Hermione looked over at her body, covered in cuts and bruises, that was lying in the hospital bed. 'At least I'm alive,' she thought.
Then a sudden realization dawned over her. "The dream was real," Hermione whispered so quietly that Draco Malfoy, who was only a foot away from Hermione, could barely hear her.
Malfoy looked between Hermione's body and Hermione's sort-of ghost with his face frozen by shock. He quickly regained his composure.
“All right, Granger, what the hell is up?” he snarled. “Madam Pomfrey walking through you, and not noticing you? Not to mention two of you, really, one was bad enough,” questioned Draco, not forgetting to insult Hermione while during so.
“Well, seeing as you're the only one who can see or hear me, I might as well tell you what I know, Malfoy. I had a dream last night, about Voldemort performing the Cruciatus curse on me until I woke up. Since my body is all scraped up and there's two of me, I think it means my dream was real,” Hermione explained, and then went on. “We need to go to the library.”
“Excuse me?” Malfoy asked, not believing what he was hearing. “What do you mean, 'we'? You can go by yourself and read the whole library for all I care.”
Hermione shot him a glare, and stated, as if she were explaining this to a three-year-old, ”I. Can't. Touch. Anything. That includes books. You don't have to help research, just get the books and turn the pages.”
“And why would I do that? What's in it for me?” Malfoy asked, smirking.
Hermione thought quickly and managed to imitate Malfoy’s smirk incredibly well. “If you haven’t noticed, you're the only one who can see or hear me.”
Malfoy gave her a look. “So...”
Hermione continued. “Let's just say that you won't be alone until you help me, and what you hear may irk you slightly. It doesn't even matter if you try to hit me or knock me out because no one can touch me.”
Hermione smirked as she saw Malfoy dumbfounded. It was a quite amusing face, but, unfortunately, Malfoy was able to regain his composure rather quickly.
“I will never help a Mudblood,” Malfoy stated coldly.
Hermione chuckled and said with the utmost determination, “We'll see how true that is soon. I don't think you'll last a week with me bothering you.”
Hearing Malfoy talking somewhat loudly, Madam Pomfrey came out to check on him. She saw him arguing with nobody, and Hermione Granger's curtains were open. No one was supposed to know about her. She rushed out as fast as she could.
“Mr. Malfoy! What are you doing! Who are you arguing with? And why are Miss Granger's curtain open?” Madam Pomfrey asked, urgently.
Malfoy looked up and his eyes widened. He could only think of one thing to get out of this sticky situation. Malfoy closed his eyes and let his body collapse on the floor.
Madam Pomfrey ran over to him and tried to gently wake him up. “Come on, Mister Malfoy, come on now! Please, wake up,” she begged the ‘unconscious’ Malfoy.
Malfoy finally ‘woke up’ after five minutes, by which time he was thoroughly tired of being shaken and just pretended that he couldn’t remember anything. After he drank the potion he had been given, Malfoy insisted he was fine and was just going to sleep for a while. Madam Pomfrey left the room as Malfoy started to try and go to sleep. But this simple task was made harder because the entire time Hermione was talking non-stop.
As soon as Madam Pomfrey left, Malfoy yelled quietly at Hermione (quietly enough not to get Madam Pomfrey’s attention), “What the hell is wrong with you, Mudblood?”
Hermione replied, very pleased with herself for being able to see such progress already, "I’m just giving you a taste of what you will experience until you decide to help me.”
Malfoy glared at Hermione as if trying to make her head explode.
Hermione just grinned and thought happily:
‘Wow, this is effective. I've only been annoying him for five minutes and he is almost ready to crack.’
Malfoy, who was extremely annoyed at Hermione, decided to actually go to sleep. However, the second he started to drift off to sleep, Hermione started yelling what sounded like gibberish.
Malfoy’s eyes shot wide open. Hermione was listing all the ingredients in a Polyjuice potion and the instructions for the preperation. Malfoy glared at her, and, once she was in arm’s reach, he tried to punch her. His fist went right through her body. At this, Hermione laughed.
"I will annoy you until you help me,” Hermione stated, quite pleased at how well her plan was working.
“You can't get to me that easily, Mudblood,” Malfoy said, determined not to show how much he was already annoyed with her.
He grabbed his wand and performed a Silencing Charm on her, or so he hoped. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
“You think that a spell will hit me when nothing else touches me?” Hermione asked, looking at him, smiling rather too cockily (or so Draco thought), with her hands on her hips.
Malfoy glared at her again and replied, “It was worth a shot. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go to sleep.”
Hermione decided not to wake him up again until after he had fallen asleep because it made for greater annoyance (and anger) on Malfoy’s part if she woke him up after just falling asleep than just keeping him awake. She looked around, trying to decide what to do. When she saw the curtains surrounding her bed, an idea hit her.
Hermione rushed over to her bed and walked through the curtains. She saw her body, and thought that she was just happy Voldemort didn't have Harry, and that she was alive, if barely. She took a deep breath and carried on with her plan. She laid down in her body for a moment, then sat up.
“I hope this works,” Hermione whispered.
She closed her eyes and turned around. Hermione counted to three silently before opening her eyes. Her heart filled with disappointment. Hermione hoped that by lying in her body, her spirit would become one with her body again, but it hadn’t worked.
‘I guess I’ll just have to bother Draco until he helps me,’ Hermione thought desperately. Then with a sudden flash of humour, she thought, ‘actually, this could be rather fun. What other time could I bother him with no consequences?’
At this thought, she perked up. If she really needed to, Hermione knew just what to think to make herself feel better, if only a little. Sometimes, she’d have busied herself with a book, which she couldn’t do.
Hermione got up, walked over, and sat on the bed next to Draco’s. She saw he was fast asleep. Right before waking him up, she decided to study the face of the boy who almost killed Dumbledore. Harry had told her everything, including his own theory that Malfoy wouldn’t have killed Dumbledore if Maligo didn’t come in. Malfoy was still as arrogant as ever, but he did join the Order, even if it was with many objections to being in the same house as Harry, Hermione, and Ron.
Even though he was on their side, he acted like nothing had changed, especially with his fellow Slytherins. Because Malfoy’s behaviour towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn’t change, they didn’t change their dislike or enmity towards him.
‘That figures,’ Hermione thought to herself, looking at Malfoy’s expression. ‘He even smirks in his sleep.' And then, with a sudden decisiveness, ‘Time to wake up that git Malfoy.’
“Malfoy! Malfoy! Wake up!” Hermione yelled. Then she said everything she knew about trolls, including a history and their position in the magical community now and at various times in history.
Malfoy woke up, startled and furious.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Granger? Let me sleep!” Malfoy yelled, with complete hatred for the witch who wouldn't let him sleep. It was not entirely his fault that he was so irritated: without sleep, all Malfoys became very grumpy without, so Draco just blamed it on genetics.
Hermione smiled at him serenly and told him, yet again, “I will let you sleep, but only if you help me.”
Malfoy glared at her, but didn’t say anything because he saw Madam Pomfrey walking through the door after hearing him yelling.
Madam Pomfrey looked at him, concerned, and asked, "Are you all right?”
Malfoy replied quickly, “I'm fine, just having trouble sleeping.”
Madam Pomfrey asked kindly, “Would you like a sleeping drought, dear?”
Malfoy answered, smirking in Hermione’s direction, ”Yes, please.”
Madam Pomfrey gave Malfoy a sleeping drought and he fell immediately into a dreamless sleep. Hermione knew it would be hopeless to try and wake him, so she decided to sleep herself. She would need to be well rested to annoy Malfoy all day tomorrow.
Malfoy woke first. He saw the light streaming in through the window. ‘What a weird dream,’ Malfoy thought to himself. ‘Why would I dream about Granger of all people?’
Deciding to shake off the horrible nightmare he had, Malfoy sat up, not feeling sore at all. The disgusting potion was worth it. Malfoy stretched his arms and looked over to the left. He nearly fell out of the bed with shock. Sleeping in the bed next to him was the bookworm herself; her hair even frizzier than before, if that was possible. She was sleeping peacefully, but he knew that things were going to be very unpleasant when she awoke. As quietly as possible, he got dressed in his robes, and tiptoed over to the medi-witch. She told him he was free to go, so he quietly left the Hospital Wing, and ran as fast as he could to the dungeons. Once he was safely in his common room, he wanted to take a shower and change into fresh robes.
Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. She was on her side, facing to her right, where she saw an empty bed. ‘No!’ Hermione thought. ‘He’s already left!’ Frowning, she slowly got up, still a little sleepy. Once she had fully woken up, she went through the closed door (which still freaked her out a little, as she was still afraid that she would hit the door instead of going through it). Hermione walked through the castle and tried to figure out where Malfoy would have gone, and how long he had been gone. She decided her best bet would be to go to the Great Hall, for he would have to eat eventually. She walked into the Great Hall and started for the Gryffindor table. ‘No,’ Hermione reprimanded herself sternly; ‘You have to go to the Slytherin table to annoy Malfoy so you can eat with your friends.’She changed her direction and headed over to the Slytherin table. She didn’t see Malfoy, and so she waited. Hermione stared at the doors to the Great Hall for what seemed like ages. But after fifteen minutes of patient waiting, he walked through. He didn’t see her (yet) so he sat down with his cronies.
Hermione slid through the five people that separated her from Malfoy. His eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. Hermione smiled.
“You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” she asked, smiling.
Malfoy merely ignored her. He knew if he answered, he would get some strange looks.
Pansy Parkinson walked into the Great Hall. She saw her precious Drakey-poo and knew he missed her company, so went over to him quickly. She sat down right on top of Hermione, which Malfoy laughed at, but turned it into a coughing fit when Pansy looked at him strangely. Hermione quickly slid over to the left of Pansy, disgusted that she was even that close to her.
At this, Pansy asked in a voice dipped in sugar (at least she thought so), “Are you okay Drakey-poo?”
At hearing this, Hermione burst into a fit of laughter.
“Drakey-poo?” Hermione asked in disbelief at such a ridiculous nickname.
Malfoy glowered, then glared at Pansy and told her in a tone that would have made hell itself freeze over, “Never call me that again, Parkinson.”
Clearly afraid, Pansy replied, shamefully, “I'm sorry, Draco, I forgot.” She hung her head.
Hermione couldn't believe this. “Imagine that,” Hermione spoke loudly, “Pug-faced Parkinson can actually get uglier by sticking her fat lip out. She looks even more pug-like than usual!”
Malfoy started laughing loudly at this, mostly because it was true. He received several looks of confusion from other members at the Slytherin table. Most must’ve been thinking he had hit his head when he fell.
Potions was starting soon, and Malfoy wasn't going to be late. He grabbed his book bag and headed toward the dungeons with Hermione following behind, yelling different levitating charms and their techniques.
Malfoy walked faster, but Hermione stayed in step, eternally persistent. Malfoy walked into the Potions room and sat at the table closest to the Professor’s desk. After all, he was teacher's pet (in this class, anyway). Hermione frowned when she saw Harry and Ron walk in together, talking about Quidditch, as usual. She felt tears that wanted to come out. She blinked them back. She would not cry, even if her friends seemed to have gotten over the fact that she was unconscious in the Hospital Wing. She had to focus, to reunite her soul and body. While she was thinking about all this, Professor Maligio walked in and the room fell silent for he was even crueller than Professor Snape, although he seemed to take a similar liking to Malfoy and similar distaste to Harry. However, Professor Maligo did not have the same grease problem as Snape, and he was actually quite handsome, when his face wasn’t scrunched up like he had been sucking on a lemon, which it unfortunately usually was.
Professor Maligo assigned the class to make a Draught of Living Death, individually. With a wave of his wand, the instructions appeared on the board. Malfoy immediately started. Hermione watched him.
“You're doing that wrong, you know,” Hermione informed Malfoy.
“What, exactly?” Malfoy asked under his breath, as not to raise suspicions of his sanity.
“You’re slicing the sopohorous beans, while you should be getting the juice out of them,” Hermione told him, fully living up to her know-it-all reputation.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, but ended up squishing the beans to get the juice. Later on, when he was stirring, Hermione interrupted him again.
“You're doing it wrong again,” she told him.
“What am I doing wrong now?” Malfoy asked, annoyed and forgetting to lower his voice, for which a couple of people looked at him oddly.
“You're stirring clockwise, instead of counterclockwise, which is why your steam is green instead of blue,” Hermione informed him.
He again followed her directions, still agitated that he was wrong and she was right.
“You forgot something,” Hermione chimed in less than five minutes later.
“What?” Malfoy asked through gritted teeth, he was extremely annoyed at her correcting him every five seconds. Several students around him looked at the angry Malfoy, wondering what was wrong with him.
“You forgot to add the lovage. If you look at your potion, you should see a black currant colour, getting slightly lighter due to stirring, but yours is a forest green. If you add the lovage now, it will turn out fine,” Hermione informed him smugly. He didn't seem to be able to do any of the potion correctly.
Grudgingly, Malfoy did what Hermione told him. When he finished (or so he thought), his potion was a very light shade of lilac that was transparent.
When he stopped stirring, Hermione asked, “Why did you stop?
Malfoy replied, quietly, “I'm done.”
Hermione laughed and said, “Does that look like water?”
Confused, Malfoy replied slightly louder, “No…why?”
“Because,” Hermione explained, “when the Draught of Living Death is finished, it is meant to be as 'clear as water', so continue stirring.”
Malfoy was really being pushed to the brink by Hermione's badgering and constant corrections. He yelled at her in frustration, “Fine!” He then started stirring roughly, sloshing his potion everywhere.
When Malfoy yelled, everyone in the class, including Maligo, stared at him, wondering what was wrong with the blonde Slytherin. The wonder increased when he started madly stirring the potion.
“Mister Malfoy,” Maligo called, “Come with me into the hall.”
When Professor Maligo addressed him, Malfoy realized that he had yelled at Hermione, when no one but him could see her. When he walked out, Hermione, of course, followed.
Maligo looked at his favourite Slytherin with concern and asked, “What's wrong, Draco?”
Malfoy knew he couldn't tell Maligo, so he lied (something he was very good at), “Nothing, Professor.”
“Then why did you yell ‘fine'?” Maligo asked, his face scrunched up.
Malfoy was not expecting this question and made up a not very good lie to try and cover it. "Because I was arguing with myself as to whether I should hand in my potion now, or to perfect it. I decided on perfecting it, and I didn't realize that I said anything aloud.”
“I'm sure he'll believe that,” Hermione commented sarcastically.
“Shut up, Granger!” Malfoy yelled.
Maligo stared at Malfoy, worried, and asked, “Draco, why did you yell at Granger when she isn't even here?”
Malfoy had forgotten again that no one but him could see her. However, even he couldn't think of something to cover up this one.
Maligo suggested, “You should go to the Hospital Wing.”
Malfoy went back in the classroom, gathered his things, and then went to walk the halls, instead of going to the Hospital Wing as he had been instructed.
“What's wrong, Drakey-poo?” Hermione asked, in fake concern.
Draco stopped walking.
“If I agree to help you, will you leave me alone?” Draco asked suddenly.
“Yes,” Hermione answered simply.
“Fine,” Malfoy told her. “I will help you.”
The Only One Who Could See Her by Kattelena Riana
Chapter Notes: Sorry for the long wait. This capter has been rejected at least 15 times. Hopefully it will go through this time. Thanks to all my betas, kathyhermy123, no_day_but_today, and james_fanatic. Thanks so much for reading, enjoy!