Chapter 9: Warmth

The next day, I promised myself I would just forget about the previous night's events and focus purely on school. I noticed I was slipping a bit in my academics and my main suspicion was because I was just spending too much time worrying about Malfoy.

And why should I?

Yes, I did feel sorry for him for losing his mother, but it was not in my place to be a source of comfort for him. That was reserved for those close to him, like his family and friends.

And so I decided to go about my life, avoiding him as much as possible.

It's better that way, for him and me.

Besides, I only started thinking about him in the first place because I was suspicious that he was up to no good. But now I knew for sure that that was not the case, and that Malfoy was not really involved in any Dark activities. I should have been happy that now I didn't have to waste my time pondering over his every action.

So why did I feel disappointed that I would no longer have to bother about him?

Still, I blocked out all thoughts related to the Slytherin and tried my best to focus during Divinations class. However, I could not help but steal a glance at the platinum-blonde-haired boy on the other side of the classroom. I gasped slightly when I realized that he had been observing me, and now he was looking right at me. I wanted to turn away and just pretend that I didn't see him, but I couldn't bring myself to break my gaze, which was locked with his.

He continued looking at me with the same coldness, but I managed to see a glimpse of confusion in his storm-grey eyes. Finally, he turned his head back to Professor Trelawney as if nothing had happened at all.

I too averted my gaze to the floor for a second before looking back up at the eccentric teacher.

And that was the last time I saw those eyes that day.

Draco's POV

I yawned as I walked into the Head's Common Room. It was around midnight and I had just returned from St. Mungos Hospital.

Actually, I had finished whatever was required in the Hospital earlier. I just spent the next 3 hours wondering around aimlessly, thinking about my mother.

She was the only source of warmth and love I ever received in my life. Only she taught me what it was like to care for someone else. My father, though I respected him a lot, knew not a thing about love and compassion. In fact he only stood for all things opposite that.

For weeks my mother was sick.

For weeks I had to see her lying in that hospital bed, pale and weak.

And in the end, she was gone.

Just like that.

That letter literally shook my world.

I could not believe I had lost her.

Who was going to love me now?

Who was going to be there for me?

My father?

He was in Azkaban.

My so-called friends?

They could care less about her or me. They only kept pestering me about it because they knew I had to be in a good state, emotionally, to be able to carry out the mission. Otherwise I would fail and they would also have to bear the consequences. They didn't care about what all I was actually going through.

I had nobody left in the world.

As that thought entered my mind, I noticed something on the couch, curled up with a book in its lap.

Granger.

I approached her quietly as she slept on the couch. Her hair was spread out all over a pillow she used to rest her head. It was hard to believe that hair was once so bushy and thick. Now it was lustrous and glossy, cascading out into waves. In the glow of the fire, I noticed how her complexion was so milky-white, but at the same time…warm. It looked so flawless and soft, I had to resist the temptation to run a finger over her cheek. Her eyelashes were rather long, but dainty as they were splayed demurely against the top of her cheek bones. I was suddenly overcome with a need to have her open her eyes and reveal those brown depths in them.

The night before, when I looked up into her eyes, I felt this fire surge through me. It was like a burn, but at the same time it was gentle and careful. Those chocolate-brown orbs held so much warmth and depth that I could have drowned myself in them. A wave of calmness overcame me, and for 2 split seconds everything felt right in the world. I had only encountered such warmth before from one person. And reality struck me as I realized that person was gone.

That was when I broke again.

I was too overwhelmed in my emotions to think about what I was doing. All I knew was that I needed that warmth more than ever, and I was getting it, from her.

I continued to gaze at the Gryffindor asleep in front of me. It confused me to no end, how she could hold so much care and concern in those eyes of hers.

How she radiated so much warmth.

What confused me even more was how perfect her warmth was for me. It was like a medicine which cured me of all the coldness inside.

As all these thoughts raced through my brain, another one struck me like lightning.

This is Hermione Granger.

The Gryffindor Princess.

The best friend of Harry Potter.

The know-it-all bookworm over-achiever.

The Mudblood.

I stepped back a step as I realized how I was harboring such thoughts about Mudblood Granger.

What was wrong with me?

I was Draco Malfoy!

Did I just admit all those things about a Mudblood?

I shook my head as I tried to erase all those warm sentiments surrounding her in my brain.

No matter what, I could never think like that about a Mudblood.

I was about to walk away when I noticed her shaking violently.

Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were squeezed tightly as her whole body became tense and curled up tighter.

She was shivering…

Something overcame me as I pulled off my cloak and draped it over her, and she immediately stopped shuddering. As I watched her slip back into her peaceful, serene sleep, those same feelings began surfacing.

I shook my head again and in two strides disappeared into my room, closing the door behind me so as to not have to see her any longer.

Oh Draco, I thought to myself, you are going completely mental.