Chapter Thirteen: Sleep
Broken chairs, old books, wine-stained clothing, and anything else one could imagine were strewn in mountainous piles throughout the never-ending, ever-changing room. It was dark and musty with very little light, but it was enough. Draco didn't mind the darkness. Malfoy Manor was much cleaner than this room but it was still dark and filled with interesting objects people wanted hidden. He found the Room of Hidden Things relatively comfortable.
At first, Hermione didn't like the room, she thought it was too cluttered and too musty. She got lost the first couple times she met him here by herself, unable to find the cabinet, but by now she had the path memorized. If she was studying with her other friends until 8:00, she'd meet him here instead of the library or her portrait hole.
Tonight was one of those nights. Draco arrived at the Room of Requirement almost fifteen minutes ago, but Hermione had still not come. Again, the usually punctual witch was late.
Draco started worrying by minute seventeen, but just as he started moving toward the door to go look for her, he heard the sounds of feet scuffling in his direction. It was probably Hermione. Not many people knew about the Room of Hidden Things, after all. Just in case, he raised his wand, finding someone rounding the last curve of the path.
"AHH!" She shouted when she registered the aggressive stance. "Malfoy, why are you pointing that thing at me?" Hermione shrieked.
Draco lowered his wand instantly, shaking his head. "Why are you late?"
"You could have hurt me!" She shouted this too, though Draco heard a mixture of hurt and disbelief in her tone as well- as if she wondered if he'd actually wanted to hex her.
His next words emanated from someplace that the blonde didn't regularly acknowledge. "You had me worried," he grumbled.
She sighed and continued her walk over to him. "I'm sorry, it's just been a long day. I lost track of time."
He took in her appearance when she got closer. Her hair, always relative unruly, was presently frizzier than her cat's ungodly orange fur, half tied back artlessly, while a pair of shadows lurked beneath her eyes. There was no spark left in her eyes at all, which, Draco would admit, was the most upsetting detail of all.
"Bloody hell, Granger, you look awful," Draco declared without any trace of the aristocratic gentlemanliness he usually carried.
He had noticed the circles under her eyes growing darker every day, but he hadn't mentioned it. He knew he'd looked better before this year, too. It wasn't his place to say anything.
Today was different though.
Today, Draco couldn't help himself. It was obvious she wasn't sleeping much– if she was sleeping at all. She almost looked sick by the way her skin was paling, and she definitely looked like she didn't care much about anything at all. And that wouldn't do because he needed Hermione on top of her game if she was going to be the slightest bit helpful with the cabinet. Also, he'd admit, because he cared about her.
"Wow, you know exactly how to make a girl feel beautiful," Hermione spat back. The witch set her book bag on a nearby broken chair and rolled up her sleeves.
She was in a worse mood than usual, too. Something was definitely wrong. Draco hesitantly walked over to her placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She shook away his hand quickly as she turned away from him.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm just tired, Draco. I'm fine." She picked up her wand and moved closer to the cabinet, a silent plea for him to drop it.
But Draco was just as stubborn as she was; he wasn't going to let this alone. "You don't look fine. You look like you haven't slept all week," the Slytherin protested.
"Fine, you're right," she huffed, turning to face him, finger poking at his chest. "I've barely slept this week and I didn't manage any last night so yes, I'm sorry I don't meet your requirements for your picture-perfect girlfriend. I'm sorry I'm in a grumpy mood. I'm sorry I don't feel like chatting a whole lot. I just want to get to work."
"I'm not working with you until you tell me what's bothering you. What's keeping you up?"
"Newsflash, Draco! You aren't my real boyfriend! No one is watching us in here! You don't have to pretend that you care about me!"
"You honestly think I don't care about you?" he asked, affronted.
"That's beside the point, Draco," she mumbled, taking a step away from him and looking at the ground.
"No it's not," he said, his voice almost a whisper as he stepped closer to her, wanting to reach out and comfort his hurting witch. "I do care, Hermione, I have since that night on the bench."
She sighed an unspoken apology and let his arms wrap around her. "This storm that's been going on all week, it's been keeping Lavender up every night. I guess she's scared of thunder, or at least that's what she's playing."
"So you can't sleep because Lavender can't sleep?" Draco pulled away, going to sit on a nearby broken couch. She followed.
"No, it's that Lavender has been insisting that she needs Ron to sleep there too, so he can protect her from the storm or something similarly stupid. So he's been staying with her every night and it's– it's–
"Nauseating? Inconsiderate? Torture? Against school rules?" he offered. "Wait, how does he get into the girl's dormitory?"
"Levitation charm." The blonde continued to look puzzled. "The stairs notice when a boy steps on them, but if they never step, they can't stop him from floating up," she explained.
"That's genius!" the boy cheered, a look of awe crossing his face. That earned a strong smack on his shoulder.
"It's a violation of school rules! And it's keeping me up at night. They don't just sleep if you know what I mean," said Hermione, grimacing.
"Merlin, no wonder you don't look–" At a pointed look, he reconsidered his next words. "Have you thought about telling McGonagall?"
"I think that would make it worse, honestly. I don't want to get professors involved. It's okay, the storm should be over soon and I'll be able to sleep in peace."
Draco wasn't sure what other advice he could offer, so he summoned Dobby to bring them some highly caffeinated tea and they set off on the cabinet.
True to her promise, they had spent almost four hours working on mending the Vanishing Cabinet every night since their afternoon picnic by the lake. They'd gotten a bit done.
Hermione had noticed a few places at the base of the cabinet where the wood was splintering. According to the brains of their relationship (as Hermione had dubbed herself when she noticed the imperfection), the deterioration of the physical cabinet may hinder its ability to form a passage. That was an easy fix. Draco, (the self-named potions expert of the relationship) spent one of their evenings brewing a batch of Forte Lignum, which was a simple household potion that could be used to restore or protect wooden furniture. It had mended the splintered base in no time. Hermione's spell glowed the slightest bit lighter but still was an obvious blue glow.
Tonight, they needed another breakthrough, even if it was small.
"Harmonia nectere passus."
Nothing.
"Harmonia nectere passus."
Still nothing.
They'd tried doing the incantation at the same time. They tried repeating it and waving their wands differently, but this incantation was not working in the slightest. They needed a new spell.
"That's it! Draco, I think… I think we need a different spell!" Hermione grinned widely.
"No, this is the one that Borgin told me to use. We just have to–
"Wasn't it you who told me that my mind could do more?"
Her voice was forceful and fierce but the tone had no effect on the Slytherin who's annoyance was growing. He pressed on as if he hadn't heard her, but he had. He pressed on as if he hadn't already relented in his mind, knowing she was right.
"It will work if we just keep trying," he maintained, refusing to outwardly show an easy defeat.
"Don't be silly. We've tried this same spell in dozens of variations. We've scoured every inch of this cabinet and the structure is perfect. And we haven't been able to make a feather vanish. We need a new spell."
"Sure, how do you expect we figure out a new spell that is not yet known to the world, hm? How do you suggest we do that?" scoffed Draco.
"Latin," She said as if it was obvious. "Lumos, nox, levicorpus; most spells and incantations are rooted in Latin. We need to do some research in other phrases that might mean something similar to 'fix the cabinet.'"
"Okay, so what do we need? I don't know Latin very well," Draco admitted. He knew it was a good idea after all. He knew Snape had made a few of his own spells. Maybe this could work.
"Dictionaries to translate," suggested the brains, "and we should go back to our office room to make a list of possibilities."
Once Draco agreed that it was a good idea, they rushed to the library to collect the dictionaries. It wasn't long before they were back in their office that the Room of Requirement provided. Hermione took her usual spot on the couch, while Draco settled at the desk.
An hour went by as both students scratched ideas away onto parchment, occasionally sharing ideas or thinking of vocabulary.
"Do you think it could be 'bond'? It might be a little too cute for describing the relationship between twin cabinets. What do you think?" Draco asked.
When he didn't receive an answer, the blonde looked at the couch where Hermione lay, asleep. The Latin book was resting on her chest, an arm lazily thrown over the edge, and her head leaning against the armrest.
He should have made her more tea or suggested they call it an early night.
Should he wake her up? No, if he woke her now, she'd either insist on working more or she'd want to go back to her room, and she definitely wouldn't get any sleep there.
He could just let her sleep for a bit. Maybe wake her up after she's gotten a few solid hours.
Settling on that plan, Draco conjured a soft green blanket and draped it over her sleeping figure. She did look relaxed, and Salazar knew she needed a break.
Draco returned to his own dictionary and continued to take down notes, watching the minutes on the clock tick by.
The grand clock struck four times.
Hermione rolled over in her half-asleep state, drawing the single green blanket she wore closer around her cold figure. Usually, she slept fine throughout the night, the elves bringing hot water bottles if it was going to be a cold one, but nonetheless, the Gryffindor would make best with what she had. For some reason, she was brought out of her rem cycle by the chimes of the Grand Clock.
Strange, she thought. Usually, the chimes never carried this far throughout the castle.
Opening her eyes the slightest sliver with hopes of seeing her other blanket discarded on the floor beside her, Hermione realized she was not in her bedroom at all. The witch sat up on the couch so rapidly, the blanket fell to the floor with a light thud.
Our office... How did I fall asleep in our office?
She remembered being extremely tired. She remembered coming to this room so they could make a list of other Latin phrases that might help them. She remembered reading through the dictionary, but she could not remember falling asleep. She could not remember conjuring a blanket.
Her gaze caught the sight of blonde hair; Draco. His broad shoulders covered a large portion of his desk, his left cheek rested on the open pages of a large book. Knowing he wouldn't catch her staring, she couldn't help but take him in as he laid there so peacefully.
Hermione had been sure that Draco sneered in his sleep, the way the look was almost ever present on his face. But, for once, she was wrong.
And for once, she was fine with that.
He looked serene in that moment, his breath making his torso rise and fall gently.
Had Draco given her the blanket? It was green, after all. The Slytherin prat probably thought it amusing to see the Gryffindor Princess cuddled up with an emerald throw. He could have woken her up. He could have left her cold. But he had made sure she was comfortable and let her sleep, knowing she desperately needed it.
His voice rang through her memory. "You honestly think I don't care about you?"
The thought made her tummy flutter.
But what now? Sleeping bent over a desk could not be very comfortable at all. Pensively, Hermione crept over to the sleeping boy, her gaze struck by the gentleness of his features. The usually hard angles appeared less prominent, his jaw seemed more relaxed.
She was struck by his attractiveness. He didn't appear so arrogant without his signature scowl or sharp edges. Then again, his scowl had shown less and less lately, especially at her. His smile was becoming more regular than the grimace. Hermione hoped it was because of her, but she knew that none of this was real. Still, his mouth looked so much nicer when its corners were turned up.
"Draco," she whispered.
He didn't move. "Draco, wake up," she tried a bit louder. Still, no response.
She reached out to shake his shoulder, "Dra–
The blonde head shot off the book like a torpedo, adrenaline obviously fueling his agility. His right hand reached out to grab the one that touched his shoulder with incredible force, looking up into the face of his attacker.
He softened but did not release the hand. "Hermione?" he asked softly, fight-or-flight reaction ebbing away.
"I– I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to wake you, it's just that–"
Her voice, shaky and scared, trailed off. She hadn't meant to frighten him.
Draco observed the woman in front of him. He could see her eyes were wide, her breath was fast. Her hand was shaking ever so slightly in his fist. He released it quickly, realizing his perceived threat was anything but and feeling awful about his reaction. He didn't miss the slight step backwards she took.
The brief look of fear that crossed her face made him feel more like a monster than becoming a Death Eater ever had.
"Merlin, Hermione I'm sorry. I didn't realize," he said, calling a mental prayer into the world hoping that he hadn't injured her in any way.
"No, it's okay, it was an accident," she offered. While he was currently hating himself for becoming like the paranoid, defensive assailant he hated his father for being, he hated it more that this incredible witch was blaming herself for his inexcusable reaction.
"No, it's not okay, I frightened you! I grabbed you, even." He stood up to be closer to her. She didn't move away this time.
She could see the sorrow and shame in his face, he really hadn't meant any harm. It was instinct, nothing personal.
"I'm not sure when we fell asleep. We're still in the Room of Requirement."
Draco looked around the room as if realizing his environment for the first time. He seemed only momentarily confused.
"You fell asleep around eleven I think. You were exhausted, I didn't want to wake you. I figured I'd let you get a few hours before waking you up to go back. Obviously, I was quite tired myself," he explained thoughtfully.
Hermione smiled. "It's just after four now, we should go back. It wouldn't be good to be seen leaving here at nine when other students are out and about."
"Our roommates are going to realize we've been out so late. They're going to assume..." He trailed off, letting her mind fill in the sentence with what they were both thinking.
Harry had suspected earlier that week. He made it sound like more of a statement than speculation, though. Now Lavender, Blaise, Theo, and Ronald – assuming he stayed with Lavender again – would validate the rumors.
None of their roommates were very good at minding their own business.
Hermione pulled her shoulders back in mock confidence, "Let them think what they want, everyone was assuming we were… anyway."
"Okay," Draco said lamely.
"Walk me back? It's so dark," she hesitated, wondering if that request would be too much after the odd night they'd had.
He had let her sleep, made her comfortable, and he seemed genuinely sorry for startling her with his aggressive, defensive instinct. She wondered if this new, kind and caring, Malfoy had an expiration date. Had she received more than her day's worth? Would he mind spending a little more time with her?
"Of course."
Draco Malfoy, the gentleman.
They stored the new Latin books on the shelves and set off down the corridor. Draco's left hand held his wand high in the air, alight with a Lumos that cast enough light for them both to see three feet in front of them. Draco's right hand was draped around Hermione's waist, holding her close.
He smelled like pine trees and he smelled like rain.
Just like always.
"Thank you for the blanket by the way. It was very thoughtful," Hermione said sweetly as they walked.
"I couldn't let you get cold. You'd get sick."
She had come to anticipate his coolness, using an insulting tone to cover his true meaning. It had gotten himself far at Hogwarts, no one really understanding the true Draco Malfoy. But Hermione had come to accept that nonchalance was Draco's specialty; it was simply his Slytherin way of going about compliments.
His words were not particularly sweet or romantic, but Hermione heard something else hidden between the sentences he said. 'I couldn't let you get cold,' I care about you. 'You'd get sick,' I will protect you. She didn't know how to feel about that statement, but she understood.
They walked in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before they reached The Fat Lady. The portrait eyed Hermione sharply for the lateness of her return, but she wasn't saying anything, and for that, both students were grateful.
His arm was still wrapped around her waist in the comforting way that had become familiar. Their bodies were close together when she turned in his grasp to face him, a tired smile playing at her lips. "Thanks for walking me back, Draco. I'll see you tomorrow, noon?"
"I'll always walk you back, Granger. And yes, noon is perfect." His arms constricted around her and she realized she was being hugged.
Had Draco Malfoy ever hugged someone before?
He's good at it.
He softly kissed her forehead, sending tingles throughout her body and a blush to spread onto her cheeks.
"Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight, Draco," she smiled back, waiting only a moment as he disappeared around the corner before passing through the portrait hole and up into her dormitory.
If Ron was there, she didn't notice. Everything was quiet as she climbed into her four-poster, clothes and all, drifting off once again to a happy sleep.
It must have been nearly five in the morning when Ron finally heard the dormitory door click open.
What was she thinking- staying out so late? He'd gotten in and out of Lavender's lumpy bed a dozen times, wondering if he should go search for her. He'd been thinking himself into a worried state of panic and anger for the last three hours.
And, worse, he couldn't decide if it was a concern for her safety, or jealousy that ruled his frustrations.
Ron didn't need the Marauders Map to know that she'd been out with Malfoy.
Ginny'd told him that Hermione left the library around eight after realizing she was going to be late for her standing date with the ferret. His sister also mentioned that she was growing concerned about Hermione, explaining that she'd been looking rather exhausted and even seemed unfocused while they studied.
An unfocused Hermione was surely a sign that something was off. He wondered if maybe she was starting to regret dating the Ferret. Maybe, she was starting to see the foul git he was. But then Ron remembered the way she appeared to be almost falling asleep in History of Magic. Binns was boring beyond belief, and Ron himself had fallen asleep probably more often than he'd stayed awake, but Hermione could always be counted on to give her full attention to the needlessly mundane lectures.
She mustn't be getting much sleep, either, thought Ron.
Lavender had made an annoying, ridiculous demand for him to stay with her every night that week. He hadn't listened as she explained the reason, preferring to tune out her sugar-sweet voice whenever possible.
At first, he didn't really mind because it meant he'd get away from Neville's snores, he'd get to be around Hermione more, and he'd probably get laid– which was always a plus, even if he didn't actually like the witch who offered. But the whole sleepover plan took a dreadful turn extremely fast.
Lavender snored louder than all of the boys put together. She wanted to shag three or four times a night and threw a tantrum every time he rejected her with a cry of 'don't you think I'm sexy, Won-Won?' Did she not realize a man needed sleep? Even when she was sleeping, she would move around so much it kept him awake and gave him bruises. Worst of all, though, would definitely be hearing Hermione come back late into the night.
It had been midnight or one o'clock pretty consistently the past few days, but tonight, it was almost morning by the time she got into bed.
Ron hated the thought of what she'd been doing all night. Visions passed through his mind like a revolting montage: Hermione smiling at Malfoy over her books, Hermione leaning against Malfoy, Hermione's curly brown hair being invaded by the ferret's pale fingers, Hermione snogging Malfoy.
It disgusted him.
The visions continued, painting worse and worse pictures in Ron's mind.
Ron's blood was boiling. He moved from Lavender's unconscious grasp and laid on top of the blankets. The cool air did not help his bitter green feelings.
Hermione was too good for a snake like Malfoy.
Hell, as far as Ron saw it, Hermione was too good for anyone.
Crossing his arms and turning his back on the sleeping blonde witch beside him, Ron tried to summon memories of Hermione laying on him, Hermione smiling at him over her newest book. It calmed him only slightly, but it was enough to allow him to be consumed by sleep.
He dreamed of fire, and destruction, and Hermione.
.
.
A/N: Happy Friday! I hope you enjoyed this week's chapter! Shoutouts this week for EVERYONE who responded with their suggestions about protective Draco and the color of Hermione's dress! You'll see how your input helped shape the next chapter next Friday!
I've decided to change the rating for this fic to M. I will be making this change in order to allow for a bit more freedom for vulgar language. This will definitely not turn into a big smutfest, nor will the characters instantly start cursing every other sentence. No, that wouldn't be realistic. What you can expect is a few more curse words here and there. I will change the rating to Mature next Friday when I post!
Big Beta love for Rachelletwin2! Any errors that remain are my own (but you can message me about them so I can fix them!)
Follow me on Tumblr at OxfordElise for chapter updates, previews, or general discussions! :) I'm starting to write a few one-shots that spin off this fic, so you won't want to miss those!
Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling.
Many thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this story, OxfordElise