Several days later, Hermione walked briskly towards the far side of the lake, a small blanket in her arms, her wand in her back pocket. She wanted to think. She wanted to be by herself. And, she wanted to get out of her own rooms. Sometimes the four walls seemed to be moving closer and closer to the center of the room, making it smaller and smaller. A breath of fresh air seemed a good idea, so she threw on some jeans and a jumper and headed outside.
The autumn day was unusually warm, the first Hogsmeade weekend. Ron and Harry had taken off bright and early to go into town. Seventh years were given free reign since most of them were of age. Harry and Ron had several errands to do for the Order and hadn't wanted to disappoint Dumbledore or Lupin. Hermione had decided to stay behind.
Hermione threw the blanket on the ground underneath a large willow tree. Sunlight filtered through the boughs of the tree, and the light breeze was pleasant. She was almost entirely hidden from anybody's view. She removed her wand from her pocket and set it down. Sitting on the blanket, Hermione leaned against the trunk of the tree. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of autumn leaves was all around her, and she felt more and more relaxed as the minutes passed.
Her eyelids became heavy. Her senses began to dull. Her muscles became relaxed as the stress of the past few weeks faded away. A small smile appeared on her face as she remembered the past week's worth of classes. Really, being a teacher was fun. She enjoyed it. She wasn't sure how long she would do it, but she thought it might be worth pursuing for a while. At least for as long as Dumbledore wanted her around.
Hermione became so relaxed that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching the tree. She didn't realize that there was someone else over her until he was right there. Her eyes flew open and a tall shadow was silhouetted in the sunlight dripping through the leaves. She let out a small gasp before he overtook her.
Draco had watched Hermione leave the castle from the Astronomy Tower. He had climbed the steep stairs because he knew that he would be alone. He needed a moment by himself, away from the enclosed dungeons. From the top of the tower, he had a view in every direction for miles around. He watched as the long line of students, in twos and threes, made their way to Hogsmeade.
Then, about ten minutes after, he watched as a single feminine form had emerged from the Great Hall, heading towards the lake. He recognized Hermione's easy gait and watched as she flung her honey brown hair over her shoulder.
He was obsessed, he had started to realize. She haunted his thoughts, his dreams. He went to sleep thinking about her, and he woke up thinking of her. He was distracted in Transfiguration just wondering what Hermione was doing at that moment in time, and he counted the minutes until he would see her again. He couldn't understand this fascination with her. She was just a girl, just a normal witch. He hadn't even liked her before this year. He still didn't know if he liked her.
He sighed. He was going to have to seek her out now. He hadn't been alone with her in several days. He wanted to be. He needed to be. Sighing, he scrambled to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and wandered back down the stairs. He took his time ambling across the lawn, towards the lake. The giant squid rose slightly above the water before realizing that Draco wasn't going to feed him. The giant squid seemed to give him an angry look before descending back into the depths of the water.
Draco headed for the weeping willow that he saw her settle down under. He could see the tip of her blanket laid out on the fading grass. As he approached, he heard a soft gasp. He hurried over to the tree and ducked under the branches. But, Hermione wasn't alone.
A rage rose up in Draco. A rage that he hadn't experienced since this summer when his parents died. He whipped his wand out of his pocket, and pointed it at the boy he had known since he was ten. He had shared a dormitory with him, and he knew all of his secrets.
Draco stared at the crumpled heap under the tree. Hermione looked lifeless, her breath barely escaping from her lungs.
"If you hurt her, I'll kill you." Malfoy's voice was so low that he wasn't sure his enemy had heard him at first.
The boy laughed cynically. "Malfoy, I didn't really think you had turned. Pansy said that you did. But, I didn't believe her. Now I do." He kicked the figure on the ground. "And a Gryffindor, none-the-less. Really, this is almost too pathetic to even argue with you about."
"Don't touch her. I swear, I'll kill you." Draco stepped closer, pointing his wand at his opponent's chest.
The boy laughed again. A cold, harsh laugh. "A little bit of torture, I think." He pointed his wand at Hermione. "Crucio!" Hermione rose half-heartedly from her inert state and moaned loudly.
Draco, furious and beyond control, pulled out his wand. "Impedimenta!"
The boy's words froze and his movement became ridiculously slow. Draco kicked the wand out of the boy's hand, and threw down his own. He slammed a fist into the boy's face and another into his stomach. The boy moaned loudly. With the jinx still on him, he couldn't move fast enough to block any of the hits Draco was aiming at him.
Draco's hands were around the boy's throat. Draco lowered his own face to the boy's. "Don't touch Hermione again, Moorehouse. Don't ever go near her. If I find out that you have even entered her classroom, I will seek you out and I will kill you. You know I've done it before. I'll do it again."
Karl Moorehouse's face was purple by the time Draco released him. He scooted away from Draco, his eyes wide with terror and knowledge. Draco knew Karl was remembering that he had killed before. Draco had killed many times. First, it was animals. A rat, a bird, occasionally a dog. But last summer, he had killed a person, a human being. And, he hadn't liked himself too much afterwards, even if he had been avenging his parents' deaths.
The jinx lifted from Karl, and he quickly stood. With one last glance at his classmate, he slithered into the trees nearby.
After making sure that Karl really had left, Draco reached for Hermione. She was cold to the touch. Her breathing was shallow, and her skin was white. Draco rubbed his hands along her arms. She didn't move.
He pulled her closer to him, and rubbed his hands along her back.
"Come on," he said quietly. "Don't die on me. You can't."
Hermione's eyelids fluttered. It took her a lot of effort to open them. "So cold," she whispered.
Draco went wild. He couldn't watch Hermione die like his parents did. He couldn't do it again. He swung her up in his arms, and carried her into the entrance hall. Luckily, because it was a Hogsmeade weekend, the hall was deserted. He almost took her to his own dorm, but he hesitated. He couldn't chance that Karl was there. He headed for the Milkmaid.
He stood in front of the milkmaid, and gave the password.
The milkmaid wouldn't budge. Hermione had uncharacteristically gone against her ritual. She had changed her password before the week was out.
"Please, let me in. Your mistress needs my help. She needs your help. I have to get in to her apartment." His words fell on deaf ears. The milkmaid looked stricken, but she knew the rules. She couldn't allow him to enter.
He carefully set Hermione down on the ground. Gently, he shook her. "Hermione," he whispered. "What is your password? I need to know. What is your password into your apartments?"
The milkmaid cleared her throat. "Perhaps, I could help you guess it."
Draco looked up at her, surprised. She was going to help him? Get into a teacher's apartments? The world really had turned upside-down.
"Perhaps," continued the milkmaid, "you already know the password."
Was it a repeated password? Draco wondered.
As if reading his mind, the milkmaid shook her head. "No, Hermione has never used this password before. In fact, I was a little surprised that she did use this password. Gryffindors usually don't consort with Slytherins."
"Slytherins?" Draco was utterly confused at this point. The milkmaid was correct. Slytherins never had gotten on well with Gryffindors. Well, there were exceptions. Like, right now.
"Wait a second. Draco. The password is Draco." A bit of hope entered his tone.
The milkmaid shook her head. "It's not as obvious. You go by other names."
Draco was taken aback. Very few people knew about his other name. "The Dragon Prince?"
The milkmaid gave him a secret smile and swung open. Draco hurriedly picked up Hermione and carried her across the threshold of her apartments. He walked into her bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He stripped her jumper off of her, and loosened the t-shirt that she wore underneath. Her coloring was better and she was breathing more deeply, but she wouldn't wake.
Draco went to the kitchen and began perusing her stock of potions. He couldn't imagine that Hermione wouldn't keep every potion ingredient known to wizard-kind in her cupboards. He found what he was looking for on the fourth try. Stirring several ingredients together, he swirled the potion in a small cauldron that he found on the counter. He hurried into the bedroom.
Draco lifted Hermione's head slightly and tilted the potion against her lips. A small amount of liquid seeped into her mouth and down her throat. Hermione woke with a small start. Her eyes lifted to Draco's and she pulled away from him.
"No!" she cried, trying to push away his administrations.
"You need to take this potion," said Draco quietly. "It will help, I promise."
"Moorehouse," she whispered faintly.
"He's gone." Draco shook his head. "It's just you and I. We're alone." Her eyes fluttered shut and her body relaxed into his. She swallowed a bit more of the potion, and then Draco took it away. He set it on the nightstand beside her bed. He tried to rise from his awkward position on the bed, but she reached out to him. She clung to him, desperately.
"Please, don't go," she said, not even opening her eyes. Draco was surprised at her request. As much as he wanted her, he had never imagined that Hermione wanted him. He moved her over on the bed and lay down beside her. She rolled into him, her soft body resting against him. He sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. He had fallen completely for Granger. As he drifted off to sleep himself, he wondered how she had known of his nickname, The Dragon Prince.
