The Two Musicians

Chapter 2: Confusion

By Silver Chessboards

The bed she was lying in was soft and cool against her skin. She could smell flowers nearby, probably daffodils, one of her favourite flowers. She could sense that she was in an unfamiliar bed but she was reluctant to open her eyes. A soft breeze fanned her face as she turned in her bed but winced as a jolt of pain shot up her leg. Her eyes flew open and she then saw the bandage around her foot. She was in the hospital wing and it seemed to be morning by the way the sunlight entered the room. She sat up in bed, looking around. The hospital wing was always the same, white, white and more white. She then laid back in her bed, careful not to move her injured foot. She frowned.

She couldn't recall how she had gotten to the hospital wing or when she had injured her foot. Her memory seemed incredibly vague to her as she had just awoken.

Then she remembered everything. Ron cheating on her with Lavender and her running down an empty corridor and Malfoy passing her his handkerchief. She grimaced as she thought of Ron and Lavender. Then she thought of Malfoy, why had he given her a handkerchief? He hated her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and then looked to her foot, she had probably injured it when she had been running. She sighed, looking to the nightstand beside her.

There was a glass vase of daffodils and a neat stack consisting of three books. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the books and she reached out to take one from the top, opening it. She smiled as she recognised the volume, it was Hogwarts, a History. She flipped it open and started reading.

It wasn't long before she had her nose buried among the pages. Just then, Madam Pomfrey came along. She held a bottle which she opened and poured some of it's contents into a glass.

"Good morning, miss Granger. Nasty injury you've got there but nothing I can't fix," she said as she handed her the glass.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she gulped down the concoction, making a face at the unpleasant taste.

"Do you know how I got here?" Hermione asked, passing the glass back to Madam Pomfrey who took it.

"Oh, Mister Malfoy carried you here."

"He carried me?" she asked in disbelief. "In his arms?"

"Of course in his arms, don't be silly dear," she said before hurrying off.

Hermione frowned as she lay back in her bed, mulling over her thoughts. Why had Ron cheated on her? How long had he been with Lavender behind her back? Would she miss out on a lot of school work? When could she be discharged from the Hospital Wing?

But there was only one question she really wanted to know the answer to.

Why had Malfoy helped her?

In another part of the castle, Draco was asking himself the same question as he turned in his bed.

Why had he helped her?

He didn't even like her. And plus, she was a muggle born. But he couldn't help but feel sorry for her when he saw her sobbing. That evening after returning to the Slytherin Common rooms he had heard rumours that Weasley had cheated on her, with Lavender Brown. He had raised an eyebrow at this and shook his head. He despised people who were disloyal in relationships. Even he had never cheated on Pansy, not once. It was her who had decided that she wanted to break up with him for she had found another she fancied. A Ravenclaw, Anthony Goldstein if he was correct. He remembered shrugging it off for he and Pansy were better off just being friends.

He turned in bed again, the duvet soft against his skin. He thought of the piece of parchment he had found on the marble floor the previous day. He would have to return it to Granger soon, he just didn't know how. Sitting up in bed, he stretched his arms above him, his muscles flexing. He then got out of bed, deciding that it would be best to get dressed for breakfast.

Harry had visited her in the morning with a grim and solemn face. He had been furious that Ron had cheated on her and had reassured her that he was on her side. He had brought her a few books to read and told her he would pop in later with homework and whatnot. Ginny had visited not long after Harry left. She, as well, had been in hysterics. She had given Ron a good earful earlier that morning. Hermione had smiled and said it was alright whilst Ginny had continued her rant.

It seemed that her friends were angry on her behalf. But that didn't mean that she wasn't angry either. She was mad, obviously, and didn't intend to forgive Ron any time soon. The brunette then thought of her uncompleted piece. Sure she was having trouble writing it but she'd complete it eventually. Her hands were already itching to get her violin and play to her hearts content. Madam Pomfrey had said that she would be released from the Hospital wing in a bit, after another dose of potion.

Just then, the older lady came in, sliding the curtains away. She had a different bottle in her hand half filled with a brown concoction. Removing the cork, she poured some of it into a glass and handed it to Hermione.

"Drink up, dear. Your foot is all well now, just be careful not to injure it again." She said in a motherly tone. Hermione downed the potion, making a face at the taste. Finishing it, she passed it back to the nurse.

"Now, here are your clothes. Change quickly and off you go," Madam Pomfrey shoved a bundle of clothes into her hands and smiled at her before hurrying away.

It was the clothes she had been wearing the previous day, her red plaid shirt and jeans except that they had been washed and folded up neatly. After changing, she walked out of the Hospital wing.

It was mid afternoon and classes were going on but she didn't feel like attending which was unlike her. All she felt like doing was playing her violin. She then remembered her incompleted composition. She could recall placing it into her pocket the day before. She slipped her hands into her pockets but found nothing there.

Her eyes widened. Where could it possibly be? Panic took over her senses, she had spent ages working on it. It simply wouldn't do to lose it. She then thought of the last place she had visited before blacking out.

The deserted corridor on the sixth floor.

She broke into a run.

When she arrived, she was out of breath. The corridor looked the same as it did the day before and there wasn't any piece of parchment there at all. She frowned, turning to leave. Just as she did, she heard the sound of a door slamming behind her. She didn't turn back to see who it was for she already knew.

"Granger," a voice drawled, she turned to see him making his way towards her.

"Malfoy." She replied, her eyes following his every move. He came to a stop right in front of her, putting reasonable space between them.

"Care to tell me why you are here, especially out of class?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I could ask you the same question, I was just looking for something I misplaced, not that it is any of your concern."

"You mean this?" he said, retrieving a piece of parchment from his pocket.

It was her composition.

"H-how?" she said as he passed it to her. She couldn't help but feel a tingle as their fingers brushed against each other.

"I found it on the ground, you probably dropped it," he said, turning to leave. He hadn't taken more than a few steps before she said something.

"Wait."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Why did you help me yesterday?"

"I couldn't just leave you there to bleed, could I?"

Thanks for reading. Leave a review and all that jazz :)

- Silver Chessboards