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Chapter Nineteen A Normal Confused Male Very Late At Night

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"Right now she has her broken bones healed, her cuts are healing, and she does not feel any pain. This is the best we can do right now." Dr. Wink nodded to him and left the room before he could question her anymore. Draco fell helplessly back on the bed. He watched her sleep until he had lulled himself into a similar state.

TBC

"Hi." She whispered softly. Draco opened his eyes and peered at Hermione.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" Draco asked blearily. He had been at her side for the past 2 days, and knew by now not to expect sanity from Hermione's mutterings. Her physical health was steadily progressing forward, but her mental state had remained the same.

"Yes." She smiled weakly. "You saved me, thank you." Draco peered suspiciously at her.

"Who am I?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Where are we?"

"In a bed. And judging by the colours it's either in Malfoy Manor or Snape's house…"

"Malfoy Manor… you're really talking to me!" Draco smiled as he gazed at her, a little shocked and a little dazed from his awakening.

"Thank you. I didn't think you would come for me."

"I thought you didn't want to come here… I thought you wanted to stay with Don. I just came to... I'm so happy I found you. You almost died Hermione." He shook his head, and a shadow passed across her gaunt face.

"Where is he?" She asked, knowing Draco would understand whom she meant.

"I don't know. He wasn't there when I came for you."

"I hope he's okay…" She turned onto her back, looking worried. Draco sat up and stared down at her.

"I hope he's rotting in a shallow grave! You didn't "almost die" Hermione, you were almost murdered! BY HIM!"

"He didn't mean it. He was only doing it for my own good." Hermione explained patiently.

"Your own good?" Draco asked incredulously, feeling her forehead… she must still be feverish.

"To punish me for my bad ways! To cure me of them."

"Hermione, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life, except maybe befriending those two dunces Harry and Ron."

"You must not understand. I'm evil. You must not go to church very often. I tempt men and destroy them because I am a creature of Satan."

"Who told you that?"

"Don. But I already knew myself. He was just trying…"

"Trying to manipulate you, Hermione. Playing a sick psychological game with you. He is responsible for all his own doings, and so is every other man on this planet. You have no power over them that is not imagined in their own heads. An eight-year-old girl doesn't willingly set out to seduce men. And if Satan does exist, he usually goes for people like Hitler and Voldemort when he wants to do his work on earth." Hermione watched him confusedly.

"Do you believe that?" She asked weakly, yawning as she peered at him in the semi-darkness.

"With all my heart." Draco said earnestly. She opened her mouth to say something, but was asleep before she managed it.

The convalescence was slow and painful. Dr. Wink insisted it was normal, but after another few days, Hermione was still not allowed to stir from bed. It was the 20th of December. They had to return to Hogwarts on January 3rd.

Hermione listened very carefully. Draco had gone out to play Quidditch and Dr. Wink was visiting another patient. She heard no footsteps. She flipped the covers back and planted her feet on the ground. She stood up, swaying unsteadily at the rush of blood to her head. Using the wall to support her, she made her way to the door and opened it. No one was outside, to her infinite luck. She made her way down the hall and opened the first door she saw. Thankfully, it was exactly what she was looking for… the library! Things were going very well. She made her way to the bookcase and managed to spot, in what she considered an Act of God, her favourite book.

"Hogwarts: A History!" She exclaimed, excitedly reaching for the book, only to discover it was out of her reach. She frowned and pulled a stool over to the shelf, clambering up on it and reaching for the book. She grabbed it and suddenly felt weak. She leaned against the bookshelf, opening the familiar tome and turning to the Gryffindor section. She heard a voice cleared behind her, and turned to meet Draco's calm face and his stormy grey eyes,

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be in bed!" He chided, distracted by her bare legs covered in red marks from evidently, a belt. Her short white nightgown left so many scars revealed. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the arc along the back of her calf. She gasped in surprise and let go of the shelf which had been supporting her, collapsing half on the stool, half in Draco's arms, with Hogwarts: A History on top.

"Sorry" she murmured, gazing up at him. He gazed back.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED YOURSELF!" He stared down at her for a moment before he abruptly threw the book down, picked her up and carried her, kicking and slashing, back to her room, where he lay her on the bed with surprising gentleness, before storming hastily out before Hermione had a chance to inquire after his change in mood. The next time she attempted to venture outside her room she was met by the stern countenance of Henry, who dispassionately informed her it was his duty to ensure she did not leave her chamber.

Luckily, the next day, Dr. Wink proclaimed Hermione able to go out and about the Manor, though she must be kept inside for another few days. The doctor said that her "work here is finished, Mistress Hermione, take your vitamins, take care of the weather, and do not get into any more trouble with that man." It was best if she stay close to the Master Malfoy, Anna advised sagely, earning her a glare from her young and stubborn patient.

Hermione had not seen Draco since he had so unceremoniously left her the day before. But now she resolutely put on her slippers and robe, and tromped down the hallway, ignoring Henry's disapproving glower. She opened every door she passed, until she struck luck and peered into a room to meet Draco's surprised countenance. He was sitting on what presumably was his bed, wearing Quidditch robes and putting on his socks.

"Excuse me, have you never heard of knocking? What are you doing out of your room? Where is Henry?" Draco looked at her suspiciously. Hermione smiled smugly.

"Doctor's orders… I must get some exercise by walking around the Manor. And doing homework. We've got to get started on that project about Elsabeth Fedoso." Draco flushed red.

"Err, speaking of that, Hermione… the thing is, I… well since you were ill and all, I finished it without you…"

"WHAT?! DRACO! We're supposed to work together, and I want to see it, it's probably terrible…."

"Listen Hermione, I found out some things about Elsabeth, and I… I finished the project in any case. You've been sick. The matter is closed." He looked sternly at her. Hermione would have argued if she hadn't suddenly felt very sick. She turned away from him, stumbling a little and leaning on the wall outside his door. She doubled over, holding her knees. Draco was at her elbow in a second. "Are you alright?" He asked worriedly. She nodded impatiently, pushing him away as she straightened.

"I'm going downstairs." Hermione spoke shortly before she veered toward the stairs. Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed her elbow, determined to at least escort her down if she was so determined. It would do no good to have her fall down the curving marble staircase and break her pretty neck.

She ate dinner with him at the dining-room table that evening. Her trunk had finally been put in her room, and she was wearing her own clothing. She had not put much thought into her outfit, and wore simply black pants and a long baggy red sweater that had been her fathers. Before she had borrowed it. Or, in his words, 'made off with it like an unashamed thief in the broad daylight'.

Draco sat at the other end of the table, picking at the carbonara pasta and steamed broccoli, brooding into the fire, as seemed to be his favourite pastime of late.

"How's the sulking going?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of milk to wash down one of her numerous vitamin and mineral supplements.

"I'm not sulking." Draco said, pouting at her in the manner of a 5-year-old. She merely raised her eyebrows. "Hermione, what are you going to do about Don?" He asked, watching her closely.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was cold and her eyes closed.

"Well you can't just… act as if nothing has happened. You can't go back home while he's there."

"Well, that's what I intend, during spring break." Draco rolled his eyes and looked back into the fire. There was no point arguing with her when he couldn't get through the years of brainwashing.

Hermione awoke in a panic. She was used to the nightmares, but through some fault the house elves had let her light go out. Ever since she had been trapped in the basement she had a terrible fear of the dark. She sat up in the bed, looking around pointlessly. She couldn't see anything. She gathered the bedcovers around her, wondering what she could do. Immediately thought of Draco. Lately, whenever she was in trouble, or upset, he promptly came to mind. She admitted to herself that she had come to trust and depend on him. But since she arrived at the manor he had been unfailingly kind and helpful to her.

She heard a noise in the room. She was sure of it. There was something on the floor, making for the bed… for her. She could already imagine it's touch on her skin… it was all she could do to stifle her scream. She tried to steady her breathing, a tear leaking down her face as she heard more scuffling noises. She shuddered with revulsion at the thought of what might be lurking in the dark. She felt so alone, but she knew that there was something else with her… All of a sudden a light appeared as the door creaked open and a shock of silvery blonde hair appeared.

"Draco…?" She asked desperately. He peered at her in the darkness and came all the way into the room, flicking on the bedside lamp as he sat down next to her.

"What? Are you okay? What's wrong Hermione?" He put his arm around her comfortingly.

"I woke up and the light was out. I was so scared. I think that there's snakes, or rats in here." She looked up at him, biting her lip. Draco patiently checked the room for any intruders, but to her relief, found none.

"I'm glad I checked on you. You would have stayed up all night. I'll have a word with the house elves." Draco smiled reassuringly at her and put a hand on her shoulder, lightly pushing her backward so she lay on the bed, and then standing as he tucked the bedcovers around her. But as soon as he finished, she impatiently pulled her arms out again. Before he had a chance to protest, she had twined them around his neck and brought his face to hers for a gentle, passionate kiss. Draco was so surprised he responded for a moment before pulling away reluctantly and looking down at her furiously.

"Do you remember what I told you?!" He practically yelled, more angry with himself for his ready response that with her. "You are not to kiss me unless you want it! I really really… it bothers me and …" Draco struggled for words to convey his frustration. She was beautiful and she couldn't go on teasing him… but he knew she would not understand that. He glanced down at her and was irked to see her smiling. "I'm serious!" He said exasperatedly.

"Draco, I remembered what you said." She spoke softly. Draco glared at her for a moment, not quite understanding what she meant, but suddenly it dawned on him. His eyes widened and he stood up abruptly, striding to the other side of the room before he turned and regarded her again.

"Hermione…" He began uncertainly.

"I want you. You're the first person I've ever wanted. I… I know these feelings are wrong, but… I'm sorry." Hermione flushed and averted her eyes.

"Hermione! Those feelings aren't wrong. They're natural. You have no reason to be ashamed. But this… it's so soon after everything and everything is so messed up and you don't understand what you're doing… I'm not good for you, Hermione." Draco shook his head, sitting on the bed once again and meeting her eyes.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" She asked, biting her lip again. Draco watched it for a moment before he regained his senses.

"Ugly? You must be… You're beautiful. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I didn't think a human could be as beautiful as you." He said earnestly, lifting her chin and willing her to believe him. She raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah right, what about Cho and Angelina and Ginny and Pansy and Esmé and all the others?" She looked so forlorn and envious that Draco almost laughed.

"Hermione, trust me. Those girls are all very pretty." She sighed and her head drooped. "But you… are a goddess. That night we were on the train, I watched you sleep for so long… you're incredible. You're divine. Honestly. Cross my black Slytherin heart and hope to die." Hermione looked at him for a long time before nodding slightly, at least accepting his sincerity if not his words as facts. She dragged the last of the covers off her lap and made her way over to him, wearing a black tank top and Christmas pyjama pants. Before he knew what she was about, she had toppled him over and was tantalizingly close to his face.

It was very late at night. Or very early in the morning. He did not know what he was doing. He was confused, and what else would any normal male do if he found the girl he loved climbing on top of him.

That was his reasoning as he swiftly swivelled her on to her back and kissed her thoroughly. He was almost lost to his senses before he realized what he had just thought.

The girl he loved?

Loved?

The girl?

He loved?

Girl?

Hermione?

He loved Hermione?

Hermione, the girl he loved?

He sprung off the bed like a pop rocket and stumbled backward into the wall unattractively. Hermione sat up.

"What?" She said, grinning at him, her hair tousled.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT!

TBC