Disclaimer: I obviously own none of the rights to the Harry Potter universe or the cover image, but the plot is mine

The next morning, I am woken by someone prodding me with their foot. A mug of strong coffee is thrust under my nose and Pucey takes shape before my groggy eyes.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty."

I grumble my discontent and rub my face tiredly. When I pull my hands away from my face I can see that I am covered in the soot from last night's fire. I guzzle the coffee quickly but am no more alert than a moment ago. I peer quickly around the room to gain my bearings.

Lavender appears bright and fresh nearby, perfectly coiffed and shining in the morning sunshine. She is pouring coffee into a couple of mugs and is far too chipper for the early hour. Her mother, Dahlia, ushers me aside and hands me a gown discretely.

"Here dear, always important to look your best…" She sighs as she runs her eyes over me and takes in my mussed appearance and general lack of personal grooming.

What is the use of saving lives when you aren't appealing to men? I think nastily and then remind myself that she is a different creature than Minerva and I. I accept the gown politely and she ushers to a spare room where she strips me brusquely and proceeds to squash every organ I once had. I am too dazed to put up much of a fight but I finally brush her off when she begins fussing around my head. I do not trust her to style my hair, even I rarely have enough patience to wrestle it into any kind of style.

Scrubbing my face in a nearby water basin, I glance into the looking glass. Bright eyes, tanned freckled skin and a heaving next of runaway curls. I am as presentable as I'm likely to get. I brush aside the thought that I have taken extra care in case I see him.

I step back into the main room, snagging my bag as I pass and make my way up the staircase to the second level rooms, intent on finding my patient.

I find Potter's room where he is dozing in the morning sunshine. The dust motes are disturbed when I enter the room disturbing this peaceful sanctuary. But his jet hair is mussed from tossing and turning in the night. I warrant he is in pain based on the line forming between his eyes and the slight frown in his sleep.

I pour a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table and turn as Pucey enters silently behind me.

"A few drops milk of the poppy will help the pain when he wakes," I supply when he eyes the vial distrustfully. He moves further into the room without a word and situates himself in the only chair to keep an eye on the proceedings.

I place the water and vial on the table again and step towards the bed. Potter appears to remain sleeping and I reach forward to flick aside his long nightshirt and peer closely at the wound on his thigh. Pulling back the dressing I see that while slightly inflamed, the colour of the skin is good, and I prod gently to make sure his circulation is unharmed. I have leeches just in case but not maggots for cleaning the dead skin if required.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone so underwhelmed by my … dishabille." I stumble away from him wide eyed, caught in very close proximity to his equipment and distracted by my inner thoughts.

Pucey snickers behind me, having been silent otherwise.

"Mr. Potte -, " I stutter.

"Harry, please. If you are going to be that well acquainted with my body, we can at least use our first names."

He raises his eyebrows inquiringly while levering his body up to lean against the headboard.

"Hermione." I gesture meekly at myself by way of introduction.

"I don't remember you being this shy last night." He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously at me and I begin to laugh.

"Now I'm genuinely hurt – emotionally that is!" He is laughing though, which belies his statement.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry!" I am laughing near uncontrollably now, the stress of the previous day and the lack of proper sleep has made me giddy. I have the strange feeling that our souls have known each other forever. Despite his ridiculous teasing, I am instantly at ease.

I give him a fake once over with my eyes.

"It's not that you aren't the most beautiful man I've ever seen, … those dark lashes, moss green eyes..." I trail off teasingly beginning to fan myself coyly with my hand as he pretends to preen on the bed.

Pucey eyes us both strangely, not understanding the joke and shakes his head.

"Pucey, you daft bastard, help me up for a piss so I don't have to traumatize the lady."

I flush but step aside so Pucey can help Harry off the bed, moving towards the chamberpot in the corner. "I've seen most everything you have to offer sir, and I find it …lacking."

Harry stops and clutches his heart as if wounded before turning to relieve himself.

"She's got you figured out Potter."

I whip around, nearly colliding with the figure in the doorway.

Large hands steady my hips and hold me only slightly away from his body.

Him.

I inhale without intending to, and quickly catalogue the smells. Leather. Horse. Sandalwood and something else I can't quit name. Intoxicating.

I don't know how long I've been speechless in his arms but Pucey has helped Harry back to the bed. I, however, am hyper-focused on the hands as they slowly travel up my hips to my waist.

I step out of his embrace belatedly and avoid eye contact, though I can feel his gaze on me as I move back towards the bed.

"Three drops of the poppy milk and a glass of water to wash it down." I am back to nursing mode and busy myself with tending Harry. He grumbles jokingly, and accepts the vial and glass before following my orders.

"She's bossy! You should add her to your house guard, Malfoy. She'll have the gents in line before you can blink!" Harry jokes looking across the small room and over my shoulder.

Malfoy hasn't moved from the doorway. As I turn, his eyes are still fixed on me, but they flick to Harry in acknowledgement.

"Though she be little, she is fierce." His eyes spark as they connect with mine, and his lips quirk into a wry smile.

"Nothing but 'low' and 'little' - ?" I volley back without thinking. My quick mouth supplying the next Shakespearean line. His grin widens and he moves a single step in my direction. I have piqued his interest. He is holding himself back but speaks softly. "An educated wood-mouse."

My eyes shutter with anger and my spine stiffens. For a moment, I thought he recognized me as a kindred spirit, a fellow intellectual. Instead I am a novelty. A peculiarity in the form of an educated woman.

I retreat a step towards the bed, turning towards Harry to complete my nursing responsibilities.

"Three drops a day with water, every six hours if you can't bear it," I start, tapping the glass vial to remind him. "And no more or you'll be no good to anyone." I raise my eyebrows at this last part and Harry watches me momentarily, sliding his gaze to Malfoy and back to me before nodding his understanding. He is clearly sensing the awkward shift in the room but thankfully doesn't acknowledge the change.

I snag my bag from the floor and make my way towards the doorway, nodding at Malfoy and Pucey while avoiding their eyes.

I release a long breath as I make my way down the small hallway and towards the staircase. So much for true love.

A rough hand snags my wrist, and I whip around startled at the forward behaviour.

"I – I meant no offense." His eyes are a mix of ethereal glacier blue and gunmetal grey. I blink away my stupor and take a second to recall that I am furious.

"Then perhaps you should have kept your mouth shut. And you can keep your hands to yourself!" I snap at him before I can rein myself in.

He rears back slightly, eyes darkening angrily and clearly unaccustomed to being spoken to in this manner.

"You are – "

"What I am, is none of your concern." I will shut down this interaction before any silly notion or romance continues to go to my head. "You can have your own doctor tend to Harry when you return home, surely."

I storm down the stairs, making a bit of a spectacle in the main room of the inn. A couple day-drinkers stare blearily after me. I reach for the main door and pull it open before Lavender rushes towards me whispering harshly. "Hermione! You can't speak to him like that, do you have any idea who that is!?"

"I couldn't give a flying fig is he was king of the whole damned realm!"

"Well since you mention it…"

*ducks for cover* I promise I'm working on it - stay tuned! Always interested in hearing plot suggestions/desires and working them in where possible!