Chapter warning: dubious/ambiguous consent.
Hours later, guilt slightly ameliorated through hours of planning to rescue Draco's mother, Hermione went back to her dorm. She found the Sleeping Potion Draco had sent her and the best Irish whiskey she had, and snuck down to the hospital wing.
He was the only patient there. Hermione silently sat down next to him in the otherwise empty wing, casting the evil Prince's Muffliato at all the doors and setting her gifts on his bedside table, already covered with Pansy's creature comforts. She pulled painfully on a hangnail, curiosity and cowardice making her want to both immediately wake him up, and also run away and never face him again.
There were painful looking slashes in his face and neck, but the worst part was how pale Draco looked. He was always pale, and his skin tone had drifted further away from life and closer to death with the stress of this year, but this was different. It looked like Harry had cut out what little colour he had left.
Hermione threw manners out the window and grabbed the bottle she had brought with her as a gift, opening it and pouring what she estimated was a couple of fingers of whiskey directly into her throat.
"Surely y-"
"Agh!" she yelped, painfully clinking the bottle on her teeth as she jumped with surprise. Draco stared at her, and Hermione privately agreed that such shock that he had woken up was ridiculous. Embarrassed, she thrust the bottle out towards him, looking away.
Draco sat up and took it from her. "Thanks."
"It's a gift," Hermione whispered. "It was rude of me to open it."
"And yell at me. You're the one who snuck up on someone who was sleeping." She couldn't help but turn back to stare at him as he drunk from the bottle. "Oh, this isn't bad. You were saving this for a bad day, huh?"
Guilty, hot tears bubbled over her eyelids. "Draco, I'm so sor-"
"No. No being upset. It was Potter, not you," he interrupted, shaking his head firmly.
"I have failed all year to keep him from you," Hermione replied, tilting her head up as she tried and failed to stem the tears. "Why did you try to crucio him?"
She saw Draco look away too in her peripheral vision, even though she wasn't looking at him. "It was a fight, Hermione," he said, voice stony. "You cast curses."
"We fight all the time. You've never tried to do that to me," she whispered back miserably.
Draco made an annoyed noise and rolled his eyes. "Of course I haven't…I don't hate you. And…no," he trailed off lamely, continuing to avoid her gaze.
Hermione balanced her feet on the edge of his bed and hugged her knees, hiding her tears behind them. "I've worked all night on how to break your mum out," she mumbled. "I'll keep at it. Every hour I have."
She wiped her eyes and threw her head up, wanting to change the subject. "Just imagine. On the run with your mother," she imagined out loud, wanting to distract them both with a made up story. "I bet none of us can cook. We'll all be so grumpy."
"It'll be only half as painful as bringing a girlfriend home to meet her under normal circumstances," he said, handing her back the whiskey. "Theo has this plan to tell his dad he's gay at the same time as introducing the boyfriend. I think there's something to it."
Hermione hiccupped. "Muggles call it the bed of nails. You don't notice how bad one nail when there's many." She took another sip of whiskey, the tears fading under the heavy comfort of alcohol. "But somehow I think Narcissa will manage."
"No, I think it'll work," Draco disagreed. "That's exactly it. Like, I bet the fact your parents aren't independently wealthy isn't even going to register."
"Ugh," Hermione grumbled as he laughed.
"Do you know how much pureblood marriage grief this is going to save, Hermione?" he said, opening the packet of sugar quills Pansy had left. "There's normally interviews, and chaperones, and family jewellery exchanges, and contracts. I'll escape all of it."
"Your mother is never giving up on marrying her only son to a suitable witch," she replied, taking one of his sugar quills and tipping whiskey on it. "Especially if you kidnap her with a wayward woman."
"Maybe you're right," Draco said, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she shoved an entire whiskeyed sugar quill in her mouth. "Nothing for it, then - I'll just have to get you pregnant."
She choked loudly and leaned forward to shove Draco, who was cracking up at her reaction. They wasted another half hour drinking and rummaging through Pansy's numerous gifts.
"Ok," Hermione said, deciding to bring this visit to a close now that Draco had moved onto dramatically reading their love horoscopes and deciding she was destined to have a torrid affair with Colin Creevey. "We should get some sleep. When do you think you'll get out of here?" She stood up and looked for her bag.
"Snape reckoned a week," Draco replied. Hermione pulled some of her prison break research books out of her bag and shoved them under his bed.
"You'll have time to work on my plan rather than your plan, then," she said, standing up and kicking the books closer to his bedside table. "I'll bring more books tomorrow." She gasped and grabbed Draco's hand as a realisation hit her.
"Your mother! Will she come up to the school? Because you've been injured? Maybe we could grab her then?"
But Draco shook his head. "Snape already said she's not leaving the house. He's here, and that's good enough, apparently." He pulled out of her grasp and drummed his fingers on his elbow.
"O-oh," Hermione said, her rush of excitement hitting a stone wall at his response. She felt like there was a lot not being said. "I'm sorry, I just thought –"
"Yeah," he cut her off, obviously not wanting to talk about it.
Hermione let it go, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Do you have your watch, by the way? I messaged you but –"
"Oh," Draco said, rolling up his sleeve and taking his watch off. "Yeah, I was out, so…"
He read her earlier message, asking where he was, and looked up at her. Hermione smiled.
"Yeah, it's fine. I'm glad you're ok," she said, holding her bag strap. "I can come by tomorrow night, if you want?"
Draco frowned at her. "Of course I want," he replied. "Were you planning on not visiting? I'll be so bored."
"Ok, I'll be here," she said. "Get some sleep. See you tomorrow."
She Disillusioned and walked back to her dorm, thinking of how shattering the past few days of highs and lows felt. Her thoughts kept circling back to the trace of colour across Draco's cheeks that the whiskey had returned to him.
She was back, a few hours sleep, distracted classes, and about eight dedicated research hours later. There were even more gifts by Draco's bed, so much so they were overflowing: piled up on the floor as well as stacked high on the bedside table.
"Look how popular you are," Hermione remarked, sitting down beside him and realising the pile of gifts stacked higher than the top of her head. "Look," she said, gesturing the height difference between the gifts and her head. "That's ridiculous."
"I don't know if Pansy and my mother count towards popularity," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. Hermione picked up a card on a precariously balanced tropical fruit basket and flipped it open, reading the message aloud.
"'Get well soon Draco! I'm so sorry you're in the hospital wing! I'm telling everyone that Potter tried to kill you but he couldn't take you down. I know you like pineapple, but I also got mango and lychee. Love, your best friend Pansy. Xoxox.'" She couldn't help it; a frown reached her face as she considered Pansy's light-hearted well wishes.
"You're lucky to have such a good friend," Hermione eventually said. She doubted Harry or Ron knew what her favourite food was. Draco snorted.
"Thought you said my friends were shit," he said.
"I'm glad you have Pansy," she tried to force out, but her voice was so small it might have become a mumble. Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed the fruit basket.
"Well, I'm glad your friends are shit. Otherwise you might never have hung out with me." He started slicing up the pineapple with his wand.
"Not all my friends are shit," she replied, and Draco laughed at her admission, handing her a pineapple slice. "I've mentioned the idea to Harry about Dobby, by the way."
"Did it go ok?" he asked, starting to work on a mango.
"Dunno," Hermione said; she had whispered it hurriedly in Harry's ear at dinner as she forced down some salad and potatoes while skim reading the containment chapter of Dragon Chasing in the Americas as fast as possible. She didn't notice anything from Harry aside from a vague acknowledgement. "I'm gonna have to wait a while to bring it up again though. But we can keep researching in the meantime." She twisted her sticky fingers. "I think we've done all we can on protections that might be on your home for now. While we wait, I think we shift our focus to detainment options."
"There's a letter from my mother under some of this crap," Draco said, jerking his head towards the mountain of gifts. "I'd like your view of my chances of persuading her." He continued slicing fruit like his only interest in the world was perfectly peeling a mango.
Hermione started placing the various gifts on the ground, looking for an envelope or letter with fancy script. Narcissa did not disappoint – an ostentatious wax seal caught her eye. She opened the letter and started reading.
My dearest Draco,
I am so glad you are alright, and so sorry you were hurt. Severus told me what happened. I thank the gods every night he is able to protect you so. Potter very well may have killed you if not for him. I am beside myself that he tried to take away my son as well as your father. In the cleansed future he will not be able to hurt us anymore, but the present is so dangerous.
Severus has said he could do more to help you, but you refuse. June is almost here, Draco. Please accept all the help he wants to give you. You are only sixteen, the burdens placed on you are too great for one young man. You must return to me safely. The greatest honour to the Malfoy family would be your safe return.
All my love and prayers with you,
Mum x
Hermione looked up at him, but the tense look on his face made her swallow her immediate burning question – Draco had already made it clear he did not want to talk about Snape.
"Well," she started. "This is a letter written for potential interception at Hogwarts, so there might be some missing content. But as it is, I think this letter holds a lot of promise, Draco."
He had abandoned his fruit basket entirely. "You do?" he whispered. She could tell he was scared to believe her.
She nodded, and leant over to show him particular parts of the letter. "Yes. Look, her first remark is about your wellbeing." She skipped over the glaring references to Professor Snape. "This reference at the end is quite bold, too. I take it there are differing views as to what would bring the greatest honour to the Malfoy House."
"There certainly are," Draco breathed out.
Hermione knew it was childish, but the conclusion made her feel sad and lonely. "Your mother loves you very much. If you force her hand, I think you can at least convince her not to drag you both back to Voldemort." She handed him the letter, and then stood up.
"Well, uh, I should get going."
Draco tore his gaze from his mother's loving words to look at her. "Huh? Why? You just got here."
"Yeah, well," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder mechanically, blinking through a feeling of déjà vu. "Lots to do. Let me know when you're through these," she said, kicking the books under his bed. "Write up what you find and add it to these." She handed over three scrolls worth of notes on household wards and barriers, and how they could be overcome or avoided.
He frowned, covered in parchment and pineapple. "Why are you upset?"
"I'm…doesn't matter," she said flatly, deciding not to lie after already opening her mouth. "I'll bring you my latest work tomorrow night."
Hermione turned to leave, but he caught her by surprise before she reached the door, silenced by all the charms she had applied to the ward to avoid detection. Draco threw his arms over her shoulders and leant on her, grabbing her right hand so she could not turn the door handle.
"Augh! Draco, get off –"
"No chance. Your friends really let you leave like that?"
"I have to go figure out how to imprison your mum!" Hermione hissed, trying and failing to turn around and push him off.
"Yes, I know Hermione is feeling hard done by," Draco replied, and she felt a soft kiss on the top of her head.
Enraged, she elbowed him hard in the ribs, and when his weight on her finally shrunk back in response, she swivelled around and shoved him. "Fuck you!" she shouted, giving in to her anger at him. "You don't even need my help –"
He picked her up into a bear hug, trapping her arms to her sides as she tried in vain to wriggle out of his grip. "Of course I need your help," he said, voice thick with laughter and affection. "Hermione, you're so strange. Why do you keep making me fall more in love with you? Gods, you have a funny way of being jealous."
His odd happiness at her anger made Hermione suddenly remember a fight she had with Ron in fourth year, where they stood several feet apart and screamed at each other as hard as they could. The dissonance bubbled up through her limited sleep and resilience - she started to cry miserably. Hermione could feel a soft laugh vibrate through Draco's body as tears dripped down her face, fast as rain.
"Ah, don't cry, Granger…"
He finally let her down and placed her on the ground, where she swayed on the spot, wiping her face on her sleeves. She felt him hit her with a Calming Charm.
"Lots of people pushing you hard, right?" he said, pulling her down to sit beside him on one of the beds, arm wrapped around her waist to hold her in place. The calmness spell broke down any self-control she had left, and she fell forward, sobbing while she hugged her knees. "I guess Potter's got you working on stuff too…and I know you help out Weasley."
She shook her head.
"No?" he asked. Hermione gasped for breath and forced it out. She couldn't listen to his inaccuracies anymore.
"All I do…is try to stop you. With the cabinet. I don't have time for anything else!" Hermione wailed and grabbed her head with her hands. "I had to stop helping Harry! I'm trading horcrux research time to stop you killing children! Why would you do this? I can't ask you to stop!" The hysteria took grip again, and she fell into unrestrained sobs. Draco didn't say anything; he grew very still next to her as she cried uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he eventually said quietly. "I shouldn't have told you."
"Y-you shouldn't be doing this," Hermione said shakily, pressing her eyeballs into her skull to try and make the tears stop. "I don't understand you at all." There was another still, silent moment where the only activity was her shaking sobs.
"That makes two of us," Draco eventually replied, his voice strained. "I have to do it. But I shouldn't have put it on your shoulders."
He took her left hand and started brushing kisses and apologies over her damp fingers, palm, and wrist. Hermione knew what he was doing, but the despair he had pulled her into was so vast. Even though it made her angrier, the rage could not compare to her desperate desire to stop feeling such grief.
"You made me forget," he whispered, his treacherous attention turning to her face and neck. "Too easy to forget with you, Hermione." She closed her eyes and turned away, but Draco just took the opportunity to kiss the tears on her cheeks, sending a shudder down her body.
"Don't do this to me," she whispered back to him. "Haven't you done enough?"
He leant down to start kissing her neck and Hermione couldn't stop the sigh escape from her throat. Draco pulled her across him.
"No," he said, harsh and unrelenting. She felt her integrity snap and wash out with a tide of need and sadness. He refused to let go, gripping her shoulder like she was somehow going to run away from his mouth and his fingers and his evil whispering. And when she first came and a fresh set of tears splashed down her face with the release, Draco crushed her under his body and thrust into her until she moaned, and screamed, and finally grew quiet, face dry of tears.