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Chapter 7::
Logic in her Eyes

Hermione tried to open her eyes, but the pain in her head was so intense she had to close them again. Every part of her body felt as if it had been run over by a truck and she couldn't remember why. Opening her eyes again, she blinked repeatedly until the blurriness was gone; leaving only the dull ache at the front of her head. She knew where she was, finally. The scene before her was easily identified as the Hospital Wing. No other place would have those curtains.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Hermione spotted Madam Pomphrey at the foot of her bed. The witch looked strung out and worried. In her hand, there was a bright blue potion, "Here take this, dear. It'll make you feel better."

Rolling to the side, she allowed the mediwitch to put the potion up to her lips, where she swallowed the odd tasting liquid immediately. As she felt the cool of the potion hit her stomach, her headache started to fade away. "How did I get here?" Her voice was raw from lack of use.

The mediwitch smiled, "Mr. Malfoy brought you here after you collapsed. Bloody well wouldn't leave until I told him I'd send for him the moment you awoke."

Hermione sat up slowly, as her head screamed in protest. When she was successful leaving against the head railing, she frowned and tried to remember everything. It came back slowly; almost as if someone set her mind on slow motion. She suddenly remembered the news of Ginny and Harry's secret engagement, and then the pain of knowing she wouldn't be able to be the Maid of Honor like had promised she would. But, she still couldn't remember where Malfoy came in all of this. All she could acknowledge was that she had needed air and ran outside—

Oh, right. She did remember. He had seen her at her worst; sobbing for the life she was losing. He had tried to get her to the hospital wing because of her hands. Looking down, she saw the skin of her fingers and fists bandaged up. She could faintly recall punching and tearing at the ground in anger. Sighing, she didn't know how she was going to be able to explain her actions to Draco Malfoy.

"Dear?" Pomphrey asked, sitting in the chair beside her bed, "Would you please tell me what happened? Why were your hands cut up so badly?"

Hermione glanced at Pomphrey before looking back down at her hands. She might as well tell her; the condensed version at least. "I was just having an emotional breakdown. I got to thinking about everything I would have to miss once I was gone and I just… lost it. Malfoy caught me outside; crying and tearing at the ground in anger."

Nodding, Pomphrey asked, "Yes, he did say you were nearly hysterical when he found you."

A snort came out of Hermione's nose at the word. "Sure. Hysterical." A sudden thought occurred to her, "Have any of my friends come to see me yet?"

Pomphrey smiled softly, "Yes, they have. Since you've been unconscious for two days, they wanted to be sure you were ok. Mr. Malfoy stopped by about six times, he did. His questions were starting to get on my nerves, they were."

That confused Hermione a bit. Sure, Draco Malfoy had been interested about her before, but the bloke hasn't even spoken to her in a month. Why, then, was he so worried about her?

"I found it quite odd that he would be the one to bring you here, dear." The older witch continued. "Since when did he become a friend of yours?"

Hermione wasn't sure how she was to respond to that. "Well, I wouldn't call him my friend exactly."

"Oh?"

"No, he's more of an acquaintance. We talk from time to time, I suppose you could say." If you could even call what they did talking.

Madam Pomphrey nodded. "I will admit that when I was told he was coming back to Hogwarts, I had my doubts. After all, the ministry had no right forcing us to let him back in as punishment. Though, I must say, that when he brought you in he was beyond concerned. You should've seen him, Miss Granger. I've never seen that young man so worried in all the years I've known him."

"Really?" How odd.

"Yes, Miss Granger. He almost wouldn't leave your side."

"What did you tell him was wrong with me?" She really hoped it was something good and believable.

Poppy smiled, "I can tell a pretty decent fib, Miss Granger. I told him what I told Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley; that your mind was just overloaded and that it was protecting itself."

Hermione nodded and visibly relaxed. It would have been hard trying to think of a cover story. Now, it seemed, she wouldn't have to. "Did they believe you?"

Pomphrey waved off her concern. "Of course they did, dear. What reason would they have to not believe me?"

Nodding her head, Hermione couldn't help but think that it was true. Madam Pomphrey was always caring and honest. To even accuse her of lying would be almost blasphemous! Having her lie for her was almost enough to make her regret asking the older witch for her help.

"Alright, thank you, Madam Pomphrey. For everything." Her sincerity leaked through her voice.

Poppy patted her shoulder and smiled. "Not a problem. But, I do have a question to ask you, if that's all right."

"Of course." Her reply was automatic.

"Has this happened before? You're blackouts?" Poppy seemed to genuinely be curious.

"Yes, they have; a couple of times, actually." Her mind flickered back to the embarrassing times she collapsed in public places with her parents.

Poppy leaned forward. "Why do they happen, exactly?"

"I'm not sure." Hermione stated, saying what the doctors had told her parents. "The doctors thought that it could be because my body is reacting to the cancer cells."

"I see." Standing up, Pomphrey crossed the room and pulled a couple of vials from her desk. "And do you often get sick, Miss Granger?"

"Uh," Hermione frowned, confused. "Not really, Ma'am. I have a hard time keeping down my food during lunch or dinner, but my body seems to be fighting off illnesses quite well."

Poppy nodded and brought the vials back to Hermione, "Yes, that's good. CML allows your immune system to still function partially. If you haven't been getting sick, then you are still in stage 1."

Hermione watched curiously as Pomphrey lined up the 8 light green vials on the stand next to her bed. "That's what I've been told. But, Madam Pomphrey, may I ask what you are doing?"

Shocked slightly out of her thoughts, it took the mediwitch a moment to get her thoughts together. "Well, Miss Granger, these are vials that hold the same potion."

"Yes, I see that, Ma'am." What was this about? "Those aren't for me, I take it. I told you I already stopped responding to treatments, so they won't be of any help."

"Oh, I know that, dear." She pulled a pad of parchment and a quill out of her robes and started to write on it rapidly.

"So, what are those for?"

Tearing off the paper, she handed it to Hermione and started to explain. "Well, while you were unconscious, dear, I started to brew a potion that I wanted you to start taking. It won't have any effect on your cancer, unfortunately, but they will help."

Hermione read the slip of paper, which held directions of when to take each vial, and looked back up at Pomphrey, "With what?"

"Since leukemia primarily attacks the immune system and leaves it open to other illnesses, this potion will prevent any foreign bacteria from entering your body." Poppy smiled at the girl.

Hermione smiled slightly, "Which may help me live a little longer."

Madam Pomphrey smiled back sadly, "Indeed."

Hermione's relief was so intense she almost felt the need to hug her. Almost. "So, when can I leave, Ma'am?"

Pomphrey thought for a moment. "I'd say tomorrow. It's around noon right now, so you should stay in bed today away from stress. You can take the first potion and then tomorrow I'll let you leave."

That made Hermione a little elated, but she was used to staying in the hospital. After all, the majority of the last year saw her in hospital beds. "Ok, I suppose that'll be fine."

"Good. Mr. Potter said he would bring you your assignments to work on after he was done with lunch."

"Oh, good." At least she wouldn't have to worry about falling behind.

"But, I do have to tell you, Miss Granger that Mr. Malfoy will also be here sometime today to check on you. He always is." The way she said it sounded almost forlorn.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and nodded her head. "That's fine, I suppose. He did bring me here after all; it would be rude to not allow him to see I'm doing ok."

Poppy smiled. "Good, that means I won't have to kick him out again. He is very stubborn when he's determined, I'm afraid."

Hermione smiled slightly, "I've noticed that, too."

Draco was a wreck. The annoying feeling eating around his stomach was almost enough to make him go crazy. Ever since he first dropped Hermione Granger off at the Hospital Wing he hadn't been able to get her off of his mind. He had never seen her so broken up like he had two days before and it threw him. It just didn't seem natural for someone so sure of herself to become so unhinged. In fact, he didn't even think it was possible! What could be so major that it made her have an emotional breakdown? Not even the Dark Lord himself could make her break. The witch had been bloody tortured in his home and she still managed to lie and not break.

So, after every meal he would walk up to the infirmary and check on her. He didn't know why he cared so much. In fact, he hadn't even known he could care at all. It was unnerving and he didn't honestly like it. The moment he saw she was awake he would go back to doing what he always did before. He would brood and scared away everyone. Draco Malfoy was only at Hogwarts because he had to be. There was no need to form any type of bond with anyone.

Especially not Hermione Granger.

Pushing open the doors of the infirmary, he half expected Madam Pomphrey to come charging out her office to make him leave. Every time he was here before, she would keep him away from Hermione like a mother hen. What he wanted to know was whether or not she was doing the same with everyone else, or if it was just him.

"Oh, yes. Mr. Malfoy." Pomphrey's voice came from his side, where she standing with her arms crossed.

"Are you going to force me out of here again?" He knew the answer and prepared to turn for the door.

Sighing, she replied. "No. As it turns out I no longer need to."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

Uncrossing her arms, she shut the door behind him. "Because Miss Granger is awake and has every right to decide who gets to see her."

That froze the smirk that was forming on his face, "She's awake?"

"Indeed, she is, Mr. Malfoy."

"Where is she?" He looked towards the curtain that circled the bed she had been occupying the day before.

"Not in bed. Despite my telling her so, she is just this way." She motioned for him to follow her across the wide room.

Right next to the door that led to her office, there was a small balcony he never noticed before. Sitting in a chair with a book and parchment across her lap was Hermione. Draco's breath caught in his throat as he took her in. While the book was open, she was not reading it or even writing on the parchment. No, her eyes were looking out over the lake, where several students were playing happily. Her hair was blowing in the wind, causing the light fragrance of her vanilla shampoo tickle his nose.

'She's so beautiful—wait, what!?!' The sudden thought that crossed his head left him feeling completely shocked. There was no way that thought was his. No, it was just a freak accident!

As he berated himself, he started to notice little things. The bags that were beneath her eyes were slightly more pronounced, now taking on a bluish color. Her hands, one in her lap and the other against her neck, were slightly shaking. Whatever was wrong with her was not from an emotional breakdown. It couldn't be, could it? He never knew breakdowns like that had a physical reaction as well.

"Be nice to her, Mr. Malfoy. I will not allow her to get stressed out." The woman's voice was clipped and assertive. She meant all the words she was saying.

Nodding his head, Draco didn't respond. He was too bewitched by the young witch in the balcony.

"I know you're there, Malfoy. You might as well join me." Hermione said without looking away from the scenery in front of her.

Smirking, he walked forward and leaned against the doorframe. "Your emotions back in check?"

Turning her head in his direction, he noticed her eyes were slightly dark then before. "That they are, Malfoy. Thank you for bringing me to the hospital wing."

At first Draco was confused. Normally she would have just told him to shove it or something. Now, she seemed like she didn't care about his petty comments. In fact, she seemed far away. "So, are you going to tell me what I saw, Granger?"

"I don't know what you mean, Malfoy." Her voice was forced, strained as she turned away from him again.

"Yes, you do." He needed to know. For his own sanity, if anything.

Sighing, she went with what Madam Pomphrey had said. "It's just been a long year, is all. A long year with a lot of emotional rollercoaster's and I just lost it, ok? Sometimes people just lose it, Malfoy, it's not anything too major."

Stepping out of the door frame, he grasped the balcony and looked over the lake and trees. The sun was just starting to set and he could see the different colors shooting across the sky. "I see that even through your emotional crisis you still love sceneries."

She let out a small smile. "Nothing could stop me from loving things like this."

"Because it's just so full of life, correct?" His voice held the smallest hint of sarcasm.

Her smile fell. "Don't mock me, Malfoy. You couldn't even begin to understand the way I see things."

He nodded, "And I'm not contesting otherwise."

The two stood there silent. Hermione was thinking about how much fun it would be to swim in the lake like those first years below them were. Draco was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"I know you're lying, Granger." He hadn't really meant for that to come out. But, now that it did, he didn't really want to take it back.

She turned her wide and innocent eyes on him, "I don't know what you mean."

Draco shook his head, "I'm not going to fall for your innocence, Granger. I'm no fool. I've seen and worked with liars firsthand—"

"You mean the Death Eaters? Your father?" She interrupted him, wanting to change the direction their conversation had taken.

He froze for a moment and cleared his throat. He really didn't like speaking of his past anymore. "Yes, I mean the Death Eaters."

"Yes, you mean the people you were a part of." Her voice was low, dangerous.

"You can't do that, Granger. I know you're just trying to get me to go away." Draco wasn't going to fall in the trap.

"I'm just trying to say what I think about you."

"No, you're not." He took a step in her direction, "You can't lie to me. Out of everyone here, you are the only one who showed that you don't care about my past. You were willing to forgive me on that day on the train."

She didn't say anything. She was just too irked by the way he seemed to be able to see right through her.

"So, don't start trying to anger me or to make me leave you alone. I can see right through you."

"No, you can't." Her voice wavered, unsure.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't be so naïve. I know that an emotional breakdown doesn't make your hands shake and bags appear beneath your eyes. Something else is wrong with you and you don't want anyone to know."

Looking into his eyes, she felt fear. "If you are so sure that I don't want anyone to know, then why do you think I'll tell you?"

Draco kneeled down to eyelevel. "Because you don't like me."

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione couldn't stop the laugh from escaping. "Oh, sure. I'm going to tell you a big secret that I'm apparently keeping from my friends because I don't like you? Where's your logic, Malfoy?"

"My logic is in your eyes, Hermione." He said her name and liked the way it rolled off of his tongue. "You need to tell someone, but it can't be a friend. You need to tell someone who won't get all emotion and cry every two seconds they're in the same room with you. Your friends wouldn't be able to take it. I can."

Hermione was silent for a second, unsure of how to proceed. What he offered sounded so tempting. She could finally talk to someone other than a doctor or mediwitch; someone who wouldn't cry. It's hard having to pretend all of the time, but what if she didn't have to when she was around Draco? He's come face to face with evil and is still standing. Maybe he could take a dying classmate.

Draco saw the indecision in her eyes and kept willing her to tell him. He was so confused and desperately needed to know. He was going mad without knowing.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was small.

"Yes, Granger?" He asked with his hands on the arms of her chair.

She swallowed really hard, "I would like you to leave now."

At first he was frozen, unsure if she was serious. When he finally realized she was, he stood up and looked down at her. "I'm going to find out."

"There's nothing for you to find out." Hermione stared him in the eye, unwavering.

He smirked, "Whatever you say, Granger."

Hermione watched him walk away and her heart gave a little twitch. She wanted to tell him; oh, boy, did she ever. But, to what purpose? It wasn't like he really cared; he just didn't like not knowing. If she really wanted to tell anyone, it would be her friends' first—not some ex-death eater who's fascinated by her words of wisdom.