Chapter Seventeen

High Fever

September 14, 2001

I land on my feet, a few meters in front of the wrought-iron gates of Malfoy Manor. I try to ignore the tingling feeling at the back of my neck, reminding myself that I am here by choice, not dragged by Snatchers to be killed. I remember myself and before I have the chance to wonder how I can get in; a deep voice speaks.

"State your name and the purpose of your visit."

The sound is coming from a face formed by the iron. Of course, the Malfoys have a talking gate.

"I'm Hermione Granger and I'm here to visit Draco Malfoy," I stutter.

The gate is silent and seems to be considering my answer. Maybe I should get back. This was a mistake after all. Before I can Disapparate, the gates finally open.

I follow the straight path, lined with high yew hedges along each side, to the entrance. I hear the sound of a fountain from somewhere while a white peacock glides from a branch to my left. After what seems to be a long walk, I arrive at the doors which immediately open. A house-elf dressed in a clean, white pillowcase, greets me at the entrance.

"Welcome, Miss Hermione Granger," the house-elf bows at me. "The Mistress is waiting for you. Please follow Blinky."

The house-elf turns and I struggle to follow. The Mistress? She didn't mean Narcissa Malfoy, did she?

I hear the murmurs of the pale-faced portraits on the walls and try to ignore them. I'm sure they have nothing good to say about me. Blinky leads me to a parlor I don't recognize, thank Merlin.

It's a cozy room—a fire place on one side, a couch facing it, and a side table with a pile of books perched on it. On the other side, a large window that lends a beautiful view of the garden sits. Casting a shadow against it is a blonde woman with regal-looking powder blue robes. Narcissa Malfoy turns to me elegantly and a small smile graces her lips.

"Miss Granger, so nice to finally meet you." Narcissa Malfoy extends her hand and I almost curtsy with the formality of it all.

"Mrs. Malfoy, nice to meet you. Call me Hermione, please," I mumble back, receiving a smooth hand in my own. Mrs. Malfoy schools an open expression, as if truly glad to have me here.

"Hermione, dear, call me Narcissa. Would you like some tea?" she offers. Blinky looks up, waiting for the order.

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose. I was just dropping by to see how Mal-Draco is doing. I heard he was sick," I explain.

"Of course, you must be worried," she says like she knows a secret I wasn't made aware of. "Blinky, will you please lead our guest to Draco's room?"

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy," the house-elf answers before turning to me. She doesn't wait for my acknowledgement before leaving the room to lead the way.

Suddenly, I wasn't sure what I was doing here. I look at Narcissa again and she gives me what looks like a reassuring smile. I find myself out the same hallway, up a flight of stairs, turning to the right wing of the Manor, and turning left at the end of a bright hallway lined by doors on either side. On the right side of the hallway are windows showing the same garden seen in the parlor room. There's a gazebo past a fountain and I think how beautiful the view is in autumn. On this side of the Manor, I don't feel I am in the same dark place we ended up in during the war.

We stop at a door with a dragon-shaped doorknob. I resist to roll my eyes at this gaudy detail.

Blinky knocks on the door three times.

"Master Draco, Miss Hermione Granger is here."

The room is silent for a while before a familiar voice says Enter. I then hear the pounding of the heart in my ears. Blinky must be hearing it because he looks up at me curiously before magicking the door open, revealing Malfoy sitting upright on a massive bed, covered in a forest green blanket.

"What are you doing here?" His voice is rasped, like he hasn't used it for a while.

Looking at him, I didn't know then that Malfoy could be so much paler than he already is. "You look pasty."

"Well, thanks for coming all the way here to tell me that."

He seems to struggle with the position he's in and I belatedly remember why I'm here.

"I'm sorry. How are you feeling," I ask instead.

"Are you going to stand there forever, Granger?" I roll my eyes. Blinky must have disappeared already as I find myself alone in the hallway. I cautiously enter the room and decide to close the door behind me. I try not to think why I did that and proceed to walk up his side, sitting on a black wingback.

"Seriously, Malfoy," I level him with a concerned look.

"So now you care?" His unspoken words weigh on me—Why haven't you talked to me in weeks?

"Prat. Of course I do. We're friends, remember?" I tell him just to remind myself.

"Of course," he says flatly and I see the emotion in his eyes vanish, now dead.

A silence. I'm not sure what to say. I stop the urge to climb up the bed and touch his face, his hair, and tell him it's gonna be okay. Nothing has to change.

"I really do like being your friend." I like you.

His eyes soften, as if remembering me, that it's still me.

"Come here," he beckons, patting the space beside him.

I look at his hand, inviting me to join him on the bed. I let a second pass by before standing up and scooting beside him. He moves over and we're both on his bed, him under the covers, me above it, staring at each other.

"Honestly, how are you feeling?" I ask as I hold a hand up against his forehead. I feel the warmth from the rest of his body.

He takes my hand and traps it between us. "I'm fine. It's just fever."

I look up, and his eyes are set on his fingers, tracing patterns on my hand, turning it over so my palm faces up.

"I missed you," he whispers as his fingers intertwine with mine.

"Don't," I start, about to pull my hand.

"I broke up with Astoria," he says, returning my gaze finally.

"Why would you do that," I ask breathlessly.

"I don't like being just your friend, Granger. I'm afraid I want more."

My breath is caught in my lungs. For the first time, my mind struggles to keep up.

Draco Malfoy continues, unbothered by the tornado inside me, "And if you're too afraid to acknowledge what's between us, then I'll just have to convince you otherwise."

I feel the warmth of his lips first before my brain registers what's happening. They're slightly dry but soft. He takes his time exploring and I feel my heart settling. Finally, I inhale and I am assaulted by Draco's intoxicating smell—fresh laundry with a hint of musk. I return the kiss and all is right in the world. When we both come up for air, I keep my eyes closed.

"Draco," I whisper, too afraid to disturb this euphoric feeling. 'Malfoy' suddenly felt impersonal.

"Granger, look at me." His hand holds my chin up and a stormy pair of eyes greet me. "I tried to deny it. But you know how selfish I am."

He smirks and I can't stop the smile on my face.

"As soon as I realized this isn't some passing fancy, I had to let go of Astoria," he continues, turning serious again.

"That! When did that happen? Why didn't you tell me?" I accuse him now.

"I did try! You wouldn't talk to me let alone spare me a glance!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that? You ran off like you regretted kissing me so much," I practically pout.

"How couldn't I? I had a girlfriend but I was crazy for another woman. You must understand that I had to stop lest I shagged you right on your blasted sofa."

My eyes must be round like saucers right now with the revelation that Draco Malfoy wanted to shag me as much as I did.

"Malfoy," I groan, covering my face with my hands.

"Draco," he corrects, peeling my hands from my face. "You can't go back to 'Malfoy' now that you've called me Draco."

"Draco," I start, testing the word on my tongue. "You can't just tell people you want to shag them."

"But you're not people, Granger. I'm afraid if I don't say it, you'll just misunderstand and come up with your own conclusions. I can't stand another month without talking to you."

"You're exaggerating again. It was just three weeks," I explain.

"Well, it certainly felt longer than that," he says this as his eyes droop lower.

After a while, he speaks tentatively, "Granger, do you want to sleep here tonight?"

"Are you crazy? You are sick!" I half shout, half whisper, as if all the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor could hear this conversation right now.

He wraps me in his arms and I absently snuggle closer.

"I didn't say anything about shagging. As much as I want to, my body is too weak to do anything anyway," he says clearly dozing off already.

"Fine. Go to sleep, Malfoy," I mumble against his chest.

He hums before succumbing to sleep.

A/N: I am aware how I haven't updated this in forever so to the returning readers, thank you. I lost all my files related to this fic so I had a really hard time getting back to it. I haven't written more than this chapter but I am posting this in the chance that I also get the inspiration to finish it. To be honest, I had a different plan for this story. This chapter, as far as I can remember, turned out differently when I first wrote it. But I guess I'm as excited as every Dramione fan out there for these two to get together. I also felt like there was no point in delaying the inevitable. On another note, sorry for the mistakes you found in the previous chapters. When I reread it, I realized that some words were mysteriously cut lol. I'll try to correct those as soon as I can. Thank you, thank you everyone. I wish you are all safe wherever part of the world you are.