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"Draco—!" Hermione gasped, semi-conscious in the dim blue light of pre-dawn inching its way into her four-poster bed.
Her whole body ached and her left forearm seared with pain as if she'd been burned. She looked down to see her arm was perfectly fine, however, her bare skin unmarred. She involuntarily rubbed at her collarbone; the necklace was cool on her fingertips.
Hermione reasoned she must've had a nightmare, but she couldn't remember what. She wondered why she'd said his name; she blamed it on the Ogden's.
She had barely slept at all, and, knowing further attempts at rest would be futile, she readied herself and made her way to the Common Room, which still empty save for the frolicking flame of a fire now roaring in the hearth.
Hermione idly rubbed at her arm again, which now tingled with the ghost of the pain she'd felt when she'd woken… or at least, the pain she thought she'd felt.
It was just a dream, she told herself.
She waited over an hour for Harry and Ron, her eyes lighting up expectantly at the rare early-riser who ambled sleepily down the stairs, but Harry and Ron never came.
Sighing, she decided she could wait no longer. Luckily, as it was early for a Sunday, the Common Room was still relatively deserted. She quickly checked to be sure she wouldn't be seen, then bounded up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
She crept stealthily into the room where the sixth-year Gryffindor boys were still sleeping, the familiar rumble of Ron's snore echoing through the room despite his tightly drawn curtains.
Hermione walked slowly and silently to Harry's bedside and parted the curtains. Inside, she saw her best friend was asleep on his back, his wand and glasses propped on the pillow beside him, his black hair about as messy as she'd ever seen it.
She smiled; it'd been a long time since she'd seen him this way, free from worry and pain, and wished life would afford him more moments of peace.
Hermione sat down on the bed beside him as slowly and quietly as she could manage; he did not stir.
Hermione contemplated the best way to wake him; it seemed Harry was always on high alert these days, and she had no desire to wake the other boys in the room, nor to alert them to her presence.
Luckily, the bed curtains and Ron's snores gave her some cover.
Deciding to waste no more time, she whispered, "Harry— Harry, wake up."
She saw him begin to rouse slightly, and, panicking, put her hand over his mouth.
"Harry— it's just me—" she whispered as his eyes darted open. He brought both of his own hands to hers in an attempt to push her away, but it took only a moment for him to recognize her, however, and he relaxed.
Hermione couldn't help but notice he kept her hand clasped between both of his as she slowly moved her hand away from his mouth.
"Hermione— what—?" He whispered, his eyes still wide and searching.
"Everything's okay— I just could't wait— where's your map?"
He released her hand and pushed himself into a seated position.
"Where're my glasses?" He whispered.
"Here," she said quietly as she slid them on his face.
Harry ran his hands through his hair, as if suddenly self-conscious about his appearance.
She laughed quietly, "You're fighting a losing battle. Believe me— I know when to quit." She gestured to a curly lock of her own hair.
"I like your hair," Harry said as he gently held a bit of it between his fingertips. She sucked in a breath as their eyes met.
"The map—" Harry said quietly, shaking his head, as if he'd just woken from a dream.
He crawled to the foot of the bed and poked his head and shoulders out of the curtain, Hermione assumed to reach into his trunk at the foot of his bed. He returned a moment later, the Marauder's Map in hand as expected.
"We need to start keeping a closer eye on Malfoy," Hermione explained as Harry unfolded the map onto the bed.
He looked confused for a moment.
"But I thought you didn't think Malfoy was behind the attack?"
"I said I wasn't sure. There's no proof, Harry, especially none solid enough for McGonagall's ears. We need proof. Hence, the map."
She saw his expression soften, and then he grinned, "You're right. Why didn't we think to use the map sooner?"
"Look— Malfoy's still in the Slytherin dorms. Nott too."
Hermione tried not to think about the night before, not while she was sitting so close to Harry… in his bed. She suddenly couldn't help but imagine Malfoy, asleep is his own bed, draped not in red and gold but silver and green, his features irritatingly poised yet striking, even in slumber.
She shook her head.
"As most people are at this hour on a Sunday, Hermione, y'know, asleep…" he smirked.
"I couldn't sleep."
"I couldn't tell," he whispered sarcastically. "What if I'd been naked in here or something?"
"You don't sleep in the nude," she said, matter-of-factly.
"What if I'd decided to try it out?"
"I'm sure I've seen worse," she joked, only now noting how endearing it was to see him in his t-shirt and cotton shorts; he seemed more vulnerable somehow, younger. "I mean, I've seen Ron vomit slugs."
"Thanks," Harry said dryly, but with an amused grin.
Or maybe it was just a reflection of how she felt there with Harry in his quiet four-poster, shut out from the rest of the world, from the Prince, from Felix Felicis, Malfoy, and the war; it was just the two of them, just she and Harry, not the Chosen One and his Muggle-born best friend.
But Hermione knew that wasn't realistic; it was silly, unfair— and dangerous— even to pretend to ignore these things.
She scoffed inwardly at her own hypocrisy— hadn't she been the one in Madam Malkin's telling Ron and Harry to ignore Malfoy? Now she was the one obsessing over him.
"Did you really go to the library last night, Hermione? Ron and I waited up for you."
"Yes, I got permission from Madam Pince to stay late. Doesn't hurt that I'm a prefect." She was surprised how easily the lie came to her, how steady the tone of her voice, but she couldn't deny the pang of guilt now nagging at her insides. She felt rather like she was the one about to vomit slugs.
Hermione just wasn't ready to tell Harry and Ron about Theo and Felix… and certainly not about the Veritaserum. Truthfully, she wasn't sure she'd ever tell them.
Harry nodded, but she could see the skepticism in his expression.
This is Harry you're talking to, not Ron, she reminded herself. He's going to figure it out eventually.
"I was worried," Harry said quietly, and Hermione noted he was unable to meet her eyes.
"Thanks," she assured, "but you don't have to worry, Harry, everything's okay." She placed her hand over his for good measure. The sensation was warm, and familiar, and strong… like him, like their friendship.
"Everything won't be okay if Ron finds us like this though," Harry said after a moment, worriedly glancing at his bed curtains, as if Ron could see through them.
"Meet me in the Common Room?" Hermione whispered as she moved to leave.
"Wait—" he whispered back, and half his body again disappeared through the curtains. He returned with the Invisibility Cloak.
"Take this," he offered.
"Thanks," she smiled in gratitude. It was a good idea; there were probably a lot more people awake now, and she grimaced at the thought of the trouble that would surely follow if anyone saw her leaving the boys' dormitories.
"And Hermione—" Harry said, "you can wake me up anytime, y'know, if—"
"I know," she said as she disappeared under the Cloak.
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A few hours later, most of Gryffindor had made their way to the Great Hall for Sunday breakfast, affording Harry and Hermione the privacy to unfold the map in a corner of the common room, free from prying eyes.
"What the—?" Harry said.
"What is it?" Hermione asked in concern. "Is it Malfoy?"
"No, the opposite. Malfoy and Nott— they're not on here."
"That can't be. The map shows everyone."
"I'm telling you, it's like they've disappeared. There's Goyle over there— and Zabini and Crabbe in the Great Hall… or does that say Cormac…?"
"Let me see," Hermione insisted, pulling the map toward her. It was difficult to make out names on the map at times, particularly in a crowded area like the Great Hall during Sunday breakfast.
Plus, she reasoned, Harry's eyesight is atrocious.
But it turned out Harry was right, Malfoy and Nott were nowhere to be found… or at least, nowhere they could see on the map at the moment. Hermione sat back in her chair, frustrated.
"Could they have left the castle?" Harry asked.
"I don't think so…"
It's possible though, she thought, but after yesterday… highly unlikely. She imagined Nott was in a world of pain this morning, after washing down Veritaserum with a bottle of Odgen's.
"I know they say evil never sleeps, but y'know, even that git Malfoy has to sleep sometime."
Harry and Hermione jumped in surprise, and more than a bit of guilt, as Ron appeared behind them, rumpled from sleep, and looking annoyed.
"You two are mental. I'm going to the Great Hall before Neville and Seamus eat all the sausage. You two can join me… but the second I hear the name Malfoy— well, I'm too hungry to decide what I'll do, but I promise, you won't like it."
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"I've been thinking—" Theo said as he and Draco made their way toward the Great Hall for a late breakfast.
"Let me owl the Minister— better yet, the Prophet, or that hag, Bathilda Bagshot— this one's for the history books—" Draco interrupted.
"Someone's eaten their Doxy eggs this morning—"
"What epiphany do I have the pleasure of hearing this morning, Nott?" Draco sighed. "It wasn't enough that I showed you the bloody cabinet?"
Earlier that morning, Draco and Theo had made their way to the Room of Hidden Things, dragging a Polyjuiced Goyle along with them to keep watch. Draco had also had to drag Theo, who had been wholly unfocused once inside the room, fascinated by the sheer amount and variety of goods stored between its cavernous walls.
It turned out Theo had heard of Vanishing Cabinets, but had about as much idea how to fix them as Draco.
"It's old magic, I know that," Theo had explained, "Like Portkeys and Floo Powder. I'll start there with my research."
It's something, Draco had figured as they'd left the room, shooing a freshly memory-wiped Goyle into a bathroom until the Polyjuice wore off. And something's better than nothing, Draco reasoned, which was all he'd been able to manage on his own.
"Hear me out… I've been thinking you should just hook up with Parkinson— actually, why not Greengrass—"
Grass… freshly mowed, like the garden at home… the words echoed automatically in Draco's mind, but as he remembered they'd been Granger's words when she'd smelled the Amortentia, he felt rather like he could use a punch square in the face.
"—knowing Parkinson, you'd end up with a little Draco Junior crawling around the common room this time next year," Nott continued.
The image made Draco want to jump off the Astronomy Tower.
"I really don't have the energy to kill you this morning, Nott— didn't Ogden punish you enough? Also, should I even bother to ask why the hell you've been thinking about me hooking up with anyone? You know what— no, forget that part. I don't want to know."
"Think about it Malfoy, y'know— Greengrass… maybe her grass is greener after all? She'd give you a chance to get it out of your system, at least."
"Get what out of my system?" Draco asked, thinking he'd prefer to spend a whole day failing to mend the cabinet than listen to another second of 'Theo's Theories.' Plus, Draco felt that Greengrass was only slightly less deplorable than Parkinson.
"Your— I don't know— whatever it is— with Granger."
"I'm not the one spending all my time brewing a lousy potion with her and falling over myself to give her my seat at Slughorn's dinners—"
"That's just typical Theo behavior," Theo explained plainly. "Chivalry, and whatnot."
"Speaking of typical Theo behavior, you never told me how you got that Ogden's. How'd you manage to smuggle it from the Estate? Sprock?"
"Draco, my friend, how short your memory is! Don't you remember— you asked me where I'd been last night and where I got the firewhiskey— two questions, one answer."
"Save me the Ravenclaw riddles, Theo. This isn't the fucking Tales of Beedle—" Draco stopped dead in his tracks as he realized the single answer to his different questions.
"You can't be serious— Granger got you that Ogden's?"
"I never drink and tell…"
"Impossible. I don't believe you."
She'd never be that much fun, Draco thought.
"I hate to say it, especially because I'm trying to stop you from traveling any further down your dark and dangerous path… but the mudblood's growing on me. First she gets you pinned at wand-point, then she Confunds that arsehole McLaggen, and now she's taking shots of Ogden's straight from the bottle—"
"Seems like you've got something to get out of your system," Draco replied sarcastically.
"No, no— Granger and I could never be— battle of the brains and all that— we'd spend hours debating the Principal Exceptions of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration—"
"Don't you psychos get off on that sort of thing?" Draco asked.
"Well, now that you mention it…"
"You disgust me."
Theo laughed out loud, "Can't handle a bit of fun this morning, Draco? Or is the thought of me and Granger together just clouding your vision?"
"I—" Draco sputtered.
"Enough about Potter's girlfriend—" Theo interrupted.
"Potter's g—"
"Granger's got her admirable qualities, to be sure, but she's not my type… although I'm not sure what my type is really," Theo continued nonchalantly, ignoring Draco's agitation.
"Seriously, Nott—? Greengrass? That vapid, empty sack of skin and hair people actually refer to as a person?" Draco grimaced. "I take it back, you don't disgust me, you revolt me… you make the image of Hagrid snogging a blast-ended skrewt seem like a masterpiece—"
"And here I was thinking you had no artistic vision— but yes, Greengrass. Vapid. Brainless. Empty sack. I'm glad you seem to be getting it— she seems perfect for a shag, no strings attached," Theo explained as they found their seats at the Slytherin table.
Knowing Theo was watching him, Draco did his best to avoid glancing over at the Gryffindor table, a habit he only now realized he'd formed.
"No. Some of us have standards, you know."
"Sissy would be so proud of you for protecting the Malfoy and Black lineage… didn't realize she was so accepting of Muggle-borns, though. Guess you learn something new every day."
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A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing!