A/N: Thanks for everyone who has read so far - I really hope you're enjoying it! I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, but I've been away at a conference for a week! I'm back now though so I should be updating quicker (hopefully!)
There's also reference to alcohol/alcohol issues in this chapter - just to warn anyone, keep yourself safe while reading :)
There had been a moment, one tiny fraction of a second, in which Hermione had gotten a glimpse of what Draco was really like now… For that brief moment she understood that he was confused; he didn't understand what his role meant, or that Hermione genuinely did want him to help. It seemed like he was under the impression that he had been given Head Boy-ship because he was a Slytherin… He didn't seem to comprehend that he had been chosen because he was talented, and a role model – who had made mistakes, and considerable ones at that – but who was trying to get his act together and rectify those mistakes now. It just so happened that he was also a Slytherin, but that hadn't been the defining reason why he was selected. Well, that's what Hermione thought… There was definitely a better chance of uniting the students if the prefects and those in leadership showed better unison. Ernie and Padma were wonderful, both of them had been a lot of help already – but there was still the subtle prejudice in both of them, whether it was purely against Draco or wider against all Slytherins it wasn't quite clear; prejudices were easy to hide and that wasn't conducive to a good union. Needless to say a non-communicative Draco wouldn't be too much help either! Hermione felt like she had missed her chance to get through to Draco; she was getting through to him, until she saw the blood leaking through his sleeve, then she had panicked… And judging by his reaction, he had panicked too.
The next few weeks passed incredibly fast; the work that the seventh years were given was beginning to mount up. Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna spent most of their free time in the library studying and completing homework. Hermione didn't forget what Professor McGonagall had asked her to do, but it was becoming more and more difficult. Draco remained very withdrawn, it was uncommon to see him in the Great Hall, and during classes he remained silent; increasingly it seemed like he was in his own little world.
Despite attending the first meeting with McGonagall and the first prefect team meeting, Draco didn't turn up to the second meeting that Hermione arranged with McGonagall to go over the ideas that the prefect team had come up with. With McGonagall's approval of the ideas that Hermione had whittled down herself, she was able to arrange another full prefect meeting to relay the news and set up committees. The prefects were split into three committees: one to organise a Christmas ball; another to organise a school concert; and a third to organise a school play. Each group had a teacher to head them up, Professor McGonagall had agreed to assist with the ball, Professor Flitwick was to help with the concert, and Professor Sprout to head up the group in charge of the school play. The result of the meetings with the full prefect team and with McGonagall led to the agreement that the Christmas Ball would be split into two sections, the first part for the first to third years and the second for fourth years and above – a feast joining them together. The concert would be in early spring – around Easter; and the play later on in the summer term – with tickets going to be available after Christmas. That side of being back at school was all coming together… The only part that wasn't turning out as she hoped, was Draco… She didn't particularly want to tell tales on him, but her concern was growing daily.
October rolled in, and brought with it heavy sheets of rain that battered against the castle windows and glass so loudly that it became difficult to hear Professor Sprout when they were working in the greenhouses. The plans that Hermione had been working through as part of her Head Girl duties meant that she had been busy every night of the week; the three prefect committees had been working well in co-ordination with one another and with Hermione. Already some of the plans were coming together – a choir had been set up in preparation for the concert; dates chosen for all three events; and Hermione was beginning to relax into her intended role without stressing about doing everything by herself. She was learning that delegation was the key to being Head Girl; but if only she could get Draco to share in the delegation. In the first week of October she received another letter from Harry, filling her in about the trop that he and Ron were on; they were in Egypt now, staying with Bill's old mates – and by the evidence of the photos that Harry had included in the letter, it looked like they were having a fantastic time. For the first time since she had been back at school she felt a slight pang of sadness… It would have been nice to go with the two of them, despite the fact that it would probably have become awkward after she and Ron had stopped seeing each other. She was surprised, however, at Harry's reaction to the news that she had told him in her replying letter, about Draco being chosen to be Head Boy – she had kind of expected him to be outraged, but his reply sounded cordial, and more mature than she would have given him credit for.
'It must have been difficult for him to choose to go back… I don't think I could have faced coming back to Hogwarts so soon after the War, and well, he wasn't exactly on the right side, was he? Professor McGonagall knows what she's doing though, and I'm sure that she chose him for good reasons.' Hermione had been affirmed by his reply, as that was exactly what she had been trying to convince herself of… Hermione had thought, or maybe she had been hoping, that Draco might have settled back into the life of the school; but, alas, it didn't seem that the rest of the students were going to let that happen. Several times Hermione witnessed groups of younger students whispering, pointing, and sometimes actually catcalling, when Draco passed them in the corridor. She wanted to do something about it, she had to bite her tongue a few times; she always held herself back, reminding herself that it wasn't her place to get involved. Yet whenever she thought about those moments in retrospect, she felt guilty about not doing anything to help…
That Saturday evening, Hermione was in one of the window desks in the library that looked out towards the lake and the forest, the east wing of Hogwarts only just visible from the particular window she was sitting at. She had been in the same place for nearly five hours now, and although she had finished her own work ages ago, Neville, Ginny and Luna were all still working… well, in all honesty they were sitting chatting in low voices about the transfiguration work they were meant to be completing. The sky outside had been overcast all day, great grey rainclouds had been hanging low in the sky throughout dispersing vast quantities of water. The surface of the lake looked as though it was being pummelled with the raindrops that were hitting it; now the sky was beginning to darken as night crept in. Hermione was staring out of the window – she had been half listening to the conversation her friends were having and half watching the rain that was flowing in memorizing patterns on the windows; she had been sitting in this position for half an hour, observing the rain and the darkening sky. A bright flash of light somewhere near the edge of the east wing caught Hermione's eye through the greyness of the evening; at first she thought it must be someone turning on a light in that part of the castle, but then it happened again. It was a pure white light, the kind of beam that was produced out of a wand with the 'lumos' enchantment; it flared for a moment and then vanished again. Hermione stared out of the window, watching for the light again; she stared for so long with nothing reoccurring that she began to wonder whether she had imagined it… but just as she turned away, she saw the blaze of light for the third time. Pure white, it illuminated the side of the castle wall that faced out onto the lake; through the gloom she could almost make out a figure, whoever it was would be soaked through, the rain was enough to drench a person through in seconds. She couldn't explain why, but she was filled with a sinking feeling about who that figure out in the grounds in the rain was… When the light flashed again, the suspicion that she had, looked like it was confirmed, the wand lit up a wash of white blond hair. The sky had almost darkened to deep navy and the rain was still obscuring the vision from the window; Hermione's heart had begun to pound in her chest, she looked over at Neville, Luna and Ginny before collecting up the books she had been using for her homework into her arms, muttering a word of apology to the rest of them and leaving the library. She rushed up the staircases to the Gryffindor dormitory, depositing the books and homework in a pile on her bed; grabbing a jacket, she resolved to at least check and see if the person out in the grounds was alright – especially as she was almost certain that that person was Draco. She hadn't forgotten the promise she had made to Professor McGonagall, and honestly, no one should be outside in that weather, not unless they were aiming to get hypothermia…
From the instant that Hermione stepped out from underneath the doors of the castle, the water seeped through her clothes, drenching her jeans, infiltrating through the, supposedly, waterproof hood of her jacket. The rain was so heavy that it was almost difficult to see more than a few steps ahead of her, and she was heading in the general direction of where she thought the light had come from – the water on the ground beginning to make the grass underfoot slippy, and feeling the creeping of cold water that had gotten into her shoes and was gradually spreading through the material of her socks. As she reached the area where she was sure she had seen the figure, she tried – as the person had done – to light her want, but clearly the dampness of the night was too much for it and it was instantly snuffed out. She found the edge of the wall and proceeded along until her feet bumped into something solid. Bending down, she saw the white blond hair that confirmed it to be Draco Malfoy; he was slumped against the wall, his eyes closed and the water soaking through his hair and running down his face.
"Draco?" Hermione bent down, putting her hand on Draco's sopping wet shoulder and giving it a little shake. There was no response from Draco, his eyes stayed closed. "Draco, come on Draco…" Hermione squeezed his shoulder again, trying not to encroach upon his personal space too much. The rain was still coming down very hard, and Hermione was beginning to shiver with the cold. She couldn't stay out here, and neither could Draco; otherwise the both of them would get ill from the chill. "Oh God, oh God… what am I supposed to do?" Hermione moaned, dithering on the spot even though the water was creating puddles in the bottom of her shoes. "Draco!" Hermione tapped on Draco's face, still to no avail; she sighed and made her decision.
Gripping onto Draco's cold wrist she hoisted him up, placing one of his arms around her neck so that she could support his weight. She was surprised at how limp his body was, and how light he was; she pulled him upright so she was supporting his weight. Draco didn't even stir, and Hermione was convinced now that he was completely and utterly unconscious… She had no idea why or how he was in such a state on a Saturday evening, or how he had ended up unconscious and slouched against the east wing…
By the time that Hermione had reached the front door she was trying to hold up Draco; but was trying to think about what she was going to do when she got inside the castle… What was she supposed to do with an unconscious Draco? Did she take him to the hospital wing? But she had no idea exactly why Draco was unconscious, and she felt an inexplicable loyalty to him… She didn't want to get him in trouble.
Where the hell could she go? She couldn't take him down to the Slytherin common room – for one thing she wasn't really sure exactly where it was… She couldn't take him up to the Gryffindor common room, he certainly wouldn't get a welcome reception in there' no matter how hard people pretended that they had nothing against the Slytherins she knew that the courtesy didn't extend to Draco… She was also kind of worried about how she was going to get through the corridors without being seen – it wasn't like she had Harry's invisibility cloak to hide under anymore. There was one definite though; she couldn't stand outside in the rain holding Draco up… Where could she go away from students, that she could make sure that Draco was okay…? Then it hit her: the Room of Requirement. If she could get Draco up the stairs and into the Room of Requirement then she would be safe. The Room of Requirement would keep them sheltered against anyone finding them – at least until Draco was conscious again, and then she could find out why he was out in that weather by himself… Hoisting Draco's arm more firmly around her neck, securing him into a more upright position, despite him actually being unconscious; she grasped his wrist tightly and made her way quickly in through the entrance hall towards the marble staircase. The absence of the flow of heavy rain felt like a weight was being lifted from Hermione's head, yet Draco'[s dea weight was not relieved any… She didn't break her stride, she wasn't going to let any student who might be out in the corridors get a glimpse of her, and her burden for more than a few seconds... Luckily, as it was nearly eight o'clock on a Saturday night, with the miserable weather, most people were in the warmth of their own common rooms rather than wandering about in the drafty corridors. Hermione wasn't as strong as she had thought, by the time she was at the sixth floor her legs were aching from the amount of stairs she had climbed, supporting Draco; she was gasping for air and repeating in her mind: 'Just one more set of stairs, just one more set of stairs!'
Hermione dropped the unconscious Draco down against the blank stretch of wall across from the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy teaching trolls ballet, and stood for a few seconds, regaining her breath. She looked at Draco one last time, and then strolled back and forth along the corridor, thinking 'We need somewhere to hide', three times she walked up and down intoning this in her head, when she stopped a door had sprung into life in the, before, blank, stone wall. She rushed forward, once again hoisting Draco up and holding one arm around his waist to keep him up, and opened the door to the Room of Requirement and went inside. The Room of Requirement had done its job; there was a low bed with a turned back duvet – that Hermione helped Draco over to it and lowered him onto it gently. After swinging his legs up onto the bed, she directed her want at him and cast a charm to dry his clothes. It would at least take the worst of the water away, she turned her wand on her own clothes – and was grateful of it, as the cold had been beginning to penetrate through her skin into her very core. The drying of Draco's and her own clothes had taken a few moments, but once that was done Hermione stood still, suddenly realising that she had no idea what she should do with an unconscious Draco. She was still for a long time, just staring at Draco on the bed; she could see his chest rising and falling so at least he was breathing… She was beginning to think that it might have been a better idea to take Draco to the hospital wing, because now she was alone with him, she had absolutely no clue how to help him, and the panic was rising in her chest…
Draco was unconscious; what if there was something really wrong with him? How long should she wait and see if he regained consciousness before actually going for help? Even if – when – Draco woke up, how would he react to it being her that had brought him inside? Would he be angry with her? Or would he still be indifferent…
Every horrible possibility was flashing in front of Hermione's eyes as she stood, watching Draco. And as she watched, she noticed that his breathing was quicker than ususal, that his ribcage was quite clearly visible through his long sleeved t-shirt, and that his face was very, very pale… He looked a pitiable state. She felt sorry for him more than anything else… Hermione could understand what Luna had meant when she said she felt sorry for Draco… Hermione had been pursued during the War as a mudblood, but she had never truly been an outcast… lonely probably. He looked lonely; and Hermione felt bad for him. But now was not the time to be wondering about whether Draco was lonely; as he was stirring where he lat. His eyes flickered and opened, but his gaze was unfocussed and he was shivering.
"Draco?" Hermione said quietly, she was wary of bending down next to him and startling him, as he still seemed rather unaware of his surroundings. "Draco, can you hear me?" She took a couple of steps forwards so that she was able to be seen in his eye line. He raised his hand up to his head automatically, where his still damp hair was plastered down onto his face; he rubbed the back of his head, probably at the part that had hit the wall when he went down. As he heard Hermione' voice he jumped and stared rather wildly.
"Oh God – am I dead?" His words gushed out in a rather slurred manner, his hand still rested on the back of his head. Hermione's heart catapulted into her throat; all the rumours that she had heard about Draco drinking were suddenly weighing heavily in her chest… If they had been true and he had been drinking tonight then that could account for his thick speech, but if he hadn't been drinking then it was possible to could be concussed… And concussion could be serious.
"No, you're not dead." Hermione replied, tensing up over the prospect of trying to find out whether Draco was seriously injured, or just drunk. He groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed that had been provided by the room.
"Where the hell am I?" He asked, still slurring and looking rather wobbly while upright.
"You're in the Room of Requirement." Hermione answered, trying to take in as much information from Draco's positioning and appearance that she could.
"The Room of Req-" He had started, sounding incredulous, but stopped abruptly; Hermione could visibly see all of the colour draining from his face, he swallowed noticeably. "Is there a bathroom in here?" He asked very sharply, and his words were not slurred.
"I don't know – I hadn't checked…" She said, looking around and noticing a door at the end of the room. "That might be one…" She proffered, but Draco had obviously noticed the door before she had as he bounded from the bed and towards that door, which turned out, thankfully to be a bathroom. Hermione didn't follow Draco in – that would be inappropriate and rude – but she hovered outside the door, trying to figure out exactly what she should be doing in this situation… She felt awkward, like she was viewing something she shouldn't be, but she also felt compelled to stay, compelled to make sure Draco was alright… And it wasn't purely because McGonagall had asked her to look out for him.
Inside the bathroom Draco was on his knees, the stone floor digging into his knees, but that wasn't the most pressing issue at that moment. His stomach was making strange lurching sensations inside him, his mouth was suddenly filled with too much saliva and he swallowed repeatedly, feeling more sick by the second. He knew he wasn't going to be able to resist this for much longer, the more he swallowed the more inevitable it became that he wasn't going to avoid throwing up… His arms were trembling as he held himself upright and close to the toilet bowl, waiting… and hoping beyond all hope that this feeling might go away. Just as he thought it might be beginning to subside, and as he loosened his grip, his body rebelled against him; he lurched forwards and vomited.
Hermione was standing outside the door, which she had realised must be a bathroom by Draco's non-reappearance; she bit her lip as she hovered, now feeling completely and utterly out of her depth. She could hear Draco throwing up inside the bathroom, and dithered about whether she should go in and check on him. If it went quiet for a prolonged period then she would check. Her resolve to find out whether Draco had been drinking was becoming stronger the longer she stood there, because if he hadn't been drinking then it could mean he had done some serious damage when he hit his head – and she wasn't going to risk Draco's life over a fear of asking him whether he had had a drink.
It seemed to go on and on, Draco felt as though he had been in that position for hours; his arms aching from holding himself upright, and his knees shaking and sore with being situated on the cold stone floor. Every time that he thought it might be over, his muscles all contracted and it began all over again. Every inch of his body hurt; he didn't know how it was possible for him to still be throwing up – he had hardly eaten anything in the past three days, so where on earth was his body getting it from?
Eventually it seemed like it was over… there was nothing left inside him, and he felt so empty and weak. He rested his back against the wall of the toilet, breathing deeply and trying to stop his hands from shaking. He closed his eyes, he was having trouble remembering the events of this afternoon – how he had ended up here… He knew he had been out in the grounds, and then the rain had started, and his brain had jammed… He couldn't walk straight, he could hardly see, and he had been so cold and wet that he might have jumped right into the lake. He hadn't had that much to drink… or he hadn't thought he had. He had tried to find his way back to the entrance of the castle, but the rain was so heavy that he wasn't sure what direction he had been going in… and that was all he could remember until he woke up – in the Room of Requirement with Hermione Granger… How had she found him? Why had she brought him here? His eyes snapped open… would she be waiting for him?
A/N: I'd love to know what you're thinking about this chapter/whole story so far! :)