Groggy and disoriented, she tried to get her bearings through blurry eyes. The fire was still crackling in the hearth and somehow, she had made it to the sofa. She glanced at the gilded clock on the mantle and saw that it was one in the morning. The young witch groaned and chided herself for not going to bed when she had felt sleepy.
'At least there you could have fallen back to sleep,' she muttered under her breath.
As she went to get up to go to her room, she caught a movement on her left, from where their study desk was pushed against the window. Tugging and smoothing her loose sweater back, she quickly swiped a hand over her face and hoped she didn't look as bedraggled as she felt. She tracked Malfoy from the corner of her eye as he walked slowly towards her as if unsure whether to approach or not.
Confused as to his attitude, Hermione looked up at him shyly and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.
Draco took a second to be relieved then crossed the rest of the distance between them. The past minutes had been torture for him, as he looked at the Gryffindor girl tossing and turning on the sofa.
There had been no sound to indicate that she was in distress and he battled his instincts to just shake her awake anyway. Then, she had grasped her arm where that hideous scar was forever carved and her mouth had opened in a silent scream of pain. The memories from that night in the Manor had assaulted his senses; despair clawing in his chest, his heart constricted in his throat and his eyes could see the rivulets of blood.
Now he took a steadying breath and hunkered down next to her. There had been curiosity in her eyes and not the hatred he'd expected. Relieved as he was, he could not stop his next words even if he had tried.
"Your compassion, Hermione, it would never stop to astound me."
She remained motionless. 'Probably still caught in the webs of the nightmare,' he reasoned.
"Should I get you a glass of water or help you to your room? Hermione? Hey Granger, are you okay?" Draco put his hand on her left knee to get her attention.
The touch pulled the girl out of her thoughts and she was mortified to feel the colour rush to her cheeks.
'Oh Merlin, why did she always get those inappropriate thoughts when he was close?' she despaired helplessly.
The fire behind him caught the shine in his hair and cast a beautiful glow around him. His voice, smooth and velvety, carried over the faint notes of posh upbringing. And his black sweater, cashmere she was sure, did nothing to hide the muscles of his arm, the arm whose hand was on her knee, probably to get her attention. 'Because he is talking to you, idiot!' her mind seems to shout at her.
She winced and looked up at him, immediately missing the warmth as he drew back his hand.
"Ah…what were you saying before?"
"I was just asking if you wanted water or help to get to your room. The nightmare…," he trailed off, glancing at her arm.
"Oh the nightmares are getting easier and lighter since Christmas. Today, it was a flash of pain then gone," she admitted quietly. "I would like some water though. Should I grab you a glass too?"
"I'll get it. Don't move, just sit back," he said.
He got to his feet and moved to the chest near the entrance where the elves stocked their snacks and hot drinks in charmed containers.
He figured tea would calm her more than water and with a flick of his wand, set the tea-making process in action. She looked fine right now but her initial unresponsiveness had bothered him. She had been staring at him as if in a trance and he was afraid he'd stirred up dregs of her nightmare.
That was why, as soon as he handed her the tea, he announced his leave.
"If you need anything Granger, I'd be in my room. I'll just grab my stuff and go up."
"You don't have to leave on my account Malfoy," she protested.
"It's okay. I can wager a guess on what your nightmare was about and I don't want to make you uncomfortable in your own common room," he reassured her.
"Our common room," she corrected. "You are head boy, remember?"
Her little jab wrangled a small slow smile out of him, smiles that Hermione knew were rare enough to be treasured any time they appeared.
The witch reckoned that since they were talking, she could make the most of it.
She patted the cushion next to her in an invitation and took a sip of tea. He hesitated for a moment before joining her, gaze riveted on the clump of Asphodel that Neville had dropped off yesterday. She had placed them in the Holyhead Harpies mug, courtesy of Ginny to the Heads as they had gotten special permissions for the Harpies' scouts to attend one of her matches last semester.
Hermione had displayed those mementoes around the room, hoping Draco would finally begin to feel more at ease with her friends. After all, if she got her way, he would be socialising with them frequently in the future.
"So," she asked. "What were you working on till so late?"
"The charms essay. I figured I'd make the most of the fact that you've conveniently put nearly all of the reading list at my reach."
"You're welcome! How was patrol today? Any trouble?"
"None with Padma and I. Bones reported that they had caught a couple snogging on the other side, near Gryffindor tower."
"Were they the only ones though?" she muttered sullenly, thinking of the way Padma never agreed to switch her Friday rounds with anybody.
"Sorry?"
"Nothing. I just hope Peeves lies low for a couple more weeks. That would give us more time to take a look at the damage in the secret passageways."
She got a hum of acknowledgement as Malfoy closed his eyes and rested his head back. She backed against the arm of the sofa and brought her knees up. Facing him, she saw welts and red burns on his hands.
"Replacing Pucey as keeper again?" she asked worriedly.
"Yeah. He's been summoned to the Ministry. They finished the review on his family."
"They've moved on to yours again haven't they? Is that what has been bothering you?"
"Not much. Mother has big plans of tossing the place and redecorating anyway," he said with an uncharacteristic snort, pushing back the lock of hair that always fell on his forehead. "Why do you think I'm bothered?"
"Maybe because you've barely interacted with me lately."
The primly disapproving tone amused and confused Draco both at once. Merlin pants, the little lioness had been cooking a nice stew in her head by the sound of it.
Cracking open an eye, he saw her frown at him, cup of tea forgotten on the coffee table. Slytherin to the core, he couldn't stop himself from making her squirm.
"Haven't I?"
"No you haven't. You've been distant, speaking to me only if you had Head matters to deal with. And Godric knows your rounds have become increasingly longer these days. Is it Padma then?"
Now thoroughly enjoying this moment, Draco sat up. Apparently, he'd been wrong on all accounts.
Potter and Weasley must not have said anything for she had brushed over the auror business quite quickly. 'Did he dare get his hopes up though,' he wondered.
He had respected and admired Hermione long before they made their way back to Hogwarts. How couldn't he when she was one of the main reasons that saved him from falling prey to his father's prejudiced teachings. But the feelings hadn't stopped growing the more he got to know her. He'd wanted to take time to do it properly; become someone worthy, ask her out, date her and woo her and never let a single scratch get onto her under his eyes ever again.
But it seemed the road wasn't so long after all if jealously was indeed what was written on her face.
"Tell me, are you Gryffindorks always so straight-forward with your feelings?"
"Malfoy, please. I am only trying to understand the matters as they are."
"And rue the day someone stops you from being a know-it-all,"he teased her, very much enjoying the flush rising on her neck. "No, I couldn't care less about Patil, Granger."
"Well then. It has to be a problem with me. Though I cannot think of any slight I may have caused you," she replied promptly, shifting around, playing with that woolly jumper of hers.
"For one, that jumper is slighting me. Why do you insist on wearing shapeless clothing in hideous colours all the time? And secondly, your cat has a problem with me and I would sleep better if I knew it would not attack me in the middle of the night."
"My sense of style has nothing to do with your attitude. And for the record, Crooks spends more time with you than me anyway…"
"That's because you always have people over for one reason or another and disturb the poor cat," he replied hotly, enjoying the volley of arguments with a mischievous grin on his face.
They may have just become friends now but years of tormenting her had nonetheless imparted as much knowledge to him about the woman she'd become. Some of her habits he knew like the back of his hands and he knew what strings to pull to distract her from her thoughts.
'Fierce little Gryffindor would always defend her friends,' and he smirked as she indeed launched into a passionate tirade about healthy friendly relationships.