Draco
Infirmary - Hogwarts
April 1996
The real world and his dreams were now one; neither side defined enough to clearly delineate that he was in one over the other.
Potter casting that gruesome spell, and then the copious amounts of blood pouring out of him was the last firm memory he could recall being from the real world.
In this purgatory, there were vague visions of Snape huddled over him, then Madam Pomfery tending to his wounds. Pansy was there too, looking pensive in the corner of some room, watching him like he could go at any second.
Excruciating pain would eviscerate whatever hold on consciousness he had, leaving him hardly able to breathe.
When the pain wavered, the hazy reality remained.
Fiitful nights of sleep would take over, only to plague him with images of Voldemort torturing Granger, him unable to do a thing about it.
In the days, Pansy would be a constant presence, and from what his brain could process, he seemed like a true burden to her schedule. But that was fine. He appreciated being humbled in this confusing existence.
Astoria would appear every so often. She would weep over his chest like he had died. Did he die? He was pretty sure he was still alive.
Theo was there too, standing stoically at what he could only assume was his bedside, looking uncomfortable with worry.
At night, between tortured nightmares, he would have merciful dreams where it was just Granger there with him, safe from any danger. In those dreams, she was not subjected to any threat on her life simply because the wrong person fell for her.
It wasn't clear how many days he was in this altered consciousness, but one day his eyes opened in earnest. The piercing sunlight made it hard to focus.
With his eyes still slits, he saw and heard Astoria there, wailing over him. He shifted slightly under her weight, and then caught Pansy's eyes just over the wailing witch's shoulder. Pansy shook her head softly as if to say, 'pretend you're still asleep'. And he did just that.
In fact, he was still so exhausted that he let sleep take him again. But at least this time, he was in control of it.
That night, which must have been several days from the incident, he let his eyes open again. This time, there was no sunlight to pierce his weary eyes. The room was dim with only the flicker of torches that lined the wall giving texture to his surroundings.
He began to adjust his body in bed, thinking he was finally alone, but then picked up on soft breathing to his side.
A pair of legs were curled up in wooden arm chair to the right of him, in a way that seemed deeply uncomfortable. His eyes trailed up to reveal that it was Granger. She was reading a book with just the light of a nearby candle.
Words didn't come right away, he could only stare at her figure. She wore a jumper and denims, and her hair was let free, cascading over her shoulders; the faint glow of the flames highlighting the rim of her hair.
She looked peaceful, he thought, and he felt a pleasant pressure in his chest. Her face was cast down to the book, her fingers trailing along with her eyes, stretching her neck side to side periodically as she read.
Her gaze stilled, then look out ahead of her, as if she sensed something. Finally, her eyes moved to his. With a jolt, she leapt from where she sat, but instantly calmed her demeanor, seemingly for his sake.
"Draco," she said softly. Two tentative steps towards him was all she took. It was clear from her look that she wasn't one hundred percent sure if he'd want her there.
Logically, no he didn't want her there. If anyone made the connection that anything continued between them, he was painfully certain that something horrific would happen to her when he likely did not kill Dumbledore.
But every fiber of his being that renounced his logical side wanted her there; to feel the weight of her body pressed against him, to have her scold him for something innocuous and then give him a brilliant smile, to run his hands through her hair and take in her scent. She was his only source of peace. He needed her.
"Granger, what are you doing here?" he croaked, not having used his voice for days.
"You haven't been awake, so I just wanted to make sure you were doing OK," she said nervously, now rubbing her arm.
"I'm pretty sure being in the infirmary affords me decent care," he replied. Her face looked hurt, and he immediately regretted saying it. It seemed that pushing her away had become somewhat of a reflex.
"I can go," she began, moving to pick up her book and place it in her bag. He almost sat up to stop her, but his body still felt too weak.
He was exhausted, body and mind. All the energy he had used to push her away before felt like it had evaporated.
"Granger, it's not safe for you to be seen with me," he sighed, looking up to the ceiling.
"Because you're a Death Eater," she answered flatly.
With what strength he had, he rose up to his elbows and looked at her warily. Her expression did not falter; any nervousness she had shown in the moment prior was wiped from her face. She was resolute.
"Draco," she said, taking a step. "you're a Death Eater, aren't you?"
He was mind numbingly exhausted and she was too bright and observant. He couldn't keep up lying to her. He nodded.
"Did you want to become one?" she asked, now stepping closer. His eyes found hers, searching them to understand what she was thinking as she asked these questions.
"No, I didn't want to be one" Draco said flatly, holding her gaze. The slight apprehension that she held in her shoulders dissolved.
"Then why did you?" she questioned softly, her small frame now pressed against his bed, her hands resting on the sheets.
"It was punishment for my father failing at the Ministry," Draco said. Hermione's face paled, knowing she was apart of his father's failure. He reached out for her hand, the movement sending a shooting pain through his body, but he pushed through until he felt the warmth of her hand in his. Touching her again satiated the hollowness within him.
"I could never blame you for him being caught," he told her vehemently, trying to force the look of guilt on her face to fade away. She looked uneasy. "You were there fighting for a friend. He was there on orders from the Dark Lord. One is noble, the other is marching orders."
She turned her wrist in his grip, moving her hand to find the plains of his hand with hers.
Staring at their hands intertwined, it looked as if she was working up the courage to ask something else. After a second, she found the motivation.
"You didn't just push me away because you are a Death Eater, did you?"
His eyes became fixed on the same spot of their hands she focused on.
"No," he whispered, feeling raw at admitting it out loud.
She let her gaze finally find his again. "Can you tell me?" she asked, her hand now squeezing his gently.
His head sank. Merlin did he want to, but what a burden that'd be on her? Not to mention exposing her to exactly what he was trying to protect her from.
"Granger, my Aunt Bellatrix heard about the rumor," Draco began to explain seriously. "The Death Eaters use the people you care about to motivate you. The fact that you're also muggle born and Potter's friend," his voice cut off. He could feel the anger palpitate within him.
Her free hand found the exact place on his chest that felt the rage, and rested it on top atop the spot, cooling his out of control feeling.
She took a breath, seemed to steady herself, and then held his eyes. "Draco you need to know something."
He braced himself, unsure of what she could say to him after everything he just admitted to. Part of him hoped she would tell him she would have nothing to do with him now, and this was good bye. At least she would be safe. But the selfish, desperate side of him wanted her to say she wouldn't go.
"I have come to the conclusion that I won't be able to shake you," she took a breath, Draco watched from where he laid in the hospital bed.
"I've made a choice, and you should know I'm very stubborn once I've decided on something. It's you, and it's always going to be you. I do not care how dangerous that makes matters for me, or what morally questionable problems we have to figure out together. I am not going to change my mind on you."
Draco was about to say something but she steadied her hand on his chest.
"If you do not want me to be around, truly not want me around you, not because you're trying to protect me which I must add, I don't need protecting," she gave him a knowing look, "then I will give that to you. It will not be easy, in the same way us being together wouldn't be easy, but if that is what you truly want, then I understand"
Draco searched her face, looking for any trace of doubt behind her eyes. His quest for answers became distracted as he focused on the freckles he would dream about, but were now right in front of him.
It would be a bombastic lie if he told her that he did not want her. She was all he wanted. She was the last glimmer of goodness left in this world, and he wanted to bask in it before everything around them inevitably came crumbling down.
Draco looked back up to Hermione, who was now chancing hopeful looks in his direction, trying to detect from his expression telltale signs of what he was thinking.
"And I should say…" she spoke slowly, fear betraying her voice that gave the impression that she thought Draco did not want her, "no matter what, I will be here to help you. Regardless of what you decide."
It broke him to see her think that there was even a possibility that she wasn't everything for him.
"I don't know what I would do if something happened to you," he finally said, his hand squeezing hers.
She took a breath and gave him a hard look. "Lets face facts. Nothing will be safe soon. There will be no guarantees with anything."
Draco's hand pulled Hermione's arm gently into his body, bringing her face closer to him. Reaching his free hand to her face, he pulled her in and kissed her.
The logical side of him had been promptly overruled. There would be nothing other than her.
After a moment, she leaned back, keeping her face close to his.
"Does that mean you'll stop pushing me away?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes" he answered, bringing her face into his once again.
Reluctantly, and a bit weakly, he dropped back down to the bed from his propped up position using his elbow
"I'm a bit concerned that when you know everything though, you'll not feel the same way," Draco mentioned reluctantly.
Hermione kept her body close to his. "I will. I'll still feel the same way."
He looked at her carefully, seeing all the stubbornness she had just promised him staring back into his eyes.
He took a deep breath. "The Dark Lord gave me a task," Draco began, Hermione attentive as ever as he spoke. He shifted uncomfortably. "He, wants me to kill Dumbledore."
Her free hand rose to her mouth, and her eyes were wide with terror.
He went on. "They threatened to torture or kill my mother if I didn't make any attempts to kill him. That was…"
"The Katie Bell incident," Hermione said in a hushed surprise. He nodded.
"I had to do something within a week otherwise he would have gone after her." Draco looked nervously to Hermione. Her expression was shocked, but she steadied her look to be supportive. "After that I made sure that nothing was done recklessly again"
"Have you tried since?"
He shook his head. "No. I intercepted another attempt made by Bellatrix. She tried to poison mead meant for Dumbledore before it reached Hogwarts. Apparently the teachers almost drank it before it got to its intended victim."
Hermione looked nauseated.
"That was the evening the rumor broke about us. I found out from Theo that the Death Eaters knew and confirmed with Snape that Bellatrix threatened to use you and your family to motivate me…"
"Draco," her voice was so tender, so absolutely perfect and he couldn't believe he had gone so long without it. "I'm so sorry"
His eyes screwed up. "Why are you sorry? You were being threatened because of me."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone"
Overwhelmed. That was the best he could do to describe the transformation that was going on within him. He couldn't let another second go by without being closer to this witch.
His witch.
He moved to the side of the hospital bed, making space for another body. "Granger, come up here," he said lowly, his arm pulling her to him.
Nimbly, she found her way onto the narrow frame, tucking herself into a spot just under his arm, her head resting on his bicep.
They laid there comfortably with their arms around one another for several long breaths. Draco's free hand moved to her shoulder where he let his fingers course through her hair.
"What do you think you'll do now?" she whispered into his neck.
He shook his head, placing his lips on her temple. "I have a few ideas, but I'm not sure."
He felt Hermione still before she asked her next question. "Are you going to try and kill Dumbledore?"
"I don't know," he responded sadly, but truthfully. "I've worked out the different scenarios. Ideally, I could defect and get my mother away safely. If you were in the picture and they knew about it, I would not do anything unless I knew you and your parents were safe."
"I will be able to protect myself," Hermione clarified, "...and"
Draco turned his head to face her as she took a steadying gulp of air.
"When I go home after the school year ends, I'm modifying my parents memories to have them forget about me. I hope I can reverse it if everything works out, but they need to leave the country and forget about me for their safety. If they stayed here, and remembered me, they would try to find me. Even if I told them not to. So they will be safe once I obliviate them."
Draco had his suspicions that this was what she had been planning. He held her tighter, and she squeezed back.
Hermione wriggled her body so she could look into his face again. For the first time in months, he felt himself smile.
"I'm very good at problem solving in situations like this," Hermione said earnestly up to him. His smile broadened and she lit up.
"Situations like this?" Draco asked sardonically, taking aim at the absurdity of the current situation.
She gave him an appraising look. "You don't even know the half of what I've been involved with."
"Is that so?" he teased, laughing lowly at the lunacy of the problem at hand and the casual way they spoke about it. She nodded assuredly.
"I think we can figure out a solution where you don't have to kill Dumbledore," she told him as simply as if they were talking about an arithimacy problem. He let his expression settle to something more serious.
"You don't need to be apart of this, really," he said, rubbing a small circle in her back.
Her expression screwed up like she had never heard such a thing. "I'm with you Draco. I'm on your side." she told him, inching up and brushing a kiss over his lips. "Whether you like it or not, really."
He felt himself laughing which almost made him feel like crying tears of joy. He leaned into her more fully, deepening their kiss, his senses overrun by lilacs and books for the first time in months.
It wasn't clear what the future held for him, but he felt like his body loosened knowing that he didn't have to keep fighting against Granger. And more than that, she was with him.
She choose him. And he was finally letting himself choose her.