Draco woke with a start. His hand rested on the side of bed where Granger's body should have been. It was cold.
Effects of the spells from Perdita were known to have wild downfalls. Anything was possible to happen on the down swung, including another high. Draco sat upright and stalked out of the bedroom into the flat with precision. She wasn't there. He glanced into Ginny's room and too found it completely empty.
Then he heard it. A subtle drip. An echo.
He scanned the flat and found no source. The only place left was the en suite loo in her room. His worry propelled him to open the door without knocking, a situation that could have turned disastrous within seconds.
A single halo of light filtered in from the skylight above. The bright sun didn't reflect the true nature of the weather outside, a cloud-filled sky filled with rain. Still, it ignited the cold tile bathroom enough to allow him to see through to every corner.
Empty shower. Clear glass encased. Odd choice. No one at the sink or in front of the mirror.
But the drip. It was there. Draco stepped inside, catching the sight of red in the corner of his eye.
He spun on toe and saw Hermione, eyes closed head tilted back, in a watery tub stained bright red.
No! No, it couldn't be.
His hands trembled as he stumbled near and entered the water that had gone cold. The red surrounded his hands. A tub filled of her blood, her life.
"No, Granger. No. You can't do this," he cried.
Her body was slippery. He gripped her body hard and pulled her out, splashing crimson droplets as he went.
The coolness of her flesh raced his thoughts. Slack expression of her face tortured him. She hanged in his arms as a limp doll. He lowered it to the floor and poured over her to find the source of the bleeding. Wrists, forearms. Neck. Even between the toes, he checked every single one. There was nothing. No gash. No wicked awful slit in any artery.
Where was the blood? Why didn't he see it?
Draco dipped his fingers into the tight indent of her neck and paused. A steady pulse lived on. It pushed against his fingers with vigor.
"Granger! Can you hear me? Gra – Hermione, damn it. Hermione?" He shook her shoulders until her face finally moved.
It was the sudden rush of life as she catapulted forward, shivering and shaking, eyes wide in horror. Whimpers escaped her throat as she gasped for air. She was still soaked from the bath and ultimately naked on a tile floor. A soft purple lined her lips as she looked around, frantic almost.
Draco put his hands on her shoulders and steadied her the best he could. The shivers were violent trembles.
"Malfoy, I – I must have fallen asleep."
He let his shock show now. "I thought you were dead. Why the bloody hell would you cut yourself?"
Her eyebrows twisted in confusion. "Cut?"
"The tub is filled with your blood." His voice rose higher. The beating of his heart had yet to steady. "Did you want to die? I was right there. You could have woken me. Bloody Salazar, you're better than that. Better than a bloody end like some diva."
She was violently trembling now. Her entire body was blue. Goosebumps puckered her flesh. The hairs on her body raised at attention. It was a horrid sight to see her in such a way. Draco let his anger fall by the wayside, wrapped his arms around her and carried her back to the bed, certain to wrap her in layers of sheets and blankets.
Breath returned to normal, but it wasn't helping. A night in a tub was close to hypothermia. Not warming her right away was a big mistake.
"Damn it." He groaned.
Granger stared at the ceiling with lifeless eyes as her body quaked. It was out of her control. She needed to get warm.
Draco slid out of his shirt, reminding himself of the life or death situation that was there. He couldn't very well turn his back and let her die. He climbed into bed, again, next to her.
"Come here," he said.
She allowed herself to be pulled closer and sheets pulled away, even though it was clear through her face that she was unsure.
He bit back his own need. There was a beautiful witch pressed up against his bare chest with nothing on. It was clear that both were uncertain whether it should happen.
He tried to sound as professional as possible. "This will warm you quicker. Press against me. Your blood will start to flow soon enough."
There was no sound of resistance. It was memory of last night as she folded herself into the spaces that she fit against him like it was customary.
A year before and he would have given anything to be in that tender moment of need with her. Now, he knew it was just temptation. A fate that he couldn't consider. It was more important to stay away from any moment of closeness with her lest he find himself unnaturally attached to the witch and turn his life into one shitshow after the next.
When he told Daphne…no. If. A big if. If he told Daphne, he'd skip over the parts that nearly had him in sobs, such as finding Hermione in a supposed tub of blood after a terrible night of grief. It was obvious that she was distraught. That's why he agreed to stay, but he should have known better. Falling asleep beside her hadn't seemed so odd, since it was well after one when they finally laid in bed and he was a notorious light sleeper. How he had slept through anything, especially her filling the bathtub was beyond him.
Hermione breathed easier beside him. He felt a sense of relief, too, since she was alive and well near him. As long as he was with her, she couldn't do anything impulsive like a bloody Gryffindor and off herself in the night without his notice.
She looked up at him with warm eyes, now live with heat. "It wasn't blood."
"What?"
"It wasn't blood," she said. "I used a bath bomb last night. It turned the water colors with fragrance. Muggle thing."
Her voice was low, ashamed at the end of it. He sensed her embarrassment over the entire ordeal.
"I can understand why you think I'd do that. It's not like I haven't ever considered. Especially after last night."
Draco cleared his throat. "Right."
"I'm fine," she said.
"You sure about that?" He glanced at her sharply, brow cocked. "It doesn't seem like you're fine, Granger. You're in bed with me, for one."
Hermione smirked. "Now that's something odd to complain about."
"I'm just saying it's not typical for a girl like you to be with someone like me. Or, more decidedly, for you to be here with me," he reasoned. "Odd, isn't it? Former Death-Eater and War Heroine friends at last. It's ridiculous. Can you imagine what Potter'd say if he saw you right now."
Fighting against his hold, Hermione raised up above him. The chill of her skin had gone. She wasn't blue anymore. Instead she was given her peach complexion back. It was beautiful in the lazy light of cloudy skies. A few thick curls hanged down near her face fallen from a messy knot at the back of her head.
She gazed down at him with the densest pair of eyes. They examined each aspect of his face starting at his hairline, down to the straight bridge of his nose, round his piercing eyes taking time to come closer as their gazes locked, and concluded at his pink lips, parted for breath.
A pair of dainty fingers ran against his bottom lip. "Is that what you're so worried about?"
Worried? He wasn't worried. He was already lost in the moment. Lost in her touch like he never wanted to leave it.
Merlin. His life was on fire. In his hand, the very matches that sparked it.
"I'm not scared," he breathed.
"Then why do you react every time I move?"
Suddenly a light blazed in his eyes. "That's not fear."
A shy smile took hold of her lips. She looked away from him, trying to swallow it back.
"It's protection, isn't it? You move when I do, align yourself to be there when I need you, keep a watchful eye so I don't do anything stupid, stay with me at night so that you know I'm safe." It wasn't a question. She knew just how he acted and why. "I recognize it."
Draco got hot around the neck. His throat went all dry, no matter how much he swallowed, it wouldn't reanimate to life. More and more he tried to exercise control over his body, the less it responded. The sudden rise in his pants highlighted that further. A tent of fabric pitched up shop right next to Hermione's leg. It was impossible for her not to know.
He suddenly hopped out a bed hastily grabbing his shirt and shoes.
"I've got to go," he announced with a swallowed snarl.
She watched him from the bed, wrapped sheet around her bare chest and just nodded.
Draco fled the flat but didn't go home. He couldn't. There was only one place that would help him sort his thoughts.
The green flames transported him to an upscale flat on the magical side of London. Windows showed the height of the city of tall buildings of steel gray and a shimmering ward over top of Diagon Alley just below. Muggle cars polluted the streets near. Thick fumes rose up through the foggy air, adding to the smog that choked the city in constant cloud.
The open fireplace entered directly to an open two story flat with floor to ceiling windows. A giant candle chandelier ignited when Draco stepped forward.
Faint giggling from beneath a fur draped across the three-seater lounge gave a distinct sign to what exactly was happening.
He didn't have time to oblige.
"Blaise! Get your pants on."
There was a sudden gasp. A dark head popped out from below the shimmering orange fur.
"Hey! You look like shit. When you'd get here?"
Draco smirked. "Long enough to know you're not doing it right."
Blaise narrowed his eyes. "I'll not take my advice from someone who hasn't been laid since Hogwarts."
There was shuffling beneath the fur and Blaise tucked himself back under for a moment whispering, "No. Give me those. Yes. Ah, it's alright. It's just Malfoy."
It took a moment before Blaise emerged clad in cotton boxers. They were littered with dancing pickles with wings. Draco raised an eyebrow as his friend came closer.
Blaise shrugged. "Give me a break. Not everything has to be silk panties."
"What kind of life is worth living if your bits can't be spoiled?" Draco smirked.
They shared a laugh. Blaise swatted his back rested against his shoulder. It was just like old times. They'd been friends since their parents were associated within the same circles. Blaise came to the Manor often when his mother was out on another date. They played endlessly on the grounds.
He'd seen Blaise Zabini in just about every situation imaginable and still loved the guy even though the war left Draco with little emotional capacity for others.
Lucius Malfoy was taken away to Azkaban once the Dark Lord was killed. Draco was soon to go after him, if it hadn't been for Potter and Granger. His mother nearly went to Azkaban, too, but was saved by Potter.
The thought of his mother rotting away in the dank walls that had driven his aunt and uncle stark raving mad gave Draco Malfoy a new lease on life. One that motivated him through all the shit and slander and sneering from the public, even when the days felt hard and impossible to overcome, Draco kept on protecting the people near him.
He couldn't lose anyone else. It would be the end of his sanity.
"What happened last night?" Blaise questioned. "Gin sent me an owl late and said you found Granger. What happened?"
Draco rubbed his face. "A lot."
His friend was roused out of his calm. Interest silently leeched through his demeanor. Blaise brought his ear closer.
"Really? And just what does that entail?"
He ignored the question. "I need you and Daphne to do something for me."
"You know how favors go," Blaise smirked. It was clear that he wanted information. That was the way of a Slytherin after all. They lived on knowledge, especially privy information.
Draco tightened his lips. It was not for him to reveal Granger's lapse to others.
"I need you guys to ask Granger about Cormac McLaggen. You remember him? Granger said some things about him that Ginny won't explain. I think he might have hurt Granger," he explained.
Blaise's eyebrows leapt high. "Hurt her how?"
He felt his eyes turned dark at the thought of what the slimey man would do to Hermione, but the intentions of a man aren't too hard to guess. "Find out. Take Daphne and don't leave Granger alone without someone there at the flat."
"She's got a roommate, you know."
"Ginny is out of town for a week with the Harpies. Don't you pay attention?"
It was a clear known fact that Blaise absolutely paid close attention. The fact was just troubling that he was pretending not to know why. Draco knew Blaise's method, and soon realized that his friend was probing for information.
Blaise Zabini had an uncanny to sniff out secrets like a hound.
Draco ran his fingers through his hair. The action widened Blaise's black pupils.
"Whoa. Something happened with Granger." There was a giddiness in his voice. "Oh, Merlin. Tell me you finally poured out your heart and she's totally in love. Go on. Tell me."
He shook off his friend. "You're mental."
"You're not denying!" Blaise exclaimed.
"No. No way anything happened with Granger, yeah?"
Blaise stifled a gasp behind his fist. "Oh, my. It was intense. You can't even look at me now. Oh, lookie here. My friend, the blush. Here he comes. Oh dear. It's a big one. Got something you'd like to confess there Malfoy?"
Draco held his face in his hands and groaned, "Ugh. I need to talk to Daphne."
"Ready to call it all off, huh?"
"Shut up, Blaise." Draco snarled.