Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize in the Harry Potter books.
Chapter V: The Letter
"Hermione! Hermione! Hermione!" Draco shouted slightly shaking her.
Hermione woke up with a start, screaming her lungs out. She quickly sat up, forgetting her (ahem) situation.
"Hey!" Draco exclaimed, turning around and shoving a towel at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Sorry," she panted, completely out of breath. She wrapped the towel around her, still remembering the feeling of pure pain from her dream. Was it a dream? Hermione sighed. Of course it was a dream. There was neither Lucius in sight nor any of the Parkinsons.
"What happened?" Draco asked.
"I had a nightmare." Hermione noticed that Draco looked troubled by this for a second, though it was gone in the blink of an eye. What was that about
'It was a dream, wasn't it?' she thought to herself, bothered by Draco's unsettling, though momentary, reaction.
"I think you should sit down first," Draco said, leading Hermione into the room and letting her sit on the bed.
"Do you think your parents heard me?"
"No," he answered calmly. "My room's charmed to keep sound inside. No one from outside can hear any noise made from in here. What was the dream about?" he asked trying to make the conversation as normal as possible. He went over to light the lamp on the desk beside his bed.
"It was about…" Hermione started, feeling silly to be worried about just a little dream. "It was about your father finding out about me." And with that finally said, it was as if she was feeling the pain again. She hugged herself to shake off the feeling.
Draco decided not to ask any more questions. "Don't worry about it," he said in a slightly comforting tone. "I'll find a way for you to get out of here. Potter and Weasley would kill me if they knew something happened to you in our house. And I'm looking forward to having no assignments for the rest of the year," he added in jest while fixing two cups of tea, which he brought up after the party. He gave one to Hermione, who received it with a quiet "Thanks".
"Yeah," Hermione answered lightening up. "Oh, I haven't written to Harry and Ron yet," she remembered. "Malfoy," she said amusement radiating from her voice "Haven't you seen a woman's body before?" she asked.
A hint of color stained his pale complexion. A brow was lifted. Being the Malfoy that he was, Draco easily thought of a comeback. "It was the first time I saw a mudblood's," he said with a calculated calmness, though inside really he was laughing and enjoying her embarrassed expression.
"Here," he said, handing her a quill, parchment and a long-sleeved polo shirt which was long enough to reach Hermione's thighs. She was supposed to wear that? It was the sort used inside the house. She sighed. She figured they were in some sort of truce or something because Draco was helping her, but that still didn't remove the awkwardness she felt. After all, he was still Draco—her enemy since her first year at Hogwarts. Well, she hasn't got any other choice, has she? Anyway, it's not like he'd have any perverted thoughts, especially on her. Then the thought of the scene at the bathroom slipped into her mind. And then to top it off with that careless question! She shouldn't have teased him and was now regretting the act. She couldn't help the blush creeping. Luckily, Draco wasn't there to see her. He went to the bathroom to take a shower.
She decided to take this time to put on the clothes quickly. Then started writing the letter.
When Draco returned Hermione was already on the bed. "Finished the letter?" he asked. He should have been annoyed, really. But seeing her on his often too large bed, he couldn't help but feel a strange comfort.
"Yeah," she answered drowsily. He looked at the desk and saw the neatly folded parchment with the quill on top of it.
"Hey," he suddenly said, "who told you you're sleeping on the bed? I should think you're sleeping on the couch." Hermione sat up quickly, his words pulling her back from sleeping consciousness. The fault was hers, she consented. It was his room and she had no business assuming… anything, really. She already owed him. She knew that, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She couldn't stop the pout from forming and disguised it by looking menacingly at Draco. "Jerk," she muttered and started up.
"I was just joking," he said with amusement. He'd rather die than tell anybody, but the hastily cloaked pout arrested him. "But don't expect me to sleep on the couch."
"Whatever," she answered, going back to the position she was in a while ago. She was quite flustered at seeing Draco putting on a shirt and buried her face in the covers so that he could not see her scarlet face. Moments later, she heard the door silently shut and when she looked realized that Draco had already taken the letter.
"Thank You," she quietly said to the air around her, obviously addressing it to him. After that, she finally went to sleep.
Harry woke up to the sudden tapping on his window. He groggily got out of bed and went to the windowpane to let in a very handsome eagle owl, which looked quite familiar. It dropped a letter on his bed and swooped out the room as quickly as it had come. He looked at the clock and it read five minutes past twelve. Nobody sends an owl at that late an hour, except of course it was something very important. He turned to the letter and opened it. He immediately recognized Hermione's neat handwriting and started reading the letter.
"Ron,'' he shouted, thunderstruck, waking Seamus and Dean, too. Good thing Neville was staying with his grandmother for the holiday or he would've awakened the whole school by screaming, probably thinking that Voldemort had snuck into their room.
"What happened?" Dean asked sleepily.
"Is there a problem, Harry?" Seamus added.
"RON," Harry yelled exasperatedly, seeing Ron didn't even stir. "Wake up. It's about Hermione." That did the trick. He sat up fully awake, scrambled out of bed and went over to Harry. Seamus and Dean did the same.
"What happened? Where is she? Is she all right? Is she still angry at me? " Ron poured one question after the other. Harry rolled his eyes and just gave him the letter to read.
After he finished reading the letter out loud, Dean said: "Hey, what's this?" and picked up a piece of paper that fell when Harry opened Hermione's letter.
"Potter," he read to the others. "You better have something for me once I return your mudblood girlfriend. And don't write back. My father might get a hold of it."
"Malfoy," Ron concluded before Dean could read the signature. He had an unexplainable mixture of emotions on his face. Worry and rage were the most distinguishable of all. After that, there was a very long pause.
"What do you reckon we should do?" Harry finally asked.
"Go to Dumbledore," Ron answered automatically.
"But the Hermione asked us to make excuses for her," Dean argued. "She wouldn't want us to tell anyone yet."
"Yeah, but Hermione might be in real trouble. I mean it is Malfoy. Why would he help her? Don't you think it's suspicious? Maybe he just forced her to write the letter," Ron debated.
"I don't think so," Seamus discussed. "See the letter? If she was forced, the writing shouldn't have been so neatly written. It would have had at least the tiniest sign of a shaking hand. But it was written calmly. No quivering whatsoever."
"Seamus has a point," Harry said.
"But Hermione might be in trouble. Ok, let's just say that Malfoy is helping her out. There is still Lucius. The chances of them getting out of there is a hundred-to-one," Ron reasoned. He would not just leave Hermione to Malfoy without taking action. Just the thought of her with him made him mad.
The three pondered on what he said.
"Even though we do tell Dumbledore, I don't think he can do very much," Harry said. "I mean, it is Lucius' territory. It could even put Hermione in more danger. But I think you're right, Ron. Professor Dumbledore will know what to do. For now, let's just try to get some sleep. Let's talk to him first thing in the morning."
Hermione woke up early the next morning light-headed. Her eyes didn't seem to want to open yet. She couldn't even feel her limbs! She had the weirdest dream about getting lost in a strange house and Draco—of all people—was helping her out.
What was happening to her? She was never like this. She tried to gather her senses. Well, at least she was warm. And what the heck was that scent? There was something just wrong with it: it was downright addictive. That was it. Nothing should be that addictive, she thought as she breathed in another lungful. Well, who cared? As long as she was comfortable… and boy was she comfortable.
Yes, all that sluggishly slipped inside her still hazy head, which, for her sake, should have stayed hazy. But as her mind managed another gallop into consciousness she realized that she was clinging onto something, and that that damned scent was familiar. Yet another gallop had her flinging her eyes open wide and praying for deliverance. Oh dear God, let it be a mistake.
But it was he. Draco. And she was clinging to him. CLINGING! Her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and she was snuggled against him. And the fact that his arm was circling her waist did nothing to relieve her. Heck, it made the situation worse. How was she supposed to escape their jumble now?
Let's try little by little, she thought as she slowly freeing herself from him, painfully fearing that he would awake. Finally, when she'd untangled herself, she sighed deeply, feeling the winter season once again. So much for the warmth.
Regret. It was foolish to feel regret… if that was what she was feeling. He probably would have had booted her out if he knew that they were… touching. Or, he might have laughed and teasingly blamed her. He could already hear him: "You couldn't keep you hands off me, eh, mudblood?" Though of course he would completely ignore the fact that his hands were on her too. Yes, she didn't know what his reaction would be. She didn't know him, she admitted. She thought she did, especially at the time when all he did when she was around was spite her. But now…
She stealthily went to the bathroom. When she entered, the first thing that caught her eye was a simple yet gorgeous robe.
"You can wear that for today." Hermione felt the heat creep up her face and neck. Did he just wake up or did he know about their situation awhile ago?
Hermione looked around and noticed that the windowless room was now brighter than last night. The sun-shaped candle was now somewhere to the northeast, exchanging places with the moon. Both it and the stars now gave a very faint glow. On the other hand, the flowers were still at their fixed places but appeared brighter and livelier.
She briefly took a shower then put on the beautiful dress. She felt awkward at the feel of it at first but the feeling eventually left. She combed her hair in front of a mirror and noticed, for the first time, that her hair had become, though still wavy, somewhat straighter and sleeker, framing her face. She dismissed her overlooking this change by 'studying too much.' When she went out, Draco was already sitting on the side of the bed, still looking a bit haggard.
He wasn't really a morning person. He needed a couple of minutes to be himself. Then he saw her and it was as if his mind did a fast-forward. She was gorgeous. He wouldn't tell her that, of course, but oh well, there was no use lying to himself. "I'm going down to get something to eat," he said.
Draco came in with the tray of food floating behind him. He placed it on the table and went to his bed.
She heard Draco yawn and turned to see him reclining once again on his bed.
"Don't tell me you're going back to sleep," Hermione said with wonder.
"Of course I am. What else is there to do?"
"Help me find a way out of here," she suggested. "And aren't you even going to eat?"
"I'm fine. And I'll help you find a way out when you finish eating." He said assuring her.
"Oh," she said remembering the food. "Ok then. When I finish, you're going to help me."
"Certainly. Just don't forget our deal."
"You don't have to remind me every time, you know. I think of it enough times already without your help," she said a little bit annoyed. But Draco didn't hear her. He had already dozed off. Hermione rolled her eyes resignedly.
Hermione ate quickly, not finishing the food. Then she went over to Draco, placing her head above his face and shaking him gently to wake him up. At first, Draco thought it was an angel. Good thing her caught himself just in time, before he reached up and touched her face. It was bad enough that mudblood was staying with him, sleeping in the same room with him. But embarrassing himself in front of the said mudblood was a bitt too much. He didn't even know why he was helping her.
"Hey, I've finished eating," Hermione said enthusiastically. "Let's go!" That explained her zeal.
"What do you mean 'let's go'? You're staying here," Draco said callously. Ok, so her waking him up put him in a bad mood. Or more accurately, her almost making him do something foolish.
"What do you mean? Why?" Hermione exclaimed dismayed.
"My father might see you if you go out of this room."
"What was the point of waiting for me to finish eating?"
Draco fixed her with a steely glare. "Because I wanted some rest before I went out to help you find your way out of here." He knew that would make her feel guilty. That it would make her shut up, and he was using it against her.
"But what am I going to do here?" she sulked. That damned pout again. He mentally guarded himself against it before he did anything rash.
"You love reading, right." Hermione nodded. "Then read," Draco continued. The shelf's full of books. You can read whatever you like."
"But…"
"You really should learn to get along with what you have, mudblood." He shot her a warning glance. "You're not the only one who's going to get into trouble if my father found out you're here.
Hermione was taken aback. He had no right to tell her that. On second thought, he had. Hermione didn't want to admit it but he was right—she wasn't the only one in danger. The moment Draco decided to help her out he had taken a very great risk.
Hermione sighed. "Ok."
"Good. Now stay put. I really don't have to tell you twice. What trouble you are when there's no teacher around!"
Now Hermione was really furious. "I'm no teacher's pet, if that's what you mean," she managed to say calmly. "I earn every grade I receive from the professors, and you know that."
"Whatever," Draco said casually, knowing that this reply would make her angrier. And it did. After making the tray of food disappear with a flick of his wand, Draco opened the door without saying a word.