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Chapter 5

Head Common Room
1:00 a.m.


Was it possible for someone to put nails into your head and still survive? It had to be because that was what Draco Malfoy was feeling at the moment. His head was pounding so hard that the mere thought of thinking made it hurt even more. Maybe he was dead, that could be it, he had finally been pushed too far by his father and he had died. That did seem like a wonderful thought at the moment. Then why was it he kept hearing a strange voice saying his name…it was so far away that it sounded like a whisper to him.

Malfoy,” said the voice softly, it sounded like an angel. So full of comfort and peace and made Draco want to go to it. “Draco,” it was louder this time. When Draco opened his eyes, the lights made them shut quickly, why did everything have to be so bloody bright? Again he tried opening them, revealing a blurry figure above him with a strangely worried expression. “Malfoy, you’re awake! Dobby, please go get me more of the warm clothes…oh and some ice please.” Draco flinched when he heard a loud pop and looked into the face of this blur, this woman, this…Granger?

“Granger,” he chocked out, trying to sit up, but she pushed him back down gently. His back hit the comfort of the cushions again and he looked around. All right, so he was in a room, a common room? No, definitely not Slytherin’s common room, it was much too warm. “Where am I, Granger?”

Hermione starred down at him in confusion and…was that concern? “Don’t you remember? You walked in to the Head common room and fainted.”

“I did not faint,” Draco hissed, but grabbing his ribs when pain shot through them. “Malfoy’s do not faint.”

Her face hardened as she looked down at him. “Well, this Malfoy faints apparently. Now, you need to relax and just stay still.” Draco heard the popping sound again and tried to see what was behind Hermione.

“Here you go, Ms. Granger, hot from the oven. Dobby made it himself just as you asked, Miss.”

“Thank you, Dobby, I can take care of him now,” said Granger softly; taking whatever Dobby was giving her. After Dobby had left she turned back to Malfoy and gently took a warm cloth running it down his face. Draco closed his eyes trying not to show how good it felt. “You are pretty bloodied up, care to tell me what happened?”

“No,” answered Malfoy simply, “I really don’t feel like talking about it. Especially to a Mudblood like you.” The words had come from his mouth before he could stop them.

Draco could feel her stiffen beside him and suddenly the warm cloth wasn’t on his forehead any longer. “Well, if you’re going to be an pompous ass about it than take care of yourself, Malfoy. I was just trying to be nice; you know? Make peace.” When she had finished her small rant Hermione stood and headed towards the door. What she hadn’t expected was Malfoy’s voice stopping her.

“Wait, please,” he said, trying to sit up, but failing miserably. If his father wanted him to seduce the filthy Mudblood, then the easiest path was to get her sympathy and use it against her.

Never before had Hermione heard Draco ask politely, let alone almost beg for something. As she turned, a frown still covered her face. “If I help you I need you to promise you won’t call me Mudblood anymore. Granger is fine, or even Muggle-born, but not Mudblood.” She wasn’t asking him, Hermione was demanding this of him and it was accept it or be enemies.

“Fine, Granger, I accept, now will you help me,” Draco snapped, lying back down on the couch. “My head feels like it is going to explode and I can’t feel my right leg.”

Sounds could be heard as Hermione walked back over to the couch and kneeled next to it, just as she was before. The warm cloth was once again on his forehead, wiping away all the dry blood that was stuck to it. “After I wash away this blood, you will have to hold the ice on. You’re right cheek has taken quite a beating.”

“You have no idea,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What was that,” she asked, pulling blankets from the couch next to them and covering his body. “Did you say something?” Draco was about to answer when suddenly he felt Hermione tucking in the blankets around him. Maybe his father had planned for Hermione to see him like this, and that’s why he beat him harder then usual. Could this all be part of his twisted plan?

“No,” he finally answered, closing his eyes, “no I didn’t say a word.” Sleep overtook him the moment those blankets were tucked around him. If he wasn’t so tired, Draco could of swore he heard Hermione wish him sweet dreams, but that wasn’t possible. The stupid Mudblood wasn’t capable of saying something like that to him. Right?







Secret Location
1:45 a.m.


“My Lord, I have spoken with my impudent son and he knows he must try harder to seduce the Mudblood.” Lucius fell to his knees before his Lord, his hood hiding his face.

“Good and you told him just as I said, making sure that every bruises and cuts you gave him were visible?” Voldemort cracked his knuckles starring down at his servant.

“Yes, my Lord, everything is going according to plan. Just as you said it would.” Lucius stood up, his head still bowed. “My son will accomplish his task and then we will have Ms. Granger. After we do, my Lord, who will have the honor of killing the willful Mudblood?”

Suddenly Voldemort stood, making Lucius fall backwards onto the ground, cowering under his evil glare. “No harm will come to Ms. Granger. No physical pain, not when she first arrives at least. The girl is more valuable then you know, Lucius,” he said, hissing Lucius’ name coldly.

“Yes, my Lord, my apologies.” Lucius stayed on the floor until Voldemort signaled for him to stand. “Can I be of any more service?”

“I have an idea on how to make this plan come along a bit quicker and I need the help of my followers.” Voldemort’s face broke into a wicked snare as his mind worked. “We will need to find a way around the protection of the Order.”

“Of course, and why would we need to find this out?” Voldemort glared furiously at Lucius making him kneel down on the ground again. “Accept my apology, my Lord, my curiosity is inexcusable.”

“Stand, Lucius, your ignorance is wearing my patience thin, but since you are a loyal servant I will ignore it. Now, gather everyone together I must tell everyone my plan.” Lucius kneeled on the ground, in fear, as Voldemort stood before him and actually laughed a cold, vile, cackle.


Head Common Room
8:00 a.m.

The warmth he felt was almost overwhelming as Draco Malfoy opened his eyes. The pain in his head had subsided a little and his stomach was bandaged, the only thing that still hurt like Merlin was his leg. It couldn’t be broken, he wouldn’t accept that, Quidditch was starting soon and he was Seeker and Captain of the Slytherin team. “Bloody hell,” he said out loud, but shut up as he heard a sound on the side of him.
As his eyes traveled to the side of his body imagine his surprise when saw a sleeping Granger. Her head propped up on the couch next to his right arm, and the rest of her body on the floor. She had stayed with me the whole night, he thought, ridiculous Gryffindor.

“Granger,” he said, moving his arm around trying to wake her. “Hello, Granger, rise and shine.” The stubborn girl laid asleep next to him still, unmoving and taking no notice to his calls. Shaking his head, Draco began to think of something to say, and then it came to him. “Hermione.”

Almost instantly Hermione woke up, fluttering her eyelashes. When she saw Draco her face immediately turned from that dreamy expression that she had awoken with to a surprised, and slightly angry one. Once Hermione realized why she was in the Head Common Room, with Draco Malfoy, her face softened and that annoying concern came again. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” was his answer as he sat up, grabbing his ribs to suppress the pain. “Did you wrap my stomach?” Turning her face away from him she nodded her head. “Why didn’t you just take me to Madame Pomprey?”

“I just thought that you wouldn’t want it out that the Slytherin God had gotten the Merlin beat out of him and needed help from a Gryffindor. Can you imagine the gossip?” Draco almost smiled, but stopped himself. This girl was out of her mind; he had made fun of her for years. Made fun of her hair, clothes, heritage, everything, and still she helps him; what was it this girl was on? “Anyways, it’s Saturday so you can stay here if you want. If you feel like you’re well enough to walk, up those stairs to the left is a door leading to the Slytherin common room. I will come check on you later, if you’re gone then so be it.” Slowly she stood, running her fingers through her tangled hair. Sleep was still visible around her and Draco could tell she was exhausted. How long had she been up with him? When he didn’t answer Hermione took that as her answer and turned to leave, but once again was stopped by his voice.

“Why, Mud-…Granger, why help me?” It was a logical question and in his mind it needed to be answered.

“You can have anything in your life, Malfoy, as long as you sacrifice something to get it. Nothing comes without a price; it’s just how life is. Last night, when you walked in I made a decision, I decided whatever you sacrificed last night…whether it your dignity or your freewill it couldn’t be worse than all the pain you have caused me. So, I helped you.” With those words she walked out, leaving Draco Malfoy sitting on the couch trying to figure out how Hermione Granger could be so saintly all the damn time.




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