The Two Musicians

Chapter 7: Drowning

By Silver Chessboards

Author's Note

I feel so bad for taking a month to update. I'm hopeless when I get Writer's Block and I had to rewrite this chapter several times until I got it right. I hope you like it. Many thanks to When In Doubt, Smile who did an excellent job of editing this chapter for me :) Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I baked a cake for you guys.

The world had never felt so cold to him before. Delicate white tendrils fell down from the sky; it was the beginning of December. He sat under the usual tree and stared out into the distance. He felt extremely thankful for the warming charm he had cast upon himself. It was a chilly morning and it had been a chilly night as well.

The sun had not graced the sky with its weak rays yet and the whole castle was asleep. His breath escaped his cracked lips in silky puffs of white that died into the cold winter air. He leaned his head against the wooden trunk of the oak and closed his eyes. It was so peacefully silent in the world at that moment and he felt like he was drifting away.

He thought about Granger. She had uttered not a word to him in the three weeks they had been avoiding each other. The music room felt like it had lost it's meaning without her there. He missed her and the little quirks that made her Granger. He remembered the way a dimple would form at the corner of her mouth when she smiled and how she would fall asleep so easily when studying with him. He remembered how her bones would make cracking noises after a night of studying and how he would be rendered speechless at her smile.

She was one of the most kindest people he knew and sometimes he felt like his mere presence was tainting her. She was everything he wasn't and he had enjoyed the time they had spent in the music room together.

He knew that he would never regain those moments.

Hermione sat up in bed, her hair a mess framing her pale face. She felt so tired, like her bones were heavy rocks weighing her down. She fought hard to keep her eyes open as she got out of bed and got dressed in her school robes. She didn't bother bushing her hair and messily knotted her tie around her neck as she slammed the portrait door behind her.

Her satchel was loaded with many heavy tomes and her shoulder hurt from the weight. She fought the fatigue in her eyes and quickly made her way down the moving staircases. She was headed for the library and in the early hours of the morning when everyone else was fast asleep, she would be able to study in silence.

It was early morning and dark outside which meant that she had plenty of time before breakfast. Hermione made sure not to wake any of the sleeping portraits, walking with soft footsteps. With every step she took, her satchel felt heavier and so did her eyelids. She felt dizzy and there were sharp pains in her chest. She staggered, stopping in her steps to hold on to the banister. She felt her legs collapse under her and a sharp pain in the side of her head.

And then there was nothing.

He trudged back to the castle, thankful that the snow was not that deep yet. His warming charm had already faded; he hadn't bothered with renewing it and it was bloody cold out. He pushed open the entrance door slightly and walked in. A rush of warm toasty air greeted him as he entered. There was plenty of time before everyone awoke and set to breakfast. He could vaguely recall there being homework that he hadn't done yet.

He set off to the library, noting how silent the castle was early in the morning. The portraits he passed were snoring, deep in sleep that would not be interrupted until daylight came. The high windows showed the dark sky outside and the cold mist on its glass. Draco turned a corner on the stairs and immediately regcognised the familiar paintings on the opposite wall. He was nearing the library; just a few more familiar paintings to past. His eyes slid over the slumbering portraits and to something—no, someone—slumped on the floor, unconscious. He frowned, drawing closer. And on closer inspection, he realised that it was Granger.

A wave of panic shot through him, anything could have happened to her. Several possibilities ran through his mind, each as unseemly as the last. He nervously chewed his lip, he didn't know what to do and Madam Pomfrey was probably asleep. He had two options, to leave her there for someone to find or bring her to the hospital wing himself. He opted for the latter and took her petite frame into his arms.

She was like a limp corpse and if it were not for the slight rise and falls of her chest, he would have believed her dead. Her skin was pallid and sickly, and cold to the touch. And he could've sworn he saw her eyelids flicker for a moment before closing. Bile rose in his throat as he quickened his pace and broke into a run. He didn't know what was wrong with her and that scared him. It scared him more than he thought it would.

And Draco Malfoy was rarely afraid of anything at all. Soon, the kissing white doors of the hospital wing came into view and he shouldered pass them. The doors slammed open and his eyes frantically scanned the wing for the Madam Pomfrey. The motherly woman emerged from a door, which he assumed led to her quarters, dressed in a nightgown. Upon seeing him and the head girl in his arms, she instructed him to lay her down at a bed. She continued to check several things, such as her pulse and temperature.

"What's wrong with her?" was the first thing he said. And his frowned deepened when the nurse did not answer him. He didn't want to know what would happen if Granger died. The thought was too disturbing. She had become someone of...importance to him and losing her was something he didn't want to go through.

"Wha—" he was about to repeat his question but was cut off.

"Don't worry, Mister Malfoy. It doesn't seem to be anything life threatening," she reassured him. Immediately, relief washed over him. He sank back into his chair, silently thanking Merlin. It was probably just a fever or something of the sort. Granger would be fine. After several muttered incantations and wand movements, Madam Pomfrey turned to him.

"She has low blood pressure, caused by poor eating habits. She'll have to stay in the hospital wing for a few days and seeing that this is Miss Granger, I'll need you to bring her class work for her."

"Oh..." he said, not entirely sure what low blood pressure was but it didn't sound very nice at all. The nurse nodded at him and headed back to her quarters to sleep.

He sat beside her bed, contemplating whether she would like forget-me-nots or daffodils more. He decided to go with the forget-me-nots and muttered a charm. A bunch of light pastel blue flowers sprung from his hand and he placed them in a vase. He took one last parting glance at her before he left.

Hermione groggily opened her eyes. It took a moment for her to register that she was, in fact, in the hospital wing. She sat up in the bed, feeling slightly better than the last time she had been awake. She felt a slight furrow between her brows as she searched her memory for what had happened. She could recall vague memories of an early morning and a brief flash of bright platinum, but that was it.

"Oh, you're awake Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said as she parted the curtains to enter. She passed her a glass of bubbly blue potion and instructed her to drink.

"Why—"

"Questions later, dear, drink up," the nurse said in a firm tone. Hermione obliged, downing the potion quickly. It tasted strange, sweet, and unpleasantly foul. It made her tastebuds tingle and felt like ice as it sild down her throat. She made a face at the taste and gave the glass to Madam Pomfrey who started to check on things like her temperature. She opened her mouth to ask the nurse a question but hadn't even uttered a word when the nurse started explaining.

"You fainted, my dear. Due to low blood pressure and also because you haven't been eating well. Lucky that a young man decided to bring you—"

"A young man?"

"Yes," said Madam Pomfrey. "Draco Malfoy, if I remember correctly. He had been very demanding, seemed very worried about you," the older woman smiled kindly at her and she felt herself flush. She hadn't talked to Malfoy in weeks and felt a rush of gracefulness towards the wizard. He had been very distant and had been blatantly ignoring her which had hurt a bit. Doing something like this out of the blue startled her. He really had changed.

"Now, what have you been eating?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted her thoughts. She flushed red at this question, she hadn't been eating very much in the past three weeks. Studying had been the constant thing on her mind and she had gotten into a habit of reading more than eating during meal times, sometimes skipping meals entirely.

"Um..." she trailed off.

"Well?"

"I've not been eating very much," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "I've been busy."

"That's not a good enough reason, you'll have to stay in the hospital wing for two more days," Madam Pomfrey said disapprovingly.

"Two days?" she almost shouted.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you haven't been nourished properly for a few weeks and it takes a while for your body to regain these needed nutrients. Low blood pressure isn't life threatening but if you continue like this, it will worsen. You're starting to look a little thin dear."

"But I've got school work and—"

"I'll have all your school work taken to you here so that you may keep yourself busy."

That silenced Hermione immediately. Madam Pomfrey gave her a small smile and hurried off. She glanced at the time. It was an early morning and Malfoy was probably down at the lake.

Speaking of Malfoy, he had been popping into her mind at the most random times when she did not want him there. She had thought about him a lot, although she didn't want to. She had wondered whether he liked talking to her and spending time in her company because he had been rather cold since she had kissed—no, pecked— him on the cheek.

She would find herself occasionally absentmindedly searching the hallways for a familiar head of blond and would abruptly stop, remembering that he didn't want to associate himself with her anymore. She scowled at the mere thought of him. Draco bloody Malfoy.

He would be extremely pleasant one second and the next it would be like he had disappeared. Potion classes were the worst because he was sat behind her and she swore that she could feel his gaze boring into her. She didn't know why he even bothered to look at her.

She was nothing.

Nothing special. Just Hermione Granger.

He kept sending mixed signals that were extremely hard to understand. And she still wasn't sure whether he wanted to be friends—or not.

He slipped between the white curtains and took a seat beside her bed. She was in a peaceful slumber. For a fleeting moment he wondered why Madam Pomfrey had instructed him to deliver homework to her and not Potter. He placed the stack of books on the nightstand. The blue flowers he had conjured were still fresh and had not wilted in the slightest. He took her small wrist in his hand and traced meaningless patterns on the back of her hand. He contemplated leaving so that she would never know who had conjured the flowers or brought her books for her.

He was just about to leave when her eyes opened. Their eyes connected and he didn't dare look away. It felt like he was drowning in the depths of her eyes. They were of a deep brown, flecked with gold and shades of lighter brown. He had forgotten how it felt like to look into her eyes and realised how he had desperately missed it. Just having her stare back at him was something he hadn't experienced for three weeks and he felt sorry that he had been such a sensitive git to her.

"Hi," she whispered softly. He gulped; her voice was something he hadn't heard in a long time as well.

"Hi," he replied, just as soft. He bit his lip nervously and she glanced over to the vase of forget-me-nots and back to him.

"Did you...?" she trailed off and he nodded slowly. There was a moment of silence where he avoided her gaze and she tried hard to catch his eye.

"Draco," she said, her voice raspy as she placed her hand over his. He looked up, surprised that she had said his first name. She continued, "I-I...I think that I want t-to be friends."

She stuttered as she spoke, looking at their hands. His eyebrows shot up his hairline. Friends? Like how she was chummy and close with Potter? He didn't want something like that ... In fact, he didn't know what he wanted with her.

"I-I promise I won't do something like that again," she said softly, and he knew that she was referring to the peck.

"Granger, I've been an outright git to you and...I'm s-sorry," he said, having a little trouble with saying the last two words. He had never apologised with this much sincerity in his voice before. And he was surprised to find that he meant every word that he said.

She smiled weakly at him, "It's alright, Draco. I didn't mind, not that much a-anyway."

"No, I'm sorry. I was wrong to be so...cold to you and the only thing you had done was—"

"I said it's okay, everything's back to normal now right?"

"Y-Yes," he said softly and repeated himself, this time louder, "...Yes."

But she had already fallen asleep.

She had been reading for exactly seventeen minutes when he arrived in his school robes. He strode into the hospital wing, hair disheveled, his satchel slung over his shoulder and a few books in his arms. A small smile tugged at her lips as he sat down and all but dumped the books on the nightstand. He have her a weak smile and sat back in his chair.

"Hello."

"Hello," he returned the greeting. There was a moment of silence where she twiddled with her thumbs and he looked at anywhere but her. She looked up at him, almost shyly.

"How are you?"

"Peachy," was his short reply as he ran a hand through his hair, "There was a lot of school work today."

She nodded slowly and gestured to the books on the nightstand, "Are those...?"

"Your school work," he said, handing her one from the top of the pile. Their fingers briefly brushed against each other when she took the book from him and she was certain she had felt something, like electricity. She was sure he had felt it too but he remained indifferent so perhaps it was just her imagination.

"What is he doing here?" said a familiar voice from behind the blond. Draco turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Why, Potter, lovely day isn't it?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," the dark haired boy said menacingly, scowling.

"Harry!" Hermione said in surprise, her eyes meeting those of a vibrant green. Harry frowned at the blond, curiosity and suspicion blatant on his face.

"I need to talk to Harry," Hermione said apologetically to the blond. Draco nodded and left.

"So, you're telling me that you and Malfoy are friends?" Harry said, putting emphasis on the last word. He stared at Hermione and then blinked in disbelief. Hermione could already predict what was running through his head. He probably thought it was just a little joke they had planned. Or perhaps he thought that she had gone mental. And he was right.

"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking," he said, laughing nervously. She fixed him with a firm gaze, it was very obvious that she wasn't joking at all. His weak laughter seized immediately and he returned her gaze, a furrow between his brows.

"Really, Hermione? Malfoy?"

"Yes, Harry. I never intended to become friends with him, it just happened," she explained, "A-And, I think he's changed. He's really changed, Harry. He's not that little git we hated anymore, he's...different now."

"I don't like it, Hermione. I don't like it at all. I never liked Malfoy, you know that and I find it hard to believe that he's changed, and for the better. But if you want to be friends with him..." Harry sighed and looked her dead in the eye, "I trust you Hermione. You're smart and you can make your own decisions but if he hurts you, I'll blast his—"

"Don't tell Ron, alright?" she cut him off.

"I won't. He'd go absolutely mad," Harry nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose. He then retrieved a book from his bag and set it on top of the stack of books on the nightstand.

"I bought you a new book," he smiled.

"I love you, Harry. Do you know that?"

"I love you too, 'Mione."

Two days passed so fast, it felt like no time had passed at all. It was a Thursday morning when she woke up, this time in her own bed.

The whole castle was asleep in the early hours of the morning, except for her. She sat up and stared at her hands, knowing that sleep would not take her until the next night. She smiled as she pulled open the beige curtains. It had snowed over night and outside, the world was cover in a blanket of white. She quickly got dressed, making sure to wear gloves and knot her Gryffindor scarf around her neck.

She was tired but that could not keep her from wanting to go outside in the snow. There was a little skip in her step as she walked down the moving staircases, past the creaking armours and into the entrance hall of the castle. She pushed open the door, a grin lighting up her features as she saw the snow.

A gush of glacial wind immediately woke her senses up completely; it was extremely cold out. She cast several charms on herself to keep herself warm and dry and headed out into the open. The lake had yet to freeze over and no doubt would soon for the dropping temperature. She walked over to the familiar oak tree and almost sat down when she realised two things that made her stop.

One, the ground had snow on it and although she had cast several charms she was still reluctant to sit down. And two, Draco Malfoy was up in the tree, peering down at her. She met his gaze and there was a silent staring contest before he said something that made her avert her gaze.

"Are you coming up?" she nodded and grabbed a bough, pulling herself up. It took a while, but she finally got to the top where she sat down next to him. He glanced at her; there were crystal snowflakes in her hair and he thought that they looked lovely.

"Why are you up so early?" she asked, turning to meet his gaze.

"Why are you up so early?"

"Must you answer a question with another question?"

He chuckled.

"Well, I couldn't sleep," she said, staring out into the distance. The trees had finished shedding their leaves and were bare, leaving them clearly visible to anyone who did look out of the window. But what did she care?

"Me too."

She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. He turned his head in surprise and caught a strong waft of her shampoo. Apples, it was so simple and so like Granger. They sat there in silence, content with what they had. They were friends and he liked being friends with her. She was a wonderful person and everything about her made him want to know more.

He frowned as he realised that he did not know much about her, not very much at all. He knew the basic things but he did not know things like her favourite book or what music she preferred or the name of her ghastly cat. He felt something warm slip into his hand and it was took a moment before he realised that it was a hand, Granger's hand. His eyes widened and he looked at her and blinked hard.

She was holding hands with him. A rush of warmth flooded his senses and he felt a small smile grace his features.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I call you Hermione?"

"Can I call you Draco?"

"Must you answer a question with another question?"

"I'll take that as a yes then."

"Hermione," he said, testing the way her name rolled off his tongue. "Hermione," he repeated.

"Yes, Draco?" he smiled at her, deciding that he liked it when she said his name.

"What's your favourite book?"