Bad Medicine

Chapter Fourteen

Hermione stared blearily at Harry, quite unable to comprehend his question. He sat across from her in the Gryffindor common room, which was empty but for the two of them. He had sent Ron off on an errand to the kitchen to fetch Hermione breakfast, which she'd missed by lolling in bed half the morning. The other Gryffindors were outside enjoying the snow that still clung to the ground from a dumping three days prior.

"Who is he?" Harry repeated.

"I've no idea what you're talking about." Hermione sniffed and took a gulp of her hot cocoa. She winced as it burned her tongue.

"You're a wretched liar," Harry observed. "I saw you this morning sneaking the Marauder's Map back into my trunk. Where did you go?"

For once in her life, Hermione was speechless. She was also exhausted. She and Draco had managed not to snog the entire night, though her lips felt like they had. Just when she would begin to lose all semblance of control, Draco would pull back, stalk far out of reach, and they would discuss trivial subjects until both could breathe normally again. Neither was quite willing to cross that barrier, as their relationship was far too fragile as it was. They had retired to what they had dubbed the Music Room and spent most of the night listening to songs, dancing, or sitting on the couch huddled together while they talked about various Gryffindors or Slytherins. It was the first time Hermione remembered actually talking with him and was pleasantly surprised to discover there was a lot more to Draco Malfoy than met the eye.

She could not, of course, admit that to Harry Potter. Especially when he glared at her like he was now.

"Erm..."

"Come on, Hermione, after all we've been through? Trolls. Basilisks. Trelawney. You know all about my Cho Chang fiasco and you had that little fling with Viktor Krum last year... Who could possibly be worse than him? It has to be a Ravenclaw, they're the only ones smart enough for you... Terry Boot? Eddie Carmichael? Chambers?"

She glared at him stonily.

"Hufflepuffs, then? Can't be Cedric Diggory, since, you know, the Cho thing... Wayne Hopkins? Zacharias Smith?" Harry made a face at that. "No, not Smith. You don't plan to tell me, do you?"

"Are you going to name everyone in the school?" she asked mildly.

"Well, it can't be a Slytherin. Unless it's Blaise Zabini, some girls say he's handsome..."

"He hates muggleborns," she reminded him.

"Don't they all? How about Miles Bletchley, he's not as bad as some of those Slytherins..."

"No," she said firmly.

Harry sat back with an explosive sigh. "Fine! Don't tell me then! I suppose I don't care anyway, as long as it's not Draco Malfoy--"

Hermione choked on her hot chocolate and was horrified to find her cheeks growing hot. She glanced at Harry guiltily to find his face pale as a ghost.

"You. Have. Got. To. Be. Joking," he choked out.

She swallowed hard and looked at him miserably. She shook her head.

Harry leaped to his feet. His green eyes flashed emerald rage.

"HOW THE HELL CAN YOU BE SEEING DRACO MALFOY?" he bellowed. "ARE YOU COMPLETELY MENTAL?"

She stood up and gripped her mug so tightly she thought it would shatter.

"Why don't you just announce it to the entire school?" she yelled.

"WHY DON'T YOU IF YOU'RE SO KEEN ON THE HORRIBLE LITTLE DEATH EATER WANNABE?" Harry hollered. Hermione suddenly wanted to hit him. She'd known he would take it like this, which was why she had never planned to tell him.

"Frankly, Harry, it's none of your damned business," she snapped haughtily. He reacted as though she had slapped him. He gasped and stared at her with a look of pure astonishment before his brows lowered in a furious glare. He nodded abruptly.

"You're right," he said in a voice that shook with rage. "None of my business. Just remember, if you shut me out now, no one will be there to pick up the pieces when he crushes your heart in his cold little fist."

Ron chose that moment to enter the common room with a plate piled high with pastries and fruit. He stopped at gaped at them. The air crackled with tension. Harry pushed past him and stormed out of the room. Hermione sagged onto the couch in despair.

"Did I miss something?" Ron asked in puzzlement.

Harry felt like a complete idiot for not having noticed it sooner. Now that he knew, the secretive interaction between Hermione and Draco Malfoy was like a subtle game known only to them. Harry watched them surreptitiously as he played a game of wizard's chess with Ron. Harry wasn't speaking to Hermione and refused to tell Ron why, so Ron was getting revenge by slaughtering Harry on the chess board.

A few Slytherins sat at a table in the library, defacing books and giggling just quietly enough to keep from being thrown out. Draco sat next to Pansy Parkinson and seemed to be quite absorbed in a large book.

Hermione sat with Neville and Ginny Weasley at a nearby table. As Harry watched, Hermione picked up the copy of Advanced Transfiguration she had been reading (even though Harry knew she had her own copy in her room) and carried it around the corner. She returned with Dangerous Draughts of Doom and sat down.

About five minutes later, Malfoy got up and disappeared into the shelves. He returned empty-handed a moment later. Harry was willing to wager he had a piece of parchment stuffed into a pocket with Hermione's handwriting on it. As he passed Hermione, Draco muttered, "Nasty mudblood."

Hermione replied, "Pureblood pig."

But when Draco sat down, Harry noticed an amused smiled playing about his lips. Hermione coughed and covered her mouth with a hand. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. Harry had the distinct impression that the insults were now code words for endearments. He couldn't quite wrap his brain around the fact that Draco Malfoy was actually seeing Hermione. Secretly, but willingly.

Pansy Parkinson suddenly stood up, gathered her things, and stormed from the room. Hermione looked at Draco in astonishment. He moved his shoulders in the slightest hint of a shrug and the usual sardonic smirk twisted his mouth. Hermione bit her lip and looked at Harry. Harry rolled his eyes. He glanced at Malfoy again to find the Slytherin staring at him suspiciously. Harry glared. Malfoy sneered.

"Are you going to move or not?" Ron demanded suddenly.

"Not," Harry decided. "Let's get out of here. All this silent communication is driving me crazy."

Hermione was perched on a divan in a semi-deserted corridor with her Ancient Runes textbook propped on her lap. Behind her loomed a huge statue of Bridget Winlock, a famous Arithmancer, tucked into a large niche behind the divan. Lying on his back next to Bridget's stone skirts was Draco Malfoy. He was invisible to passersby due to the iron scrollwork around the base of the statue that completely hid him from view. It was one of the few places in the school where they could converse without being discovered.

"...thinking about staying here for Christmas although Mother would probably go into a complete panic thinking I didn't love her any more," Draco was saying. "It's bloody cold in this alcove today."

"Want me to climb up there and warm you up?" she asked teasingly.

"I've asked you six times already."

Hermione giggled. "I know if I do, when I come out I'll look like I've been hit with a whirlwind charm."

"It's not my fault you can't manage to keep your clothes on around me."

She gasped in outrage. "Of course it's your fault!"

A first-year Hufflepuff walked by and looked at her curiously. Hermione smiled as though it were perfectly normal for her to be seen talking to herself. She heard a slight rustle and knew Draco had rolled over onto his stomach.

"I'm really cold, Mi," he said plaintively. She groaned. He had to be lying. She knew damned well he never got cold. His body temperature seemed to be several degrees above normal. At least, his skin always felt hot to her. She shivered and set the book aside. Before she could move, she spotted Harry approaching.

"Diffindo," she said quietly, the signal for Draco to be silent. She expected Harry to walk past her without acknowledgment, since he was still enraged, but to her surprise he stopped in front of her. His green eyes moved about suspiciously.

"Odd place to study," he commented.

"It's a bit cold in the Gryffindor common room these days," she said flatly.

"Well, it would be, wouldn't it?" he snapped.

"Did you just stop to yell at me some more?" she asked. Harry tugged at his black hair.

"No. I wanted to tell you that... well, you already know what you're doing is stupid... and I won't pretend to approve..."

She waited, knowing Harry had a bloody difficult time getting his point across when he was agitated. He yanked his hair again, though it was already sticking out in a dozen directions.

"Damn it, what I mean to say is I was wrong before. About not being there for you. Because I will. No matter what happens." He took a deep breath. "There. I've said it. All right?"

Hermione nearly knocked him over with an exuberant hug. Tears sparkled in her eyes. She swallowed hard.

"I love you, Harry," she murmured so only he could hear. "You're the best friend ever."

Harry patted her back awkwardly and coughed. "Yes, well, just be bloody careful. And if you need me to... Crucio anyone... well, just call." She released him and he grinned ruefully and left. She gazed after him fondly for a moment.

"Potter knows, doesn't he?"

She nodded.

Draco said, "Yes, I caught the Crucio reference. I'm sure he'd be only too willing to turn me into a tiny pile of ash for you."

"Well, you'll just have to be nice to me then, won't you?"

"I'm not afraid of Potter," he scoffed. "But if you come here and warm me up, I'll show you how nice I can be."

She went.