear what we're going to say. I don't trust her."

"Well, what a nice thing to say, Malfoy," said Hermione. "I was going to go up to my room anyway." Imagine, Malfoy not trusting her, Hermione thought on her way up the stairs. If anything, she should be the one to not trust him. Hermione went up to her room and was tempted to listen to their conversation through the ventilation system in the house, but decided that if she really wanted Draco to trust her, she probably should just leave well enough alone. But then, why would she want Draco to trust her?

After about an hour and a half, Hermione was beginning to get extremely bored and hungry when Dumbledore called up to her that she could come downstairs now.

Hermione practically galloped down the stairs. She stopped short when she noticed that Malfoy had lost his usual look of tightly controlled emotion. He looked nothing but terrified now. "What's the matter, Draco?" Hermione asked.

"None of your bloody business, Granger," Malfoy snarled. Hermione looked hurt. She thought they had reached at least an understanding.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said to her privately. "He's dealing with some very big things right now. It might be best if you just leave him alone," Hermione nodded and Dumbledore Apparated away.

There was silence for a full five minutes before the distraught look on Draco's face distressed Hermione so much that she finally asked him, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do, Draco?"

"Bloody Mudblood, just leave me alone!" he shouted at her. "I'm sick and tired of being stuck in this hell-hole all day having to listen to you and your bitchy parents complain about your pathetic muggle lives!"

Malfoy didn't have a chance to say any more. Something inside of Hermione had snapped when he said something about her parents. All the years of insults, all the hours of torture, had finally taken their toll. The camel's back had finally been broken, and, unfortunately for him, the straw that had broken it had been Draco.

"Don't you DARE say that about my parents!" Hermione screamed back at him. "I don't care if you insult me or my house or my cooking or my life! Just don't you ever say one damn thing about my parents! Everyone at school was right, you are an insufferable bastard. I hope you rot in hell," Hermione stomped up to her room and slammed the door behind her. Malfoy could stay downstairs and take care of himself for the next few hours until her parents got home and they could help him.

A/N 1: Okay, I know, it was REALLY boring. But I had to do something! I promise, the next chapter will better. I'm sorry I'm not one of those great writers who can hold your attention through an atomic blast, but I can't help it. Anyway, please review. I don't care if you hated it, just tell me so. I know where this is going, so don't worry, the next chapter will be much more interesting. Sorry! Don't hurt me! The next chapter should be up in a week or so!

A/N 2: Sorry it took so long, I was having technology problems. My teachers are starting to pile on the homework and I've been getting busier and busier as the week goes on, so it might be awhile before the next update. But I haven't abandoned the story, don't worry. It just might take awhile. I hope you like this chapter! I'll have the next one up soon, I hope!