The world comes back to me in fragments.
The crisp scent of antiseptic clings to the air, sharp and clean, laced with something herbal. The faint rustle of fabric, the measured clinking of glass vials, the muffled hum of distant voices beyond the hospital wing's doors. It's oddly quiet.
I shift slightly, and pain hums through my limbs, dull but persistent. The sheets beneath my fingers are cool, stiff with the starch Madam Pomfrey swears by. My head feels heavy, like I've been asleep too long, but there's something else. A strange emptiness curls at the edges of my heart.
"Miss Granger."
Madam Pomfrey's voice is soft, but there's a sharpness beneath it. A quiet insistence. "You're awake, but you're not entirely yourself, are you?"
A chill runs down my spine. My heart stutters. "What do you mean?" I ask, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat.
She studies me carefully, eyes scanning my face like she's searching for something. An answer I don't want to give. "You're disoriented," she says slowly. "More than you should be." A pause. "You're not just tired, Miss Granger. You've been... affected."
The word feels heavy, deliberate. A knot tightens in my stomach.
The potion. The weight of her suspicion presses against me, making my pulse quicken.
"I..." The denial stalls on my tongue. She's watching too closely, her gaze pinning me down like she already knows.
Madam Pomfrey exhales, tilting her head slightly. "Tell me child, what were you doing before you collapsed?"
My fingers curl into the sheets.
Her silence urges me to speak, to fill the space between us. But I don't. I can't.
She waits.
Then, after a long beat, she sighs. "Miss Granger, I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth."
I press my lips together. My heart pounds. She's not wrong. But I still can't say it.
Madam Pomfrey studies me for a moment longer, then shakes her head. Resigned.
"Very well," she murmurs. "If you won't tell me, then at least do this...come see me every day while you recover." Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.
I nod, "I will," at least, Madam Pomfrey does not push me to tell everything now.
She lingers a moment longer. I can tell she's not fully satisfied. But she then steps toward the door.
"Also, Mr. Malfoy is waiting for you," she says as she opens it.
What?
Malfoy stands in the doorway, his gaze locking onto mine instantly. For a moment, the air between us crackles, and something inside me stirs. Something I can't explain.
The way he looks at me, unguarded and raw for just a fraction of a second.
My heart skips. The memory of the kiss floods back.
The pull, the overwhelming shift inside me. And then... nothing. I remember nothing else.
"Mr. Malfoy brought you here," Madam Pomfrey adds, her tone even. "You may want to thank him."
"...Thank you," I murmur, trying to ignore the uncertainty twisting inside me.
He says nothing. And for the first time, I see him falter. Draco Malfoy, always so composed, suddenly... uncertain.
"I need to tend to other students," Madam Pomfrey says, already stepping away. "Don't forget to see me daily, Miss Granger."
"I will," I promise, though the words feel weightless.
She leaves us alone.
Malfoy exhales, shifting slightly. "You're awake." His voice is quieter than usual. Hesitant.
I can't breathe properly. My pulse quickens, but it's different this time. The ache is softer, distant, as if something has been pulled from me, leaving only echoes.
"I... didn't expect you," I say, voice unsteady.
Malfoy's lips twitch, something almost like a smile, but it fades as quickly as it appears. "I wasn't going to leave you here, Granger," he says, but there's an edge to it, like he's trying to convince himself.
He stands at the foot of my bed, still too far away, yet his presence fills the room. His gaze flickers down to my hands, nervously clasped in my lap, before returning to my face.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with things unsaid. I can feel he wants to say something. But he's holding back.
Then, suddenly, his expression hardens. He exhales sharply, jaw tightening.
"Why did you kiss me?"
His voice is cold, but there's something else beneath it. Something frayed at the edges, something dangerous. His gaze stays locked on mine, daring me to explain.
My throat tightens. I can't tell him the truth. I can't explain the potion. I can't explain what's happening to me.
I look away, grasping for control, but Malfoy is still there, pulling at me like gravity. The ache is returning, creeping back into my chest now that he's so close.
"I... I don't know," I whisper. It's barely a sound.
Malfoy doesn't look away. His gaze is intense, searching. A flicker of something crosses his face. Frustration? Or, maybe something else.
"I don't believe you," he murmurs.
His voice cracks just slightly, and I catch it.
That rawness, that flicker of vulnerability he doesn't want me to see. It twists something inside me.
"You don't have to lie," he says, his words cutting. "Tell me why. Why would you kiss me?"
I don't know how to answer. I can't.
Malfoy steps back, shutting himself off. I see the walls come up again, piece by piece, as he retreats.
"I don't get you, Granger," he mutters, his voice cold once more. "You're a bloody mess, you know that?"
The words sting. More than they should. But maybe it's easier. Easier to handle his sharp edges than to deal with everything else.
Then, the door swings open.
"Hermione!"
Ginny's voice is a burst of warmth, relief evident on her face...until she spots him.
Her expression shifts, startled. "Malfoy?" Her gaze flickers between the two of us, suspicion creeping in. "What are you doing here?"
Malfoy exhales sharply, irritated by the interruption. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to say something. But then, his eyes meet mine again, just for a second. A look I can't decipher.
"I'll leave you to... whatever this is," he says, clipped and distant. His voice has lost its earlier bite, but something is unsettling about it. "Don't forget, Granger. You're not the only one who's confused here."
Then he turns and walks out, robes sweeping behind him.
I watch him go, a strange hollowness settling inside me. Relief. Disappointment. And something deeper.
Ginny waits until the door clicks shut before rounding on me.
"Alright," she says, crossing her arms. "What the hell was that?"
I shift under the blanket, trying to appear indifferent. "Nothing."
Ginny scoffs. "Oh, please. That was Malfoy in your hospital room, looking like he just lost an argument. And you expect me to believe it was nothing?"
I sigh. "He was the one who brought me here. I passed out, and he found me."
Ginny's brows furrow. "Malfoy?" She sounds surprised, then thoughtful. "That's… unexpected." Her eyes narrow. "So you met him earlier? Does this have anything to do with the counter-potion?"
A flicker of something uneasy stirs in me. "I don't know," I admit. "There was definitely a shift… something changed. But I don't know what it means yet."
Ginny studies me closely. "Okay, but do you still—" She hesitates, then lowers her voice. "Do you still find Malfoy that desirable?"
I hesitate. "It's… different now. I don't know how to explain it." I think back to that moment when I first saw him in the doorway. The pull was still there, but now it does not choke me like before. It is not that suffocating.
Ginny's eyes widen slightly. "That's a start!" she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're not completely under the potion's grip anymore."
"Maybe."
She tilts her head. "Still, it doesn't explain why Malfoy was here. I mean, sure, he brought you in, but that's still strange."
I glance down at my hands. "I don't know. Maybe he just wanted to see if I was okay."
Ginny gives me a skeptical look. "That doesn't sound like Malfoy."
I force a shrug, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Nothing else happened, Ginny."
She doesn't seem convinced. "Mhm. If you say so."
Before she can press further, I shift the conversation. "Do Harry and Ron know I'm here?"
Ginny lets out a breath, clearly aware I'm dodging her question, but she lets it slide. "Yeah. They'll come by after their classes."
She keeps talking, something about Madam Pomfrey fussing over me, but my thoughts drift.
Back to Malfoy.
To the way he looked at me before he left.
To the way something in his voice wavered, just slightly.
"Don't forget, Granger. You're not the only one who's confused here."
And I realize, with a sinking feeling, that he's right.