Draco Malfoy nervously looked from the wall clock, back to his to his desk, trying to ignore his growing anxiety. He straightened his quill and ink stand, which did not need straightening, and needlessly moved the stack of parchment from one corner of his desk, to the opposite corner.
Draco had been fidgeting with the various items on his desk for the past hour or so. Ever since he had noticed that even though it was 9:30 a.m. on Monday morning, and his officemate had still not shown up, he had compulsively shuffled his belongings about his work space. At this rate, the odds of him getting any actual work done today were pretty slim. Draco glanced at the desk to his right and then back at the clock. Granger should definitely be in the office by now.
Draco brought his now room temperature tea up to his mouth, mechanically swallowing it. It was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning, for Merlin's sake! What could be keeping her? Granger was never late. She was usually the first person in the office – the first person in the entire department, actually – and from what Draco could gather, and she was almost always the last person to leave. The previous Friday had already been somewhat of a red-letter day, in that regard, because Granger left fifteen whole minutes before five o'clock, saying she felt unwell and she needed to go home to rest. Granger had blushed when he asked if she needed his assistance to make it home. She had waved her hand, still flushed and in a higher than normal voice, had insisted that she would be fine on her own.
Draco felt himself blush slightly at the memory; he'd regretted making the offer almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. He thought had been too forward for Granger's liking and he was concerned that he had made things awkward between them, again. Since they had started working at the Ministry at the same time, almost two years prior, he and Granger were very cordial officemates, who kept their relationship strictly professional. Draco was worried he had crossed an invisible line and, accordingly, he had spent the weekend fretting about whether the atmosphere in their shared office would become stilted or too constrained, when they both returned after the weekend. He was concerned that the easy, amiable relationship he enjoyed with Granger would be gone. Of course, he hadn't anticipated that she would literally be gone. When she hadn't returned, his notional worry about unintentionally committing a faux pas, had quickly turned into genuine concern for Granger's well-being.
Draco had begun working with Hermione Granger in the office of Wizagenmot Administration Services at the Ministry of Magic, shortly after they both graduated from Hogwarts. They were among a select few students from their original year who had returned to school for what was officially referred to as their 8th year. Granger went back to school because she was Hermione Granger – absent a war, she certainly wasn't going to go through life as a Hogwarts drop out. Obviously. Draco, on the other hand, went back to Hogwarts because it was a condition of his release from Azkaban. It had ultimately been good for him, but at the time – had he been actually free to make his own decisions – well, let's just say he doubted he could have mustered up sufficient courage to face returning to Hogwarts, if it had been solely left to his own initiative to decide his fate.
One night towards the end of their last school year – after he had profusely apologized and she had accepted, after they had begun sitting near each other in the library, and after they had built a tentative almost-friendship – Granger had a few glasses of firewhisky and she had told him it had bothered her immensely, every time someone referred to her as an '8th year' student.
"Technically," she had said, her cheeks flushed red and her voice pitched louder than normal. "Technically, I dropped out last year. I didn't attend at all. Unless you count the Battle, and let me tell you, I bloody well do not for academic purposes, I wasn't even in the castle last year! This is my seventh year at Hogwarts." She waved her near-empty glass in her hand for emphasis, swaying slightly.
"Why not take it up with McGonagall? Demand to be considered one of the seventh years?" he recalled looking down at her with fond amusement, feeling free to do so only because he didn't think she was in any position to either notice his expression or, more importantly for his purposes, to remember it later. Becoming friendly with Granger – he wouldn't presume to call them friends – had been the highlight of a very fraught year. Not nearly as fraught as the several that had preceded it – obviously – but it had been very hard for him to go back to Hogwarts. And he had never expected Hermione Granger to be one of the few bright spots in the castle. She, of all people, should have known to stay far away from him.
Granger only shook her head at him, in an exaggerated fashion, and sighed. "Well, if you must know, I considered it. But '8th years' are given more privileges and I am already the oldest student in the bloody school! I wasn't voluntarily signing up to have a curfew." Draco laughed at that. Granger was Head Girl that year, naturally, and wouldn't have to obey a curfew she was expected to enforce, after all. But she wouldn't want to give herself special treatment, he had suspected. Of course not. Not the Golden Girl of Gryffindor – everything needed to be by the book.
Draco shook himself out of his reverie, taking note of his still otherwise unoccupied office. Where was she? Should he owl her? Or perhaps owl someone else who could check on her? Who could he send an owl to that would know Granger well enough to be useful, but who wouldn't immediately incendio the letter once they saw that it was from him? Perhaps the She-Weasel? She wasn't exactly friendly with him during their last year at Hogwarts, which he understood, but she had been less hostile than most. Especially after Granger had taken to sitting with him at the same table in the library.
Draco was saved the trouble of deciding whether Ginny Weasley would accept an owl from him, by the unceremonious arrival of the red-headed witch's fiancé and her brother. Harry Potter knocked on the wall of the cubicle, at the same time the Weasel let out an "Oi! Ferret! You need to come with us."
Potter and Weasley had both been working at the Aurors' office since their efforts – combined along with Granger's no doubt superior efforts – had caused the defeat of Voldemort. Potter, no surprise to anyone, was very good at his job. The Weasel, no surprise to Draco, was largely unimpressive and still riding on the coat-tails of his more famous best friend. Wanker.
Draco had found himself surprised to be in a fairly cordial professional – well, saying he had a relationship with Potter would be going too far. Potter was polite, if distant, when they needed to speak to each other for work-related reasons. And the two of them would nod at other in passing, which happened several times a week, as they encountered each other throughout the Ministry. That nod was subtle, and Draco was loathe to admit out loud how much it meant to him, every time it occurred. With everything that had happened, Draco had never really gotten over wanting to be friends with Harry Potter – even as his own jealousy and his father's bigotry had turned them first into rivals, and then later enemies. So a small part of Draco Malfoy was still surprised every time Potter acknowledged him, without also jinxing him. Merlin's Pants, even that small, largely indifferent nod was more than most of other employees of the Ministry gave him. Most sneered, or worse, acted like he was a ghost they couldn't see.
Draco looked up from his desk in surprise, considered insulting the red menace, but decided his worry about her trumped his intense dislike of the freckled wizard. "Where is Granger? She hasn't been here all morning and she left 15 minutes early on Friday."
Potter's expression was worried and he spoked in a clipped manner. "That's why we're here. She's in St. Mungos. We're bringing you to her."
Draco was already in motion, wordlessly summoning his robes and putting them on, confused as to why they were involving him, but unwilling to argue with either of the two men at his door. Not if it meant he could find out what was going on with Granger. "What? How is she?"
The three wizards were now moving rapidly down the hallway, heading out of the department offices, moving towards the main lobby.
"Hermione's been cursed. Something got through her mail and, well, she's unconscious. She's been unconscious since Friday evening."
Draco felt like he was going to be sick. He winced. "What kind of curse? What do the healers say? Why are you bringing me?"
Weasley snorted derisively. "Ron!" Potter snapped at him. "Enough."
"I know! Alright! I know. I'm still coming to grips with it. Let a man breathe!" Ron responded, mumbling the last bit under his breath. Clearly, whatever was going on, the two other men had been arguing about something related to this, before they had come to collect Draco.
Turning back to Draco, Potter stopped. They were in the lobby now, outside of all of the floo network connected fireplaces. "Malfoy. She's been cursed into sleep. The Ministry experts found the source of the curse – took them all weekend to sort it. Apparently, it had some mix of mostly light magic – but with warped intentions to it, which was why it did not get picked up by the wizards who scan her mail for dangerous items. It was a sleeping spell, combined with some elements found in amortentia – I didn't follow all of the spell work behind it, to be honest. It's kind of over my head. But they determined that she can only be awakened by, ah, her true love's kiss."
Draco, feeling extremely worried and also irritated, nodded and looked pointedly over at the Weasel. "Great news! Glad it can be done so easily. Perhaps her boyfriend could have taken care of this without involving me? Why did you come get me anyway?" He was confused by this. Why were the two of them here, talking to him of all people? Shouldn't they be off rescuing the fair maiden like the bloody Gryffindor idiots they both were? Why on earth were they wasting time on him, instead of helping Granger that very minute?
Ron flushed scarlet and Harry looked at the floor for a minute, uncomfortable. When he spoke again, Harry spoke quietly. "Hermione doesn't have a boyfriend, Malfoy. And, Ron is not her true love. Apparently." Potter said the last bit mostly under his breath, shooting a look at Ron.
The Weasel scowled at his partner and looked venomously toward Draco. The three of them climbed into the floo. Harry reached for the floo powder.
Ron spoke through clenched teeth. "I already tried. It's didn't work. So now we're trying you." Draco looked at Ron as though he had been stupefied. Harry flung the powder down, barking out "St. Mungos" and Draco's felt as though his whole world flipped upside down, as they travelled through the floo network to the hospital.
Only a moment later, the three emerged in the lobby of St. Mungos. Coughing from the smoke he had inadvertently breathed in from his shock-driven inhalation, Draco looked at Weasley. "What do you mean, me? Have you gone mad?"
"Whole world has gone mad, if you ask me…" Ron muttered.
Potter looked exasperated at his friend. "Ron! Enough! I get that you are disappointed, but it wasn't going to happen for you with Hermione. Ever. Honestly, if we can get her sorted out, I'm going to be somewhat grateful to whomever sent this to her, if it helps you to finally see that she was serious about you two only being friends!"
Draco looked from one of them to the other, processing. The only two wizards Granger ever mentioned to him – ever – were the Weasel and Potter. And Potter was happily engaged to Ginny Weasley and Ginny was Hermione's best friend, too. The four of them just sounded like the coziest little group of annoying do-gooders you could possibly imagine, if Hermione's tales from her weekends were at all accurate. Draco has assumed that the foursome were two couples, spending time together doing couple-y things. But apparently, he had been mistaken.
Every time Granger had mentioned Ron, Draco had ignored a small stab of jealousy. He would like to be able to spend time with Granger, socially. But, no surprise here, there weren't many people clamouring to spend time with a former Death Eater these days. People either regarded him as a blood traitor who should be shunned, or a Death Eater who should be in Azkaban or dead. No one treated him neutrally – no one except for Granger. Working with her, he could almost forget about their shared past and no one else – no one – made him feel like that. It was only natural that he wanted more from her, not that he'd ever felt like he was in a position to ask.
Harry turned his regard to Malfoy. "You are not who I would have chosen for Hermione, obviously. You are not good enough for her, but then again, nobody is." He glared at Ron.
"Look, for the most part, all Hermione does it work. She doesn't socialize after work – except on extremely rare occasions – and we usually only see her on weekends at brunch on Saturday and family dinner at the Burrow on Sunday. As far as we've been able to ascertain, you are the person she spends most of her time with."
"So that's why I'm here? Proximity?" Draco heard his voice rise, as he felt a bit hysterical.
"Can't think of any other reason it's be you, mate." Ron said darkly.
Draco glared at him. Harry coughed, looking uncomfortable. Draco and Ron both turned to Harry, who seemed to be coming to a decision. "Alright, I'm going to tell you both something that Hermione asked me to keep secret. Hopefully she won't be too mad at me for this, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It's not just because you two spend a lot of time together at work. I have other reasons for suspecting it to be Malfoy, if it's anyone."
Draco felt like maybe he should sit down. What the fuck was happening? Ron looked like he was going to explode and it was obvious he felt betrayed by his friend revealing that he'd been kept in the dark about something. Draco spoke first. "I'm all ears, Potter. Tell me your secret if you feel you must. And then tell me what I can do to help Granger. I'll do whatever she needs." He looked at his shoes at the last part, embarrassed by his own sincerity – especially in front of these two.
"When you two were coming out of Hogwarts, did you think she'd end up in Wizagenmot support?" Harry asked, surprising him with an unexpected change in subject.
"No. I thought she'd end up working with Magical Creatures, or in the Aurors' office with you two." Draco said automatically. Draco was forced to work at the Ministry for a period of five years, as part of the conditions for probations. The rules for his probation were not that arduous, in fact. Especially considered he had legitimately feared that his fate would be the same as his father's. First, Draco had to attend Hogwarts and get a minimum of 5 N.E.W.T.s with a minimum grade of 'Acceptable' in each. That had been a non-issue for him. The only people at the school who scored higher on their N.E.W.T.s were Granger herself, and some Ravenclaw who wouldn't speak to him. Secondly, he could only use his wand for school work while at Hogwarts, which again, not that onerous – not compared to the possibility of Azkaban or worse. And finally, he was to procure employment at the Ministry, in any department and be an employee in good standing for five years after his graduation. Then, and only then, would Draco be free to make whatever decisions about his own life, however he wished.
Ron frowned and spoke next. "I certainly never expected her to end up working for the Wizagenmot. 'Mione was pretty adamant to Scrimgeour that she didn't want to go into law. Remember when she told him wouldn't do it because she actually wanted to help people."
Draco couldn't help a little smile. Yes, that sounded like Granger. He had been shocked – and delighted – when he had shown up his first day and found out he was sharing an office and primarily working with Granger. From the look on Potter's face, he ought to have been more suspicious about his good fortune.
"Well, the thing is Malfoy, before you came here, there was quite the stir at the Ministry about where you were going to serve your probation. You needed to have someone to share an office with you and work with you, but there were no takers."
"No." said Draco, a sick feeling in his stomach. "She didn't!" He felt like he knew where this was going.
Potter nodded, grimly. "I mentioned it to her while you were still at Hogwarts. Well, actually, if you want to come right down to it, she interrogated me about what was going to happen to you with the Ministry. She was concerned you weren't going to get a fair shake. When I told her that the rumour mill said that no one was going to offer you a position, she went ballistic. She met with Shaklebolt and told him she would work with you – and only you – in whatever department would have you both. The Aurors's office wouldn't clear you for field work with them, so Hermione turned them down for herself. She also turned down Department of Magical Creatures. Short of the Maintenance Department, the only office in here that would take both of you was the Wizagenmot support. So that's where she went. For you."
Draco felt a stab of anger, and deep regret. "I didn't know. I swear on my life I had no idea! Granger never should have done that." Blasted witch! She had volunteered to babysit him and then dared the Ministry to not hire her – like they could refuse an opportunity to have Hermione Granger on staff – all to keep him out of Azkaban! She had sacrificed her own ambitions – for him – and he didn't even know about it. And he teased her about how she organized her files, at least once a week for the past two bloody years! Oh, how he wished he'd learned how to keep his own foolish mouth shut! But teasing her had been too much fun for him to resist.
"No kidding." Ron said under his breath, before being silenced by another look from Harry. Ron looked chagrinned this time. "I'm sorry, I'm trying to stop."
"In any event, she did. And now she's unconscious and she will remain that way until she gets a kiss from her 'true love'." Potter finished.
"I don't see how it could possibly be me. Even with her foolishly deciding her career around helping me, I don't see how she could love me. I'm constantly amazed that she tolerates me at all." Draco felt defeated. Even with this new information, they had to be wrong. She probably had just looked on him like he was another magical creature in distress that she needed to save. That felt more likely. He was probably just a well-dressed house-elf in her eyes, still pathetic and needing her to rescue him from the unfairness of the world. She was prone to dramatic self-sacrifice, as bloody foolish Gryffindor after all. It would be like Granger to do something like that, because she believed it was the right thing to do. Not because he deserved her help – he didn't. And he certainly didn't deserve her.
"She does more than tolerate you, mate." Ron said reluctantly, acting as though it pained him to make the admission. "It's always 'Malfoy said this' and 'Malfoy said that' and 'me and Malfoy were discussing', blah, blah, blah. She talks about you constantly. It's annoying."
This gave Draco pause. That sounded unexpectedly familiar. Just two weeks ago, at his weekly tea with his mother, Narcissa Malfoy had discreetly mentioned to her son that he seemed to bring up Miss Granger a great deal. When he had rushed to assure his mother that was merely because they worked together in a small office, and it was just that he greatly admired her mind and her work ethic, Narcissa Malfoy had just smiled behind her tea cup as she sipped. "Of course, my dear. If you would ever like to bring her with you to tea, I would be delighted to receive you both. Anytime."
Draco had nearly spit out his own tea at that, managing to avoid that fate only through years of having had the expected presentation of the Malfoy heir drilled into him, over and over. The most shocking part had been that his mother had meant that! She genuinely would be happy to see Draco spend time with Hermione Granger. It was the functional equivalent of receiving her blessing to pursue the witch – which had caught Draco feeling very flat-footed. Where had that come from? She was only his colleague, after all. Nothing more.
Or so he told himself. Repeatedly. And often.
Admittedly, the attitude change in his mother following the war had been dramatic. Narcissa Malfoy was involved in a great number of philanthropic efforts to assist in rebuilding wizarding Britain. Her last minute lie to Voldemort had sealed the fate of their entire world – and thanks to Potter's testimony about it – their whole world knew that. His mother was lauded, even as her husband was given the Dementor's kiss and her son was shunned by all good society.
Draco knew that his mother's charitable works were part of her effort to rehabilitate the family name – all for his eventual benefit – but he also knew her new beliefs regarding blood purity were sincere. She had suffered greatly, living with that monster and watching her only son used and tortured by dark forces in the name a misguided ideology. Narcissa Malfoy was going to personally see that her son was never dragged into that kind of mess again, and if that meant she had to remake the attitudes of the world she had been born into herself, she would see it done. Fortunately, she had found common cause with some other members of the Sacred 28 who had looked at their customs anew in the wake of the second disastrous war in less than 20 years, and together they were working on changing attitudes behind closed doors – as well as assisting those most affected by the war. It had truly warmed his heart, to see his mother so energized by her new calling.
Draco was still coming to terms with everything Harry had just disclosed to him. Potter, seeming to recognize that Draco needed a minute, had left to go tell the witch at the front desk that they were here to see Granger. Draco looked at Potter once he returned, swallowing and trying to summon what little courage he possessed. "Is there anything else I need to know about this curse? Do I just – I don't know – kiss her forehead and hope for the best?"
Harry shook his head. "No. You have to kiss her on the lips. And, uh, you have to love her too."
Ron looked at Draco in a more shrewd manner than he had thought the man capable. "Yeah. That's an excellent question, mate. Do you? Love her?"
This was preposterous! Draco was not going to be interrogated about his emotional attachment to Granger by Ron bloody Weasley in the lobby at St. Mungos, where anyone could overhear. "I'm not discussing my feelings with you!" Draco bit out.
"Actually, you are." Potter said, Auror voice coming seemingly out of nowhere. "This isn't about you, not right now, Malfoy. This is about Hermione, and I think we can minimally acknowledge that she is very important to all three of us, yeah." Draco and Ron both gave him tight nods. "Good. Malfoy, you don't need to confess to me the deepest secrets of your heart, but I do need to know if you think that your kiss might be enough to do the trick, at least from your end. We cannot ask Hermione her thoughts on the matter, so we're forced to do a bit of guess work."
Draco looked away from the both of them, towards the entrance into the hospital, somewhere beyond which Granger lay asleep and unable to wake up. Seeing Granger almost daily had been the best part of his life for so long, but it had crept up on him gradually. The first time she had sat at the table next to them at Hogwarts, he had nearly had a heart attack. When she accepted his apology, he could have prostrated himself before her in relief, he was so grateful for his undeserved absolution. And her professional, kind and open manner in their shared office – well, it made him feel like a regular wizard, who didn't have a dark past, who hadn't done or seen unspeakably evil things. With her, he felt like he was just a bloke, discussing the weather with an attractive and engaging colleague. 'Ministry drone' had not been a life he'd ever expected to fall into – not being raised as he had been – but Draco noticed that when he was in her company, in their small corner of the Ministry, he was happier than he'd ever been.
"Yes." Draco said shakily. "It's at least worth a shot. Merlin, if this doesn't work out and it's someone else, please don't let her murder me for kissing her without her permission…"
"No promises. Ow!" Ron rubbed his shoulder where Harry had just punched him, the dark haired wizard looking at him murderously.
"Ron, I think you should stay here." Harry gestured to the waiting room.
"No! I want to make sure she's okay!" Ron evidently realized he had pushed Harry too far, and he was trying to backtrack. "I'll behave. I promise!"
"Last bloody warning, Ron! I mean it!" Potter glared at the taller, red-headed man. "The next time, I'm just petrifying you!" Ron nodded, trying to look apologetic.
The Healer arrived and brought the three men into the hospital, to the corridor just outside of Hermione's hospital room. Through the open blinds of the observation window, Draco could see Hermione laying still on her hospital bed, unmoving, her beautiful wild curls spread out behind her on the pillow. Draco swallowed roughly. He was filled with terror and anticipation. He wanted to her to wake up, but he didn't want her saddled with him. He knew he didn't deserve her – and never mind that Granger had forgiven him, he had never forgiven himself for all he'd done to her. He didn't think he ever could.
Draco felt the panic rise up in him, at the sight of her paler than normal, unmoving form. "This is pointless! There's no way it's me. It can't be! She's amazing! She's the most amazing witch that has probably ever lived and I treated her like garbage for the vast majority of the time we've known each other! She can't love me! I'm amazed she ever tolerated me, but she can't be that good of a person. To fall for a wreck like me!" He rubbed his left forearm, feeling the faded, but not gone, Dark Mark.
Draco looked helplessly at his former rival. "I'll just make her life harder. It shouldn't be me. It can't be me!"
"I very much do not want to say this, but I think Harry is right. I think she does love you." Ron said slowly, acting as though every word pained him. "For the record, I agree with you as well, that she is way too good for you. Tosser. But, I mean, who is good enough for 'Mione? She's way too smart for me. And she's too selfless for her own good. But, as much as I personally hate it, she genuinely enjoys your company. Will not stop banging on about it, no matter how many time I've asked. Her face lights up when she talks about you. So go, kiss her, and then you can argue with her directly about how you absolutely do not deserve her." Ron finished, looking intently at Draco. "Please just get this over with – I'm now having to root for you to be Hermione's true love and I cannot bear to do this for long, so please, end our misery!"
Harry gave him an encouraging look, and Draco took a deep breath, before entering Hermione's hospital room. He shut the door behind him and performed a muffliato charm on the room. The blinds to the observation window were still open, so Harry and Ron could still see everything that was happening. Draco was apprehensive enough about kissing her without her express permission, so he decided it was better if they witnessed anything that happened in the room. But he wanted a bit of privacy, as he had a few things he felt he needed to say to her first, and they didn't need to hear everything.
"Well Granger, taking a sick day, I see." He said, smiling sadly at her unmoving form, but speaking in a gently teasing manner. "I'm not sure if anyone has bothered to inform you, but you've apparently been cursed to fall into an enchanted sleep. And the only thing that can wake you, is true love's kiss. Informed speculation around here, suggests that could be me. Although, they did try the Weasel first."
He sat down next to her bed, taking her hand in his. "Now, it being me, that seems like the most absurd thing I have ever heard. Me, Draco Malfoy, being your true love! Preposterous. There is no way that you could ever love me. You, on the other hand, are very easy to love, I think. Not that I ever let myself even think of that possibility too loud. I'm not a bleeding heart like you and I'm nowhere near as brave. I tried to never let myself even think of you like that, when I could help it. Who signs up for that, knowing they'd have their heart broken? By dreaming an impossible dream."
He smoothed a curl away from her cheek, caressing her face as he leaned closer. "But if you want to be uncharacteristically foolish and love me, I am Slytherin enough to take advantage of the opportunity as presented. Hermione, I love you." And he leaned forward and pressed his lips really gently on hers – careful not to put too much pressure.
Nothing happened.
From outside of her room, Ron's face lit up with glee. "Ha! I knew it couldn't be – " Ron was in the midst of triumphantly crowing, when golden sparks emerged from Hermione as she opened her eyes and gasped. "Bugger!" he swore. Harry snorted at him, but also patted him on the back, consolingly.
Hermione blinked, looking dazed around the room, as golden sparks surrounded her. "Malfoy? What? Where am I? What are these sparks?" she stopped and looked down at her hand, which was still in his much larger one. "What is going on?" she said, eyeing their clasped hands suspiciously.
Draco dropped her hand instantly, as if he had been caught doing something forbidden. "I can explain. Or better yet, let's get Potter to explain." He extinguished the muffilato with his wand and gestured for Harry and Ron to come him. Harry had a broad smile on his face as he rushed forward to Hermione, engulfing her in a hug. "Hermione! We were so worried about you!" Harry said, largely to Hermione's hair, as he squeezed her very tightly. Harry had been very frightened for his friend, that much was obvious.
"What happened? Why am I in St. Mungos? With you three?" Hermione asked, still appearing dazed.
"You were cursed by some pure-blood nutter." Ron said, pointedly not looking at Draco. "Not sure exactly how it got through the Ministry security detections, but someone who was still upset about the war sent you an item that cursed you to sleep until you were woken up by, um, true love's kiss." Ron finished the last bit hurriedly, his embarrassment obvious. Hermione's eyes got wide and she frantically looked from Draco to Ron, to Harry. Then her eye's narrowed, as she visibly struggled to regain her sense of equilibrium.
"Explain." She said testily.
Both Draco and Ron looked at Harry, with Ron saying to his friend. "Take it away, mate. I'm not touching this one."
Harry blushed. "It's Monday, just around lunch time now. You've been unconscious since Friday evening, as near as we can tell. Ginny found you Saturday morning when you didn't meet us for brunch."
Draco inhaled, sharply. She had been unconscious, and alone, for an entire night! He got up and paced around the room a bit, letting Harry continue. That was unacceptable! What if she had died before anyone found her?
"We traced your movements and found there was a cursed object in your mail. Aurors' office had to liase with the Department of Mysteries to figure out what we were dealing with. It was an unusually cast sleeping spell combined with some elements found in amortentia, that atomized into the air when you opened the letter. The Unspeakables were pretty convinced that you would wake up if you were kissed by your, um, true love. At his suggestion, we tried Ron, but that didn't work."
Hermione, who had shot a furtive glance at Draco at the mention of amortentia, snorted at the mention of Ron, before turning it into a cough, smoothing her features into a neutral expression. Ron looked disgusted and Draco didn't even bother trying to hid his smirk. Now that Granger was okay, this might be the greatest day of his life.
"In any event, we realized the only other person you spent a great deal of time with was Malfoy, so we thought he might fit the bill. And he did." Draco couldn't meet Hermione's eyes, but he felt the weight of her gaze land upon.
"I see." She said, in a tone that gave nothing away about her reaction to this news. "Harry, Ron, do you think you could go tell the Healers I am awake now? I suspect that they will want to examine me." Harry nodded and grabbed Ron, who looked like he was about to argue, but he quickly gave up and followed Harry, after seeing the look on both Harry and Hermione's faces. Draco looked at her, uncertain if he should leave as well. Hermione must have noticed his unspoken question, because she spoke again. "Malfoy, you stay." Her tone was firm and left no room for disagreement.
Soon, it was just the two of them in her room. He stood stiffly at the foot of her bed, not quite able to meet her eyes. Hermione cleared her throat. "Thank you. For rescuing me, I mean." She spoke in a small voice. "This is a bit awkward, yes?"
"A bit." Draco said, putting his hand on the back of his neck and rubbing it. Draco was at a loss on how to proceed. To say this was not how he had expected his day to proceed, was a gargantuan understatement.
But Hermione seemed to take his relative silence for something else. "Right. Okay. Just because I have feelings for you, doesn't mean you have to reciprocate or do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I know that I'm not the girl for you, so to speak. I am very grateful that you helped me and I will endeavour not to make things too awkward for you around the office." She finished weakly and a bit sadly, biting her lower lip.
Draco looked at her astonished. He loved it when she bit her lip, but it was distracting him from understanding what she was trying to convey. Did she think that he was rejecting her? "What do you mean, you're 'not the girl' for me?"
Hermione squirmed, and appeared reluctant. With a sigh, she said, "Oh, well you know. I'm not a pure-blood." She rolled her eyes. "Sorry. It's a conceptual nightmare and so inaccurate I cannot abide by the term, but you know what I mean. The Malfoy heir isn't going to end up with someone whose parents are dentists, after all. It's fine. I've made my peace with it a long time ago."
"What? You made your peace with what?" Draco was still confused.
Hermione cringed. "That friendly co-workers would be the best we could ever achieve." She started gripping the blanket covering her, balling it with her fists. "People like you don't fall for people like me, even without any awkward or unpleasant history. It's fine. I'm not going to be a problem for you. You don't have to worry."
Draco moved to her and grabbed her hands away from the blanket, holding them in his own instead.. "Granger – " he said softly. Her eyes filled with tears and now she was the one who couldn't meet his eyes. "Hermione," he said softly. Now she looked up, mild shock on her face, her eyes shiny with tears that had not yet begun to fall. "I am the one who doesn't deserve you. You deserve the best this world has to offer, and that is definitely not me. The 'hopefully-reformed-but-we-have-our-doubts Death Eater'. I'm a mess. No sane witch should want anything to do with me."
Hermione's eyes scanned his face rapidly and she bit her lower lip again, thinking. "Wait a minute, do you love me too?" she blurted out, looking him straight in the eye.
"Yes? I mean, that's why my, um, kiss worked to wake you up." He dropped her hands and gestured around them at the hospital room.
"No one told me it had to be mutual to work! I thought it was just because of how I felt about you! You love me?!" she squeaked in evident surprise.
"Well you love me, too!" Draco shot back.
"I know that, you git. But you loving me is brand new information!" Hermione exclaimed, sound exasperated.
"The fact that I am apparently your true love, was very much new information to me this morning, Granger!" Draco shouted back at her, unsure of why, exactly, they were bickering this intensely, but unable to help himself.
"Ahem..." the Healer, who had entered the room unnoticed by either of them, cleared her throat. "Miss Granger, good to see you with us. Perhaps your visitor could wait outside while I perform the diagnostics."
They both looked at the Healer, chagrinned. "Right. Of course." Draco made to leave the room, but he turned towards Hermione on his way out "This conversation is not finished."
"No, I should think not." She said in a calmer, more contemplative voice, her eyes assessing.
Draco awkwardly joined Harry and Ron, who were back to their earlier positions, monitoring Hermione through the observation window. They watched as the Healer performed diagnostic spells on Hermione. They were still for a moment, before Harry broke the silence.
"You should join us next week. For brunch on Saturday." Harry said casually.
Ron looked at Harry like he had grown an extra head for a moment, but then sighed and held up his hands. "He's right. You should come. I know it will mean a lot to Hermione if she can see us getting along with each other."
Harry grinned and nodded. "Everyone getting along with each other is all she's ever wanted, when you get right down to it."
Draco looked between the two of them, confused by the abrupt change in attitude, especially coming from Weasley. "What is happening?"
Ron looked at Harry, who nodded and then the red haired wizard continue, reluctance evident in his tone. "What is happening, is that you are – against all reason – Hermione's true love. And since we also love her and she loves us – as friends, apparently – we are going to be stuck with each other." Ron held out his hand for Draco to shake it, a peace offering.
Only for the sake of Hermione Granger would Draco ever consider the action he was about to undertake. Draco took Ron's proffered hand, and gave a perfunctory shake – ignoring the other man's efforts to squeeze his hand too hard in some performative alpha male nonsense. Uncultured lout. The two of them gave each other a tight nod and then each dropped the other's hand as if they had been scalded. Draco returned his attention to Hermione, long enough to see that she had caught the interaction – she was looking wide-eyed and flabbergasted at them both. She closed her mouth, after she realized that Draco was looking at her. He smirked through the window. And she smiled at him in return.
The Healer came out of her room. "She seems totally fine. No worse for wear. Glad you were able to locate the right wizard!" the Healer clapped Draco on the back and Ron scowled. Even with Ron's sincere efforts to support Hermione's choice, it was clear that this was going to be a sore spot for him for a while. "She asked for you, young man."
Draco went back into the room, feeling slightly better now that he was notionally accepted by her friends. He looked at her, still anxious and unsettled, but found that summoning up his courage was easier now than it had been when she was still unconscious and he was still in grave doubt that she would ever even consider returning his feelings.
"I'm told you are all better now, Granger. Free to leave as soon as you wish. If you hurry, you could still put in for nearly a half day of work." He smirked at her, and saw her answering smile.
"I think I will take the whole day off, just be sure. I need to check on Crookshanks, if nothing else. He must be beside himself with worry." Hermione was still looking intently at Draco. "I think we should go out for tea, together. Not today, necessarily, but soon. Just the two of us."
"Are you sure?" Draco asked, in a quiet and uncertain voice. He wasn't just asking if she was sure about getting tea. He was asking her if she was certain about him, generally. She understood that of course. Bloody witch normally didn't miss a trick.
Hermione looked around the room, meaningfully. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I've even had the certainty I feel magically tested. Not intentionally, mind you. But tested nonetheless. The results kind of speak for themselves."
Draco couldn't argue with her on that. Well, he probably could, but he decided he wouldn't. She had been through enough and he didn't think it was fair to tease her too much. Not today, anyway.
He sat down next to her bed and took her hands in his, smiling at his witch. "Might I assist you to your home, Miss Granger?"
She blushed, probably recalling how she had refused his identical offer on Friday. "I would like that, thank you."
"Harry invited me to brunch next week." Draco told her, moving a stray curl from her forehead.
"Did he now?" Hermione glanced at the window, smiling at where Harry and Ron were still waiting. The two friends appeared deep in conversation. "Harry did that, did he?" Draco chuckled. He hadn't even noticed that he'd called Potter by his first name until she'd pointed it out.
"And my mother asked me to bring you round for tea, a couple weeks ago." Hermione's eyes widened at that.
"Weeks ago?" she said hesitantly. He nodded. "And she doesn't, um, object to me becoming involved with you?"
Draco squeezed her hand. "Not at all. But if she did, it wouldn't matter. Not if you wanted me."
"I do. I do want you." Hermione breathed. "I just never thought I could have you."
Draco smirked, even as he felt warmth bloom across his chest. "I've felt the same way about you." Then, his stomach dropped and his face fell. "Hermione, are you sure? You will get so much grief for being with someone like me."
"Oh, who cares what anyone else thinks?" she exclaimed too loudly, and then winced. Harry and Ron stopped their conversation to look at her, and seeing she was okay, they shrugged and resumed their own discussion. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you. I don't care what anyone thinks about how I live my life – I never have, not really. And I'm not letting other people's opinions make decisions for me. Plus, you can't tell me that people won't hassle you for dating a Muggle-born."
"Some will. But no one who's opinions matter to me." Draco said, and he meant it. Anyone who was bothered by Granger being a part of his life was not worth his time.
"Exactly. Fuck everyone else."
Draco burst out laughing at her highly uncharacteristic vulgarity. "Alright then Granger. You've convinced me. Want to get out of here?"
"I'd like nothing more." And she looked up at him with the most heartbreakingly beautiful smile he had ever seen. Draco felt an entirely unfamiliar sense of contentment settle over him. He helped her out of the bed. Once they were both standing, he leaned forward and gently kissed her on the mouth. She signed and leaned into his kiss, throwing her arms around him.
"Excellent. Can we hold hands while we walk past Ron?" Draco asked her after they broke apart, too soon for his taste, but they were still in a hospital and they had an audience.
"No." Hermione said reproachfully.
"Can I eventually snog you in a library?" Draco asked, picking up a suspiciously heavy, small beaded bag and passing it to her.
Hermione smirked as she put the bag's strap over her shoulder. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
Draco considered that, pleased with her reaction. He decided to test his luck. "Do you still have any of your old school uniforms?" he asked, casually, as though he was indifferent to the answer. He was not.
"That depends, do you have any your old Quidditch jerseys? I think I'd like to wear your name across my back, if that's an option."
Draco tripped, although he was sure he had been standing still when she spoke. He looked back at her, his eyes wide and shocked. "I will find one. Or make one, Merlin. You are going to be the death of me, witch. I can already tell."
"Oh, Draco Lucius Malfoy." Hermione said, pulling him in closer. "I think you are very much mistaken. I am going to be the making of you." And then she kissed him and he forgot what he was supposed to be doing for a minute.
When he came back to himself, Draco figured she was probably right. She was the Brightest Witch of Her Age, after all. Who was he to argue?