Chapter 10 Unfälle Eintreffen

A few days after the first challenge, the school buzzed about an accident which had happened during Quidditch practice. Normally, Hermione ignored gossip. However, since Quidditch was Harry's favorite sport, he had the entire scoop. "Well, I will be the blue team's seeker for the next match, but I don't like how it happened." Harry took a few bites of pork. "Draco took a bludger to the head, which knocked him out cold. He's still in the infirmary."

Quickly, Hermione fixed a plate of food before she excused herself so she could visit Draco. In any school infirmary, just like a hospital, they served tasteless food. In a large basket, she arranged the food at the bottom, with some school books on top, in case they had restricted his diet.

As she neared, she heard the chatter of several students leaving. When she entered, Draco sat in a hospital bed surrounded by empty ones, while a nurse inspected his wounds. "Spitze Malfoy, your wrist has already started healing. Your head injury isn't that serious, but we still want you to stay awake for the next few hours."

"Thanks, but I feel fine." Draco greeted Hermione with a welcoming smile.

"I can keep an eye on him."

"Very well, but if anything happens, immediately ring this to get me." The nurse handed her a small copper dinner bell just before she left.

"I'm so sorry about your accident, but I think this will help." Hermione removed the books and placed the food in front of him.

"Thank you so much. They tried to feed me the blandest food ever, but I didn't eat it."

She smiled as he finished. "Can I get anything else for you?"

"You can give me your solemn word to not tell the nurse about what I'm doing, and keep an eye out." Promptly, Draco tried to get out of bed but she pushed him back.

"You're staying in bed so you can get better. Well, at least let your food digest and see how you feel in a little while." She tucked him in. "You're supposed to beat the bludger with a bat, not your head."

Draco laughed as he settled back in bed. "I appreciate this, but you don't have to. You must have homework or something. This is an opportunity to study up and leave me in the dust." Then he saw her smile. "You're already ahead of me so you have no worries." Unable to resist, she laughed. "Taking advantage of an infirm, that's something a dark wizard would do."

"I'm studying you Draco, learning your weaknesses." As Draco laughed, she looked over his head injury. "Are you in any pain?" He shook his head. Inadvertently, she touched his hair. His hair feels so soft, like the fur on a kitten. "If you feel any pain or dizziness, you will let me know, promise?"

"Yes, Nurse Granger." Draco's eyes fluttered for a moment as if he were falling asleep.

"Hey you, stay awake. You've got a few hours before you can sleep."

"You're right." Hesitantly, he stood up despite her warning glare. "I really need to stretch my legs."

"As long as you promise to let me know if you feel dizzy."

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Together they strolled to the rose garden where Draco looked quite content. "The roses resurrect fond memories for you, don't they?"

"They bring back fond memories of my parents. My father made me promise to only think of the happy times, but not the sad ones, among other things." Hermione tilted her head in wonderment. "Also, they wanted me to uphold pure-blood traditions."

Upset, Hermione looked at the ground. "By passing legislation against Mudbloods," she muttered.

"No, by passing legislation that allows pure-blood families to rule within their own families with their own decrees and traditions, which have nothing to do with laws against Muggle-borns."

Hermione harrumphed at that. "That's not what the newspapers have reported. They claim your father was a proponent of anti-Muggle-born laws."

"My father believed in blood purity for the prominent families and upholding their traditions. However, he didn't care about the Muggle borns, one way or another. Initially, he backed Voldemort, but after awhile, he realized Voldemort was a maniac who only wanted carnage, and cared nothing about our traditions."

"History says that your father simply stopped the carnage because Voldemort was killed by rebels."

"That's not how it happened. Believe me, I know what really happened. Maybe one day, you'll realize that not all pure-bloods are evil and not all those in the opposition are saints." Now perturbed, Draco turned away from her.

"Draco, I realize that. The only facts I know are the ones I've read about. Please sit and relax." Dutifully, he did. "I've been told certain things about pure-bloods, but you've proven so many of those things false. I'm sure everyone has told you things about my kind."

"Yes," he replied. "You wouldn't believe the things I've heard about Mudbloods." The second after he said that word, he gasped. "I'm sorry." Shaking his head, Draco strolled into the maze until he reached a small cul-de-sac near the entrance.

Normally, that word offended Hermione but it didn't this time, since he didn't say it in order to insult, but just had a slip of the tongue, because he had heard it so many times before. Eventually, while Draco was staring at the stars, Hermione joined him, enjoying the scent of the roses. "Do you ever get the feeling society wants us to hate each other?"

Now he turned towards Hermione and looked into her eyes. "I certainly don't hate you. How could anyone hate someone so caring?" Draco's fingertips neared hers in the brisk air, to the point where she felt their warmth against hers: something so unexpected, that she nearly drew back in shock.

Close by, a deep voice broke their moment. "You're far more beautiful than any rose in this garden." Unmistakably, the voice belonged to Professor Snape.

Both Hermione and Draco covered their mouths and snuck away. When they returned to the infirmary, the nurse stood with one hand on her hip and the other pointing at the bed, while glaring at Draco. "I'll be watching you quite closely Spitze Malfoy. You have another hour, then you may sleep."

Humbly, he returned to bed. "Hermione, thank you."

"You're welcome."