AN: In the spirit of the holiday season, I have been able to update! This chapter was heavy to write, but it does bring some closure. I apologise for the delay, but here it is, finally. :p
Malfoy must've sensed Hermione's unwillingness to depart from the classroom. "Daphne won't cause any trouble," he said impatiently.
His tone prompted her to stand from her chair and turn to face him. "What did you do?" Hermione asked accusingly. Again, she was struck by the same feeling she had experienced earlier in the hall – something was definitely different about him.
"Nothing," Malfoy defended from behind his desk.
She eyed him with distrust, and yet, her once visible disdain was hardly present. "Nothing?"
"Yes, Granger. Nothing." How could such a temperament amount to nothing? He was about as close to committing an unforgivable as she had seen him.
She was tiring of having to demystify his elusive statements. "How is that?" she tested.
The Slytherin's complacent grin was unforgiving. "Let's just say, Daphne has vested interest in keeping certain things from reaching her father's ear."
Hermione let out a light snort in amusement. "Somehow, I doubt that will stall her intentions."
Malfoy smirked. "Well you should think twice about your doubts, Granger."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?" she aksed.
He leant forward. "What it means, Granger, is that you don't have to worry about her ruining your reputation when she has her own to consider." He stood up dismissively and grabbed his books.
Hermione was not having it.
"Where do you think you're going?" She stood up to face him. "We're not done here."
"I have another class to get to, Granger. You of all people would appreciate that," he said, almost playfully, slipping his books under his arm. He gave her an expectant look, which seemed to falter under her intense gaze.
She really just wanted to scream at him – for being so bloody reasonable in his request.
"Fine."
His left brow arched.
"Fine?"
"Yes. Fine!"
She caught the mild disbelief in his face as he regarded her with apparent confusion before speaking.
"Okay," he said with a conclusive drawl.
She nodded, a surprising calmness washing over her, almost as if... as if accommodating his wish was pleasing to her.
The door clicked shut and Hermione was left standing alone in the classroom bemused by her behaviour.
"What was that about?" a voice demanded from behind as she waited for the staircase to the head digs to arrive. Hermione had suffered through a long day of heavy classes, lingering bewilderment and constant potion taking that was scheduled at the most inconvenient times.
It was Malfoy. She gave him a tired shrug, unable to make sense of what he was saying. The staircase locked into place and she began ascending the steps toward the head digs.
Malfoy followed.
"I imagine you should be heading south toward the dungeons instead, Malfoy," she said blandly.
"Not quite."
She stopped and turned to face the ex-Head boy standing a few steps below her.
"Can you just stop with the vague statements?"
"You have a bit of explaining to do yourself," he said matter-of-factly.
"About what?"
"Why didn't you hex Daphne for calling you a mud-? You know what I mean."
"Why didn't you? You're the one she accused of sleeping with one."
"I have slept with one," he said stiffly.
"And I'm a mudblood," she replied bitterly. She turned and ran up the steps, reaching the landing.
"That wasn't the point!" he said, finally catching up to her.
She ignored him.
"Granger, stop!"
She did.
"Turn around."
She did.
"You should go to Madam Pomfrey." His expression was uncharacteristically sombre.
"No."
"Granger, go to Madam Pomfrey!"
"OK."
Her eyes widened as she made sense of his game.
He stared back with irate satisfaction. "You catch my drift, Granger?"
She shot him a baleful glare, and yet, she could not challenge him, but she could certainly make light of the absurdity of it all. "I suppose you should escort me, then, if you think so."
Hermione could hear him muttering under his breath as he walked with her to the Infirmary, clearly unimpressed. She wanted to yell at the top of her lungs for feeling like a pathetic lackey, taking orders from none other than Draco Malfoy, and so damn willingly.
"Hermione, dear, everything ok? Mr. Malfoy, I suggest your return to your House dormitory immediately."
"I told her to come here."
The school Healer eyed him with apparent sternness and clicked her tongue in distrust. "Hmmm," she dismissed, leading Hermione to one of the beds.
Hermione could see that Madam Pomfrey thought it some poor attempt at a joke.
Malfoy followed.
"Have you been taking the potion as required?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
Hermione nodded. "It has been a little inconvenient, but I haven't missed a dose."
"Well, inconvenience is a small price to pay for magic."
Hermione withheld from rolling her eyes and avoided looking at Malfoy.
Madam Pomfrey hadn't clued on that he was still hanging about. "Have you kept a close eye for any anomalies in your magic?"
"Not that I can tell, Madam Pomfrey."
"Anything unusual at all?"
Hermione was about to shake her head.
"She is lying."
Madam Pomfrey almost jumped out of skin. "Mr. Malfoy! What are you still doing here?"
Hermione could see him withholding a smirk as his lips twitched with amusement. "I told her to come here."
The school Healer huffed with irritation. "Please return to your room, I don't want to have to call upon Professor Snape."
"Professor Snape should be here anyway," he retorted. The bloody git did not have a single ounce of respect for authority.
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and turned to Hermione. "Very well, it would probably be a good idea to have the Professor present. I will be back shortly." She shuffled away, leaving Hermione seated alone on a hospital bed with Malfoy standing mere feet away.
"You need to speak up, Granger. Obviously, you're not yourself, but something else is wrong."
"I'm fine."
"No. You're not."
"Fine, I'm not!" She glared at him, her frustration obvious. Normally, she would have denied it until her face went blue. Enough was enough.
"I haven't been fine for several months, in case you hadn't noticed. What's your secret, Malfoy? How on earth have you been able to control yourself? If I recall correctly, you're the addict who couldn't get me out of his head! Perhaps you just played me for a fool." Her raised voice echoed around the vaulted space.
Hermione slid off the bed.
"Where do you think you're going?" he bit out.
"I've had enough of this." Why did he care anyway? The Malfoy she knew should be taking advantage of her acquiescing behaviour in the most humiliating of ways. She moved to walk past him toward the door, but instead found herself shocked by an electrifying restraint as a hand circled around her arm and pulled her back.
"Wha-"
She was flush against him, winded, as she stared into his piercing slate eyes.
"Cat and mouse has to stop," he breathed.
That did it. She could feel her inner rage float to the surface. "You're the one who told me to give you two days space," she ground out. "If it were up to me, we'd be working on the damn counter curse already!"
"I suppose that means you have all the answers on how to proceed then?"
She pursed her lips. "...Well...I have a fair idea!" Snape had confirmed it, after all.
"You have NO fucking idea, Granger." Despite his apparent belligerence, she could hear the strain in his voice.
Hermione brought her hands against his chest, shoving against his hard form.
He almost lost his balance from the suddenness of her movement. "What the hell are you playing at?" he admonished.
"Don't tell me what to do!" She realised it was a pathetic statement.
He was silent, watching her with open curiosity as he straightened himself. "Haven't you noticed, Granger, I'm the only one who can tell you what to do?"
She didn't care for the way he was directing all his questions to her – he needed to provide some of the answers, after all. She gave a wry smile. "So, why aren't you taking advantage of that little fact instead of demanding I check myself into the Infirmary? Why are you even here, Malfoy?" She wanted to taunt him for his condescending attitude. "It's almost as if you care!"
She watched the Slytherin slowly draw in a heavy breath.
Her eyes widened. Of all the things she wanted, no needed, answers to, that wasn't one of them.
"Right," she murmured, looking away.
Now it was just plain awkward.
"Granger –"
The doors opened, and Hermione had never been so thankful to see Professor Snape. He stopped when he spotted Malfoy.
"I confess, I thought Madam Pomfrey had been muddled by potion fumes when she told me you were here, Mr. Malfoy. I see now that I was quite mistaken."
"Well I thought it rather strange that Granger is not her usual defiant self and took the initiative to consider it more than mere convenience that she is now agreeing with me because I am no longer the Head boy."
"How touching," Snape dismissed before turning to Hermione.
She could not believe he had just said that! Her eyes narrowed at him in disdain before she turned her attention to the Professor.
"Miss Granger, have you been taking the potion as required."
"I've-"
"She's already gone through this with Pomfrey!"
Hermione and Professor Snape stared at Malfoy, a hint of mirth in both their expressions; both for different reasons. "I was speaking to Miss Granger."
Malfoy had the audacity to growl with impatience.
The Professor glanced back at Hermione, waiting for an answer. She was blatently busy trying to fight back the laughter that was building in her throat. Her lips twitched as she gave a delayed nod to compensate.
Professor Snape was not impressed. "Miss Granger, please control yourself," he said. That did it, Hermione burst out laughing, her eyes tearing up as she clutched her middle. It was quite a sight to behold, not to mention the reactions of the onlookers – one startled Professor who barely reacted to anything, and one fuming Slytherin.
"Miss Granger!"
Stomach muscles clenched as she rolled out another barrel of laughs.
"Granger, stop that!" Malfoy barked.
Hermione looked over at him and immediately felt overcome with indescribable shame, her laughs dying out instantly. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry," she said meekly, wiping her eyes.
The Professor stood straight and stiff as he took in the scene in front of him. Hermione gave him a weary glance, but avoided his scrutinizing gaze.
"Just how long have you two been experiencing unusual reactions to each other?" he asked forcefully.
Hermione gulped.
Malfoy leant against the end of a nearby bed, crossing his arms in disinterest.
"I will not ask again. Miss Granger, I remind you of the severity of your case."
"I am not sure what you mean by reactions, Professor," she said carefully. Hermione chanced a glance at Malfoy. He was watching her with a heated expression – one that demanded her to reply in his favour. Despite his nonchalant facade, he was very much interested in what she had to say.
The Professor narrowed his eyes, showing his unwillingness to elaborate.
"Just today," she lied through her teeth. She could feel Snape's intense scrutiny – one that she would never grow comfortable with given his frustrating ability to just know when she was not being honest. Of course he knew she was being compromised by Malfoy's presence. Hermione paled at the thought of being questioned further by Snape.
"Mr. Malfoy, will you please leave the room. I need to speak with Miss Granger in private."
Malfoy stood tall. "I'm the one who brought her here. I am aware of what's wrong with her."
Hermione was beginning to find his behaviour strange. It was almost...possessive.
Snape smirked.
"Thank you for enlightening me. I am sure Miss Gragner appreciates the sentiment. Now, get out."
"If I leave, Granger leaves. As you know, she does what I request."
"This is no time for games!" Snape was losing his patience.
"Then I stay."
Hermione's mouth slackened in shock. She was not the only one with an expression of bewilderment. Madame Pomfrey, who had remind silent during the whole discourse made her presence known with an exclaimed inhale of breath.
A sinister smile graced the Professor's face. And yet, displeasure was still rooted in his expression.
"Well, well. It appears your bond has matured," the Professor said finally. Hermione instantly felt the rise of heat across her neck and up toward her cheeks as she looked down at her hands, mortified. Her humiliation escalated by the realisation that her reaction implied a certain interpretation to Snape's observation – whether or not he had intended it in that way.
Malfoy cleared his throat. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It seems I underestimated things," Snape said, vaguely. "Madame Pomfrey, bring the Veritaserum."
"What?" Both Hermione and Malfoy cried in unison.
Madame Pomfrey seemed caught between what she had heard, and whether she had just imagined it.
Malfoy stepped forward, all tense. "I don't see how that will help, Professor!"
"Of course you don't!" he spat. "This is beyond your comprehension."
Hermione stared back, mouth slightly open at the now angry Professor, unable to process his sudden emotionally laced outburst. He diverted his attention to her – she was almost winded by his graveness.
"Professor, we cannot...you cannot administer Veritaserum without Ministry approval," Hermione said, trying to control the budding fear of induced verbal spilling of the past few months of her very chaotic life.
The look Snape sent her said it all – how could she suggest such a thing when they had been tampering with substances that were on the illegal potions register?
"Professor I must insist. This is not necessary. We are working to a solution."
"No, you are playing games, Draco," the Professor corrected. It was the first instance that he had used his godson's first name.
Hermione felt hopeless. This was not the direction she had anticipated. Why was everyone suddenly so involved in her life? The thought weighed down on her; she felt dizzy and her eardrums throbbed from the escalating pressure in her head. She felt her legs give way, as her eyes lost focus, and she could just make out Malfoy's and Snape's forms coming toward her as her eyelids were pulled down by an invisible lead weight.
"Granger-"
He had no time to demand she wake up.
"This is absurd - "
"This is the counter curse, Draco."
"It won't work!"
Hermione stirred in her sleep, the voices of people talking around her became more coherent as she regained consciousness. She groaned, realising that she was still in the Infirmary – a pathetic eye sore at the mercy of Slytherins.
Professor Snape and Malfoy were in deep conversation with Madame Pomfrey scurrying about like she was working to a deadline.
Snape caught Hermione's gaze as he sensed her movement. "Enough," he said to Malfoy and walked over to the bed. "Miss Granger, good for you to join us. Madame Pomfrey, bring the potion."
Hermione sat up on the bed; she had been placed on the top of the covers, fully clothed, and felt like she had been asleep for hours. What potion? She was not about to submit to a dose of Veritaserum. "No!" she demanded. "I am not taking it." She looked at Malfoy, expecting him to intervene with his innate knack for defying orders.
Instead, he sent her a wavering glance as he walked to the corner of the room and sat down on a visitor's chair as far away from her as possible. It was as if he wanted no part of it, or, that he had submitted to whatever Snape's request had been.
"What's wrong with you?" she mouthed at him, as the Professor had turned away to mutter something to the school Healer as he handed him a vial.
He shook his head dismissively, running his fingers though his hair in agitation. He motioned to say something but was interrupted by the Professor.
"Mr. Malfoy, you need to leave in case there are any side effects."
"What side effects?" Hermione was confused – the only side effect that Veritaserum instilled was a very bad case of verbal diarrhoea. "Why should Verit-"
"It is not Veritaserum, dear," Madame Pomfrey cut in.
"Can someone please tell me what is going on?" Her wavering voice evidenced her rising panic. She shuffled to move off the bed, but Madame Pomfrey came forward, resting her hand on Hermione's shoulder reassuringly.
"Miss Granger, this is the counter potion." Snape was holding a vial of burgundy liquid, it looked almost like...
Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at Malfoy, disbelieving that he would have been talked into it so easily.
"Don't be so surprised, Granger, I want nothing to do with you," he bit out, abruptly standing up and walking out of the room, the double doors slamming shut behind him.
She supposed she shouldn't have expected any better given his...sacrifice. She wanted to laugh. "But, Professor, h-how?"
"It was all you Miss Granger. I was merely the voice of reason." He smirked.
She really was growing sick of second guessing every damn detail. Hermione pursed her lips, trying to suppress her urge to interrogate her superiors.
It wasn't working.
"How could I have helped with anything when all I do is end up here after fainting all the bloody time?" she nearly shouted. "I am feeling rather inferior at the moment."
"Oh! Miss Granger, Don't say such a thing!" Madame Pomfrey looked ready to faint herself.
"Compose yourself," Snape warned. "Everything has a purpose. I would appreciate if you stop wasting my time with your petty emotional outbursts. Use your brain, Miss Granger - you've make a point of making it know you have one."
"I do not make it a point-" she started, before trailing off with realisation. "Oh, I see."
Snape looked unimpressed. "Madame Pomfrey, I will take it from here, you may attend to other matters," he said, while still concentrating on Hermione.
"Very well, you know where to find me," she surmised.
"Indeed," he dismissed.
Hermione leaned against the pillow in slackened disbelief. She was not expecting for things to end so...easily.
"Something I learnt a long time ago - never leave anything up to students. They waste time." He lifted the stopper off the vial in his hand. "I have been preparing this since your last visit here, Miss Granger. Despite my hints to you, Mr. Malfoy was always going to be problem. It would have taken a lot more effort had I not taken matters into my own hands."
"You wanted me to faint?"
"Exactly."
"And my behaviour toward Malfoy's demands?"
"Expected."
"How?"
"My healing potion could only inhibit existing reactions. A master-servant effect of the improperly brewed etat d'esprit you consumed seems to have come to fruition. I did not expect it to that degree, given your magical powers remain intact, but, as I've said, there are too many variables to consider." He handed her the potion.
Hermione took it carefully. She could now see the activity within the vial – it circled in an anti-clockwise motion, streaks of deep purple swirling ominously through the crimson substance.
"It is a purifying potion – well, a version of it – and, as you rightly guessed, it contains the young Malfoy's blood."
"How much of it?" Hermione asked, lifting the potion up toward to the light. It only emphasised its saturated thickness.
"Three willing drops of it."
"How did you know he would give it?" she scrutinised.
"You don't just have a habit of answering questions, do you Miss Granger?" he replied, growing tired of her delay in drinking it.
"I appreciate you have saved me considerable trouble, but it would be comforting to know how you managed it. I mean, how did you even know that Malfoy would bring me here?"
"I didn't. I had not expected the opportunity to come so quickly, I admit. I just took advantage of it – who knew how long I would have to wait for the next chance to scare it out of him." He seemed almost amused by the fact. "That, and the historical fact that half the Muggleborn women who were reduced to a state of Veritas Civitas ended up as the unspoken mistresses of many Society men. Draco Malfoy knows his obligations to his family – that was enough to coax him to comply."
Hermione inhaled in shock. She could feel her face heating up once againg, from the roots of her hair all the way down to her neck. Served her right for asking questions – it only confirmed the extent of what Snape knew. She looked away, trying to contain herself. "Does this mean I will be completely neutralised?" she asked, staring at the potion once again. No more Malfoy, no more fearing whether her emotions were real or driven by the effects of a potion, despite her full awareness of her actions. Her thoughts drifted to Malfoy - would the veil that clouded her judgement be lifted to leave her with memories that would drive her to hate herself? It almost brought fear to her eyes.
"Yes. Unless, of course, Malfoy has consumed some other concoction of which we aren't aware." The Professor smirked as Hermione glanced up at him in horror. 'What a timing for jokes', she thought wryly.
She brought the vial to her lips and tilted it toward her open mouth, letting the thick, silky, cool liquid glide down her tongue.
She swallowed.
There you have it. But, as one door closes, does another open? How does it all fare when Hermione goes back to her 'normal' life?