WARNING: Contains foul language (courtesy of Ron of course! :o) lol)
Draco’s bleary eyes blinked open as the dimly lit room slid into focus after a second or so of spinning tauntingly around his head. He lay there in that comfortable bed in a daze, dully asking himself the same questions over and over again.
Where the hell am I?
What happened?
Why am I here?
Over and over these thoughts bombarded his mind as he lay peacefully in the bed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that he wasn’t going to figure out unless he got up.
Draco groaned slightly and lifted his sore, aching body away from the warm, soft bed and lifted his head to survey his surrounding. A burning, intense throbbing pain darted up his legs and spread like wildfire throughout his body. Stifling his screams of torture he sank back into the safety of the warm white sheets.
The burning pain and ripped him brutally out of his confused daze and dropped him carelessly onto the ice cold floors of reality.
Memories came flooding back to him torrentially.
The excruciating pain…running away from the Death Eater’s cave…and dear God what would we he give to perform occlumency on himself right now.
…her back was arched gracefully…the expression on her face shocked…
NO!
He would not remember…not now…
He had more pressing issues to deal with. He slowly glanced up dreading what he would see.
A flash of shocking red hair…a whip of bushy brown hair…
Damn it all to bloodly hell. He was in the house with his worst enemies.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and fell back on to the bed, telling himself dishonestly that this was just a nightmare.
A horrible, dreadful nightmare.
Hermione woke up suddenly, unwilling to let go of the wondrously deep sleep that she had been so grateful to fall into.
Something, though, pulled her eyelids open, with a tingling prickle and it felt as though if she did not comply, doom would await.
Slowly, groggily she blinked her eyes open and looked directly ahead.
Even before she opened her eyes, she knew from that familiar, ominous sense of foreboding near her heart that something was not right.
Even so, she had to muffle her instinctive scream when she fully grasped he situation before her.
Directly in front of her, tangled up in a mess of white sheets and bandages, lay Draco Malfoy, apparently asleep. He was her worst childhood enemy, and the top person on her Most Hated list. He was so bound in bandages that the little skin that had escaped her fusillade of nursing instinct the night before was brilliantly flushed and glistening with perspiration.
“What the fucking hell?”
She pushed the barrage of questions regarding Malfoy’s surprise appearance to the back of her mind as the two people sprawled on either side of her caught her attention.
Ron and Harry had seemingly been awake as long as she had, judging from there disheveled and distraught appearances.
“Why the hell is that bastard ferret face sleeping in the same damn room as I am?”
At this point Ron emitted a slur of profane language that would be best if left unrepeated.
Harry, who had been wide awake, instead of collapsed unconscious on the sofa like Ron, the night previous to his morning, was still staring fervently at Malfoy’s face.
Hermione, instead of reprimanding Ron’s diarrhea of the mouth as she usually would have done sat down beside him and began to patiently explain the series of events that had happened the night before in answer to Ron’s questions.
Shakily she said,” Well…um…yesterday I was studying, see….when I had this really strange dream about Fawkes and Dumbledore …..and erm….when I woke up…I er….”
“Are you gonna answer the damn question or not?”
Harry’s hoarse, voice rang through the room for the first time.
“I was reading something really important from that book Dung snitched from the ministry,” Hermione continued her voice defiant at Harry’s rude outburst.
“I’m not exactly sure…I think it had something to do with (here Hermione lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper) RAB !”
Ron and Harry both made quick movements as their bodies stiffened into an upright position, intently hanging on to every word Hermione was saying.
“I was just about to call you and he apparated to the room!” She directed a meaningful glance at Malfoy.
“He was bleeding everywhere and …I think he was d-dying…”
Hermione broke off shakily.
Malfoy twitched convulsively, before quickly lying still.
“Bloody hell, Hermione, why’d you take him in?” said Ron tetchily, his freckled face rather flustered.
“I told you,” said Hermione, incensed. “He was dying, I fixed him up. What else was I supposed to do?”
Ron twitched spastically, as Malfoy had done moments before, demonstrating that he had many other options that didn’t involve any empathy or compassion, whatsoever.
“He would have died!” said Hermione. She could feel the color rising in her cheeks.
Ron was her best friend, but he was so infuriatingly ignorant sometimes.
“So?” said Ron, as if this was an extremely favorable option. “He’s a Death Eater.” Ron’s scowl deepened. “He tried to””
“I know what he’s tried to do,” said Hermione, cutting him off moodily. “I just…I mean, I couldn’t…”
“For someone so smart, you’re awfully stupid sometimes,” said Ron harshly. “I can’t believe”” Hermione flushed, furious.
“Well that’s just fine, Ron!” she shouted angrily. “Let’s just let people we don’t like die! If we do that”I mean”then”what is it that separates us from the Death Eaters anyway?”
Ron quickly shut his mouth, his face now as red as hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Harry turned his head from looking out the window as something broke the silence broke the silence.
“The Mudblood isn’t lying.” Draco’s cool drawl echoed through the brief pause, with no hint of pain or discomfort.
“I don’t trust him,” said Ron finally, stubbornly crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair. “He’s probably trying to trick us.”
“I suppose that’s a possibility,” said Harry, casting a shrewd glance towards Draco. He frowned. “Which does beg the question… just what the hell do we do with him?”
“We could carve his heart out with those spork things that Hermione’s got…I swear those things aren’t meant to be used for cutlery…or we could transfigure him into a ferret (he put quite a great deal of emphasis on the word) put him on Harry’s Firebolt, and chuck him in the middle of the sea!” said Ron brightly.
“No one’s asked for your opinion, Weasel, no one ever has,” sneered Malfoy.
“Shut up Malfoy, the way I see it just because we’re the good guys doesn’t mean we can’t be bad sometimes.” Harry’s icy tone sounded like he meant business.
“Hmph…your Mudblood wouldn’t let you lay a finger on me…”
In less then a second two wands were pressed hard against Malfoy’s throat.
“Never,” hissed Harry, so that it very nearly could be mistaken for parseltongue, “call Hermione a mudblood in my presence, again.”
“And just because she won’t let us lay a finger on you,” continued Ron “doesn’t mean we always listen to her…”
“SILENCIO!” cried Harry.
Billowing silence.
Hermione said quietly, “I’m hungry…it’s long past breakfast time anyhow…”
Harry and Ron backed away from Malfoy’s side, never once breaking eye contact, never once laying down their wands.
“What should we feed ferret ass over here, we can’t starve him…” Harry asked.
“I dunno let’s chuck him some leftover soup or something.” Hermione said. “we’ve still got it from last night.”
“Or we could just starve him,” said Ron hopefully. Everyone ignored him.
Hermione emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes, carrying a steaming mug.
“Do you want the soup?” She offered Malfoy the steaming mug.
Malfoy looked at it. The thought of the dirty veined Mudblood feeding him something that she had prepared with her bare, filthy hands was absolutely repulsive to him.
Even worse was thought that Scarface and Weasel King hand been at it with their disgustingly obscene ways of feeding…it was almost animalistic.
Malfoy shuddered Still…he was absolutely starving, and he doubted the boys would be quite as generous in the distribution of food when Hermione went away.
He couldn’t answer her question, bloody Pothead’s silencing charm was still kicking.
“Finite Incantatem.” Hermione said.
“Well, do you want it or not?”
“Fine, give it here…”
“Umm, Malfoy, both you arm’s are broken, so do you need any help?”
Dammit. The mudblood was offering to feed him…still he didn’t deny his perfect looks, his amazing body, his brilliance…his fantastic performance on the fields, his genius magical ability…but feeding your significant other was definitely second date.
Malfoy grinned lewdly in spite of himself. Unfortunately Hermione was still watching him…
“Ugh…pervert …”
Hermione stalked back into the Kitchen, where Ron and Harry had taken to wolfing down mountains of food.
“WAIT! Mud-Granger…I mean HERMIONE!” Malfoy cried desperately. “I need help!”
Hermione gave him a burning, furious glance, as though contemplating the situation before her Gryffindor conscious got the better of her and she strode over to his side.
To Be Continued...
A/N: See...not QUITE as evil a cliffies as the last time...=)Please Review...you know you want to!
Thanks again to my fantastic BETA: SilverQuill92!!
She's a doll!
lILLY!
xo
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