Part 7 - Lost for Touch

Hermione sighed into her hands the next Monday as she sat upon a stool in Potions after the weekend. She was still shaking, she already made a small cut in her finger from trying to slice a piece of unicorn hair in half but missing horribly.

She could tell her friends were worried but they wouldn’t show it, they didn’t know what was happening and probably thought this melt down was due to work like it was most of the days.

She woke up that morning in her bed, curled up in a ball with her blankets tightly around her and as she rolled over, she noticed a heap of blankets upon the floor with some quills and parchment.

Hermione scratched her head during class as she was recalling the moment, which was very strange indeed.

Sliding out of her bed, she was still slightly groggy and stuffed up due to tears in which the stains and marks still riddled her face. Slowly, she stepped over the heap of blankets and walked out to the common where she saw Draco pulling his shirt on and buttoning it up.
“Sorry,” Hermione whispered, placing a hand over her eyes as she turned her back.
“Don’t worry, are you ok?”

Hermione returned to her stirring, her face stony as she recalled his words.

“You scared me last night, you know,”
There was no anger in his voice at all, more like sincerity and worry.
Turning around again, Hermione looked at him as he stood facing her with an unreadable face. “Sorry,” she muttered once more.
Draco licked his lips then turned to the full length mirror again. “I was watching you last night,” he commented and Hermione looked up from her position behind the lounge as she ran her fingers across it.
Draco looked over his shoulder. “You were mumbling a lot of things in your sleep and were thrashing around a lot, so I stayed up there for the night.”

Even now, as Hermione stirred her potion twice clockwise and once counter-clockwise, it still made her speechless, he stayed the her room watching her sleep because he was worried.

Across the other side of the room, the same conversation was going on inside Draco’s head at that moment, what was he thinking!

“You stayed there all my room,” Hermione whispered, looking down at him from the stairs.
Draco now felt his face flush, what was he going to say to that one?
‘Oh yeah, and to add to the dramatics I took advantage of you at the same time’ as a that would probably make it worse...
“I was worried...” he muttered, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down. “I thought you’d appreciate it,” he snapped, looking up but Hermione didn’t flinch.
“I do,” she whispered, looking down at her hands awkwardly.
“I’ll... um put your sheets back in your room.”
Draco sighed and shook his head, “I’ll get them.”
“I’ll do it.”
“No, I’ll get them, really,” he argued quickly.

Hermione looked at him with a weird distant expression. “Well, I’d let you, except for the fact that I want to get dressed and, opposed to you sleeping in the same room as me, I’d rather if I didn’t have dress in the same room as you.”
Mid way through stirring, Draco slapped his palm to his forehead, anyone named Draco and is a complete dumb arse, raise thy hand!

Why was he acting like this? He wouldn’t care usually, actually he’d usually make the situation worse and laugh about the whole thing and mock the poor girl, but there was something this time that made him stop and think about what he was doing.
He glanced up from his table and watched her from a distance cutting up ingredients slowly then scanning the book before helplessly dropping her head her shoulder moving up and down in a sigh, which then made a lock of her hair tickle down her back.

Draco shuddered for a moment after he dropped his gaze.


“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Draco please, can we just move on, the sooner I do this, I get to go back.”

Hermione’s eyes met Draco’s as they stood in the middle of the music room with curtains drawn open only letting the light from the stars and moon shine in, a soft breeze drifting in from a slightly open window.
Draco bowed his head, “Ok, fine.”
Hermione chewed her lip, she was still slightly jumpy and her occurrence with Draco yesterday did not help, it only added to, the awkwardness and her nervousness knowing that he slept in her room that night and that he does care about her in a way.
“Right,” Draco said, leaning over the piano with his wand out.
He played a long up and down C scale while swishing his wand to the rhythm then came to a stop and walked over to Hermione, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor.

She came in three quarter pants this time and a normal t-shirt, thanks to Draco’s leniency of saying that he didn’t care what she wore; she only had to be able to move in it. Hermione twisted a little bit and breathed in as he walked over, checking that everything was right.

He had come up fifteen minutes before her to set everything up, which surprised Hermione when she walked in seeing everything pulled into place, music lyrics spread out.

“Now, you just have to show me what you can do first,” he explained, “Sing along with the scale and just think that I’m not here.”
Hermione looked up, “Slightly hard.”
Draco tilted his head then flicked his wand, which then started the scale of Middle C.

Hermione closed her eyes, breathed in slightly, and started with the music, finishing soon after.
“Ok, this is going to take some major work,” she heard Draco mutter and Hermione looked over her shoulder.
“You saying I’m a bad singer?”
Draco’s eyes met hers, “No, I’m saying you can hardly sing at all.”

Hermione dropped his gaze and turned, “Then why exactly are we doing this?”
The soft padding of his feet came towards her. “That I do not know, Professor Delarmour seems quite keen though,” he commented.
“Yeah, on making my life miserable.”

“Right, first I’m going to work on your breathing,” he said from behind her, his breath grazing the back of her neck, “Straighten up and don’t slump.”
Hermione stood up slightly.
“Come on, I’ve seen how straight you can stand, you do it every time you get angry at me.”

Hermione’s eyes jerked over to his and he chuckled from behind her, “Now stay like that.”
Hermione then felt her stance, she was up very straight, her back arched and her chest sticking out in line with the rest of her body.
“Breathe in,” he instructed, “Deeply.”
Hermione sucked in through mouth and nose, her shoulders rising high.
“Stop, let it out,” Draco said stiffly, walking front of her and Hermione let the deep long breath out, looking up at him.

He looked down at her, “Breathe through your diaphragm.”
Hermione slouched, “How am I meant to do that?”
Using his arms, they moved around him motioning, “Breathe in deeply through your nose but don’t let your shoulders rise, from that you’ll get maximum lung capacity.”

Hermione tried a few times, failing a little at first but then slowly getting the hang of it. “Tighten your diaphragm now, it must always be tense.”
Hermione looked up at Draco who was standing in front of her, “I don’t understand.”
Draco pursed his lips then reached down, grabbing Hermione’s small hand, then placed it against his stomach.
Hermione had to bit her lip to stop screaming at him as she could feel all his tight muscles moving below her fingers.
“Feel my diaphragm as I breathe,” he said softly.
Hermione looked up, her eyes locking his, her fingers moving softly on the light fabric of his shirt, the only thing separating her hands from his stomach as he breathed in sharply, his shoulders rising and his stomach jerking out.
He backed away dropping her hand. “Sorry,” he muttered turning away, making his hand collide with his forehead, which led to his fingers running through his hair.

Hermione swallowed and looked down at her hand stretching it a few times, “Are you-
“I’m fine, just a bit sick that’s all, I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Hermione protested, “But we’ve only been here for fifteen minutes.”
“Make up for it some other time – go please,” Draco said, his back turned to her.

Hermione dropped her hand and gazed around the dreaded music room. “Fine, I’ll see you in the common room, Draco,” she whispered, taking off.

Draco paced around the music room running his fingers constantly through his hair after Hermione left closing the door behind. What was wrong with him?
He swallowed his nerves and breathed turning around to the mirror where his saw his grey eyes had shone out to a brilliant blue.
“Argh, stop it,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes and turning around.
“She’s just a stupid Mudblood with problems,” he muttered to himself as he heaved the CD player back over to its correct place pushing it against the wall, “Not someone who needs –caring or my sympathy or-“
“Or what Draco?” A dry voice said coolly, inside his head.
Draco froze mid step, his breath becoming more rapid as his heart beating fast against his heavy chest.
“My time,” Draco replied.
“You better hope that’s all she’s wasting.”
Draco blinked and placed his hands to his temples muttering some counter curses.
“Don’t try to resist me you fool, Crucio!”
Draco cried and fell to the floor his back arching in pain, as if he was being split in two. Draco always wondered how he did that sort of thing without being there in front of him wand out. But, he had no time to contemplate as he was stuck with another surge of pain which sent him rolling into a small ball groaning in agony.

“Do it again and it will be worse hear me?” Draco struggled through the pain and opened his eyes to slits.
“Yes,” he muttered out loud which came out in a croak.
The presence in Draco’s head left him as swiftly as it came. He breathed heavily, rolling his eyes back into his head falling onto his back, cringing at the pain that surged through his muscles.
There, he laid a crumpled mess.

Four hours, Hermione waited. She chewed her nails, Draco should have been back from the music rooms, he couldn’t have been up there for long.
At first, she didn’t fret but now, it’s just gone too far.
She looked up at the grandfather clock, it’s hands falling on the twelve and the six. Hermione tapped her foot against the hard wooden floor. She had changed into her pyjamas a while ago after having a shower and just sat waiting for Draco to return so she could have someone to talk to.

She – Hermione found herself relying on Draco a lot in the common room for company, to her surprise he didn’t seem as vulgar as he would normally seem, only for the rude remark every so often.
She scratched the back of her head, he had really started to become quite nice over the past week. It may of taken him four weeks to do so but he had really came along in her books, maybe he had finally got over the bickering side of things and accepted there was more to life than fighting.

She tapped her fingers against the lounge in a small beat.
“Argh, where is he?” she muttered.
She then stood up, sighing, and walked up around the back of the lounge grabbing the creamy blanket that she hung over her shoulders to avoid the freezing cold wind outside.

She opened the portrait hole and turned around, closing it softly, glancing at the picture of the Phoenix and the Snake. She noted that the Phoenix had its wings raised and it head turning from side to side as if searching while the Snake was curled down at the bottom of the portrait on the ground.

Hermione then took off up the stairs feeling the cold wind brush past her. She looked around screwing her nose up wondering whether Harry and Ron were sneaking around anywhere in a hurry. She smirked and kept going up.

The top of the Staircase held a great cool breeze as Hermione held the blanket tighter around herself blocking the fresh breeze. Her teeth chattered slightly causing her to bit her lip stopping the urge to keep doing it.
The hall was dark and eerie, Hermione swallowed while walking past the gargoyles whose eyes seemed dark and hollow as they followed her down the hall.
Why the hell was she doing this?

The door around the corner was closed. She stopped in front of it crossing her arms, he had obviously left, then. Walking forward, she pulled the iron handle unlocking the door which she walked into the cold darkness, her Ugg boot slippers clicked against the timber floor as she walked into the darkness.
She sighed as she looked to the window noticing it still open, widely now since the window thrashing around outside blew it open.
“Draco,” she muttered irritably, walking over and pulling the cold glass window closed, shivering slightly after.
As she turned around, she noticed a wand sitting on top of the piano not so far away. Trotting over, she silently slipped it off, twirling it between her fingers, she noted the type. It was fairly long, a light coloured wood with a spiral going up the handle – she didn’t recognise it.

With the absence of her own wand, she pointed it “Lumos”
The wand’s tip lit up and she turned back around noting how bright it shined even in her hand, she raised her eyebrows then started towards to the door, till she felt a jerk.
Hermione stopped and looked down at the wand, which started tugging in her hand to her right.
“Ok, ok,” she whispered, turning her eyes scanning the ground and there, she saw a crumpled mess, with blonde hair scattered at the top.
“Draco,” she gasped, dropping the wand.

Authors Notes:  Hello my darlings, time has come, part 7.
But I am here to say, that I may be taking a bit of a break, only for like a few weeks since I have my School Certificate is coming up, I'll probably be writing when ever I can, but just so you don't fret and think I've abandoned you all - I haven't, believe me.
I love this story and its fans too much.

PS: I'm writing a short story for you guys that will be about 5 chapters long. So I haven't been completely lazy while I've been studying. I've been writing that. Be proud =D

Take care.

- Kase

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