Claiming Hermione

Draco stood heavily from his desk in HCR and walked to the darkened window. He checked his watch – 11:50 – and leaned against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared out at the black vacuum of space that was the lake. There was no moon visible and the grounds were thrown into dense shadow. His eyes scanned the path from the castle to the greenhouses, searching for signs of the Head Girl and Neville on their patrol, just as he had done two nights ago.

He was rankled by the whole situation. It was stupid. It was a misunderstanding, but he couldn’t very well tell her that. It’s not like he could say, “Oh, Granger, I didn’t mean it. I was just trying to get Blaise to shut up. Trust me, I have no problem thinking of you naked.” He imagined himself wagging his eyebrows at her like the muggle actor Groucho Marx and shook his head.

Draco shifted his weight and sighed, squinting into the darkness. He had not seen her in their common room since that Tuesday morning. In fact, outside of classes, the only place he’d seen her was the Great Hall during meals. He tried making eye contact with her, though he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she actually looked at him. Which she didn’t.

What she did do was leave him a note saying that they didn’t need to meet on Thursday since everything was going smoothly. She informed him that she would be covering Millicent Bulstrode’s patrol on Tuesday and Thursday evening since the girl was lying in the hospital wing recovering from Potions homework gone awry.

Draco shifted again and checked his watch. Come on you guys. Where are you? He spoke aloud to himself. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason, but the room felt weird without her in it. It wasn’t empty, but rather it felt heavier. He felt a little like he was being watched, like there was an unseen presence in the room, hiding in the drapes maybe. He shrugged it off as paranoia.

Draco did a thorough search of the grounds while he waited for them to appear. He could barely make out the edge of the lake, the whomping willow in the distance and the entrance to Greenhouse1 and 3. He squinted hard, looking for any abnormal movement, any glint, anything that didn’t belong, but it was an exceptionally dark night and he couldn’t see anything. He felt on edge.

Since Granger had walked in on them Tuesday, Blaise hadn’t said another word about her to Draco. He should have been glad for it, but for some reason it worried him more. Thursday morning found Blaise at the Slytherin table glaring hard at the oblivious girl. Draco watched a muscle twitch in Blaise’s jaw and felt his stomach squirm. Then, as if he had known that Draco had been watching him, he turned to the blonde, gave him an evil grin and raised his glass of pumpkin juice in salutation. Draco hid his uneasiness and nodded back.

Finally! Draco saw two points of pale blue light gently lighting up the path and their smiling faces. First, relief washed over him, but then Draco scowled. Their happy faces made him feel stupid for being concerned. He continued to watch him make their way and scanned the area around them also. He knew Granger was a powerful witch, and she did have Longbottom with her, so it was unlikely that anything would happen, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

The pair made it to the first greenhouse and paused at the door. Granger was pointing to the other greenhouse and Neville nodding. No, don’t. Stay with her Longbottom. Don’t be stupid Granger. Fuck! Neville walked away and Granger opened the large glass door.

As his fast stride took him to the main hall, Draco had to mentally talk himself out of panic. He knew he was being ridiculous. Blaise probably didn’t even know she was patrolling, since it was supposed to be Bulstrode’s route. But he couldn’t help it. The gleam in Blaise’s eye that morning had set him on edge and now he was just barely not running. He wanted to shake her for being so stupid!

Without his cloak, he could feel the breeze off the lake hit his face and seep though his shirt. When the greenhouses came into sight he tried to work out what he was going to do. He could see Granger’s lumos glowing though the condensation covered windows and figured that if she could cast it, she was okay. But it went out.

Draco halted and listened hard. Nothing. He took off at a run. Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! He flung the door open and called her name loudly. Even in his bright lumos he couldn’t see her. Panic set in and he ran through the narrow aisles, demanding that she answer him.

Draco rounded a corner and his stomach dropped. She was lying in the gravel, her wand at her side and a large black snake slithering off her thighs. As soon as the snake was clear of her, Draco pointed his wand and shouted, “Diffindo!” The severed snake twitched once and then stilled. He dropped to his knees, his heart hammering in his chest. He shook her shoulder. “Granger! Granger! Wake up!” Her eyes fluttered open for a second and her head rolled up.

“Draco…” she whispered then winced, pain clearly etched on her face. Her head flopped back to the side and her face relaxed.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! He didn’t know what kind of snake it was and he didn’t know any healing spells that would help anyway. A dark stain on her upper right thigh was seeping through her robe. He ripped his tie off so fast it left his neck burning. For a tenth of a second he considered the impropriety of lifting up the Head Girl’s robes, but then he had the fabric shoved up to her waist. The blood was shiny on her pleated skirt and he hastily folded it up.

“Hang on Granger! You’re going to be all right. Just….hang on!” He lifted her knee to slip his tie under her thigh and then let it drop back. He pulled the green and silver tie very tight around her upper thigh, ignoring that fact that he could see her underwear. She’d probably rather die of the snakebite then know he’d seen her knickers.

Draco shoved his arms under her neck and knees and hoisted her up to look into the wide eyes of Neville Longbottom.

“Malfoy! What...”

“Grab that snake – and the head – and bring it.” He interrupted, indicating the severed snake and maneuvering himself and the unconscious girl around the stunned Gryffindor.

“NOW LONGBOTTOM!” he shouted from the door of the greenhouse.

Draco ran, aware that he was jostling her horribly and not sure that it mattered. Her crazy curls were flying around her face. He could hear Longbottom’s footfalls a little way behind him. He looked down at her, barely illuminated in the dark. Her lips were pale and her breathing was shallow. “Come on, Granger! Please! FUCK!” he pleaded with her, knowing she was unconscious. His legs burned with the speed he was trying to gain. This couldn’t happen. This couldn’t FUCKING happen! “Almost there, Granger!” he told her as he neared the front doors. He used the hand under her knees to wrench the door open and groaned with the effort to keep her from slipping.

He had her head cradled snuggly against his shoulder. He felt her try to take a deep breath and she coughed weekly. He tightened his hold on her. “Shhhhhh” he whispered into her ear. “We’re almost there. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He was consumed by panic. It was his fault. He should have warned her. He knew it and he felt like the guilt was eating his skin off his body. His eyes were damp and he could barely breathe. At the sight of the infirmary door, he willed his aching legs to stretch farther.

He pulled the door open with such force that it slammed against the wall and Madame Pomfrey came running out of her office. Draco knocked into the bed closest to the stunned Mediwitch and dropped Hermione softly onto it. “Snake” was all he could get out between impossibly hard breaths. Madame Pomfrey leapt into action and a moment later, Neville burst in waving the snake parts and panting out as much explanation as he knew. Madame Pomfrey sent Neville to alert McGonagall and shooed Draco from the bed so she could draw the curtain around it. Draco stepped backwards and stared at the white curtain trying to catch his breath. For a moment his anger at being shut out flared, but the rush of blood that tried to go to his face made him dizzy. He needed to sit down before he passed out, so he let himself drop onto his ass right there on the floor. As his breathing slowed, he laid back on the cool stone floor, knees bent and just stared at the ceiling listening to the clip, clip, clip of heels coming toward him.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?” McGonagall’s usually curt voice was tinged with concern as she leaned over him.

“Yes Professor.” He continued to lay there and waited for the inquisition. He had his suspicions, yes, but they were only that. And Blaise was one of his oldest friends. He may have gone off the deep end, but Draco needed to hear it from him first. He plucked at the shirt stuck to his wet torso.

“Minerva. Good, you’re here.”

“How is she Poppy?”

“Unconscious still, but she’s going to be fine. I dare say Mr. Malfoy probably made it here in record time and thankfully, Mr. Longbottom brought in the creature so an antidote will be a snap.” The younger woman replied calmly before turning to Draco as he shakily got to his feet.

“Mr. Malfoy, it’s a very lucky thing you found her when you did. She’s going to be just fine. You may go. I’d wager you could use a good night of sleep.”

Draco nodded and walked back to the common room. He felt like he’d been hit with a jelly legs hex, and when he entered the dark room he threw himself heavily onto the sofa and stared at the cold fireplace.

**************************************************

Hermione groaned. The weak blue light of dawn was invading her dreams and forcing her to wake up. She got up earlier than most students, by nature, but this was ridiculous! It was a lost battle though and she reluctantly opened her eyes. To say that she was confused would be gross understatement. Taking in the hospital wing, her heart gave a soft thud of panic. She knew she’d been patrolling with Neville, she was checking Greenhouse 1 while he was in 3 and then a sharp pain in her leg. She had a fuzzy image of Malfoy kneeling over her that didn’t seem to fit in, and now this, the infirmary.

She sat up and saw a few bottles on the table beside her. She was still in her school robes, but her shoes had been removed. Pulling back the thin white blanket, she examined her leg where she remembered the pain. She ran her fingers over the band of red skin that ran around her leg. On the inside of her upper right thigh was a small square of gauze that she carefully peeled back. She made a face at the ugly purple bruise surrounding two distinct punctures. She removed the bandage since she wasn’t bleeding and smoothed her skirt and robes back over her legs.

“Miss Granger. I’m glad to see you are awake. How are you feeling?” Professor Dumbledore’s voice apparently was chipper no matter what time of day it was.

“I feel fine Professor. Professor…what happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell us, Miss Granger. But, I can tell you that you were bit by a rather poisonous snake last night during your rounds. Do you recall seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Do we... havesnakes here? I mean, I just… I’ve never seen one here before.”

He chuckled. Between Slytherin house, her best friend being a Parselmouth, and the basilisk that petrified her in her second year, he found her statement amusingly ironic. “Yes, Miss Granger, Hogwarts has been home to more than one snake.” His meaning was not lost on the clever witch and she blushed lightly. He reached down and picked up the folded fabric resting on her shoes. Running his thumb over the silver and green stripes, he eyed it thoughtfully. “It’s a good thing, Miss Granger, that some snakes can run as fast as they do.” He handed her the folded fabric with a knowing, kind smile. “Madame Pomfrey has given her permission for you to go back to your dorm, if you’d like. I bet you could get in at least two more hours of sleep before breakfast.”

“Thank you, Professor” she said quietly. He nodded and left her there to wonder.

Hermione fingered the Slytherin tie, wrinkled badly from being knotted tightly both around Draco’s neck and around her thigh. She flushed imagining Malfoy tying it so high on her leg. What was he doing down there anyway? His cruel words flashed in her mind. She wryly wondered if she should return the tie with a pair of sharp sticks. Well, it would be funny, anyway. The comment had hurt her feelings more than she cared to let on, but she was grateful that, while he thought she was ugly, he didn’t want to see her dead. That was something, at least.

She slipped off the cot and stepped into her shoes, pocketing Malfoy’s tie, and made her way to her room. Her path lead her past the HCR and she decided to stop in and get her books so she could go straight to breakfast and then classes after a morning nap.

**************************************************

Hermione had been staring at a sleeping Draco Malfoy for the last twenty minutes. He was lying on his stomach with his shoes still on and his left arm shoved under his head. He looked exhausted and uncharacteristically dirty. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and the sleeves rolled up. There were grey dirt patches at both of his elbows and along the side of his leg. This would be the third time she’d had the opportunity to catch him in such an unguarded state and it felt like she was intruding on his secrets. She wondered about his secrets…

She wanted to hate him, she really did. But she couldn’t. She had simply grown too used to him. He hadn’t called her a mudblood since just after his father had been captured in fifth year. Which isn’t to say that he didn’t continue to throw insults at her indiscriminately. But even those had slowed down drastically and had little bite. It had just gotten old. She figured that when she and Malfoy had been told midway through sixth year that they were up for Head Girl and Boy, they both privately decided to end the feud (as much as possible) and not jeopardize their chances. Even his altercations with her best friends were usually started by Ron. And then there was that thing were he saved her life. So, no, she really couldn’t hate him.

She sighed. The gossip mill at Hogwarts ensured that Ron and Harry would know about her injury first thing. She really needed to get a bit more sleep before she was ready to face them. She stood up and looked again at Malfoy. He had a large smudge of dirt on his neck just above the mussed collar. His collar. She fingered the tie in her pocket as if it was helping her think. She turned quickly to the cubbies, scribbled out a note and left it in his box.

**************************************************

The soft smack of the closing portrait roused Draco and he lifted his head off his improvised pillow, blinking in the morning light streaming through the window. Pin pricks shot through his arm and, sitting up, he shook it out. He looked down at his clothes and rolled his eyes. He stood and stretched his achy body languorously. He gathered his books and the parchment still on his desk. On his way out he grabbed the lone note in his box.

Malfoy,

You look like shit.

Hermione

At the end of her name were two lines and a swoop made a happy face.

Draco smirked. Cheeky wench!



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