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The Prisoner by weasley-malfoy-aficionado

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Chapter Notes: DISCLAIMER: The word says it all, isn't it? ;-)
As the days passed into weeks and weeks into months, Draco found himself seeing more and more of Hermione Granger. She would pass him in the hallways, be present during mealtimes, would stroll around the grounds when he would be doing that or would be there in his corners of the library. In the beginning, he had thought that maybe she had taken to stalking him after that night (at least she hadn’t reported him yet) but he quickly dismissed the notion. He deduced that maybe she had always been around; he must have not noticed her before.

Strangely enough, he found himself getting used to her presence. Numerous times he would catch himself subconsciously scanning the throng of students for her unmistakably bushy hair. He had never tried to initiate any sort of conversation with her (Merlin forbid if that though ever crossed his mind). Just her presence was enough. It pierced through his loneliness. With each passing day, he found himself gaining his usual confidence. He was even able to crack some jokes like old times to shake off the suspicions of his friends. She had managed to penetrate his cocoon.

But what was disturbing him at the moment was the fact that he had not yet received any sort of correspondence from his mother. That worry was eating at him. Several times he had been tempted to write to her. But each time her warning had echoed in the recesses of his mind. He knew that as a Malfoy, one could not give in to emotions.

Not to mention his plan regarding the poison that had fabulously flunked. The mead had somehow found its way to Weasley, who had nearly died. Draco had been shit scared that day. As much as he loathed the Weasleys (especially Ronald Weasley), he had never wished upon their deaths.

”You are not a murderer”, he reminded himself.

These were the plethora of things that were occupying his mind when he rounded the corner and SLAM...

Rubbing his head and cursing under his head, he quickly picked up his book bag and was about to snap at whoever had bumped into him, but whatever retort he had formulated died in his throat. There, lying at the foot of the couple of stairs that joined the two corridors, was the most recurring subject of his musings. Granger.

–Watch your step, Malfoy,” she snarled and gathered her book bag, which had also fallen off. Sending a vicious glare in his general direction, she tried to get up but promptly fell back.

–Can’t stand, Granger?” Draco said, recovering himself. –What a pity. But at least you are aware of your status now.”

–Whatever be my status, Malfoy, it’s certainly not here,” she said venomously, staring up at him.

–You know, if you weren’t so stubborn, I would have helped you, seeing that you have sprained your leg. No wonder that was about to happen. Your legs had to give out under the weight of your inflated head.”

She pretended to ignore him and, taking out her wand, performed a quick spell. But when she tried to get up, she sank back again.

–It seems that you need Madam Pompfrey. You cannot excel at everything,” he chuckled wickedly.

–No one asked your opinion, Malfoy. Now just move along and leave me alone.”

–You do realise it is almost curfew, Granger. If I leave, you will be stranded here until the morning or till Filch finds you.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate but quickly closed it. Her eyes darted from side to side as she weighed her options. He could almost see the machinations of her brain in motion, as she analysed their pros and cons. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find neat little mental lists of the same.

Finally, she turned her gaze to him. He could see that it was taking a lot of effort on her part. Taking a deep breath, she said, –Fine. Will you really help me?”

He would lie if he said that it was his idea from the beginning to help her. He had just wanted to rile her up a bit, and then leave her there. Maybe he would have informed a patrolling prefect about her predicament, but there was no telling that he wouldn’t.

But at that point, he found himself giving her an almost imperceptible nod. Taking out his wand, he conjured a stretcher. Offering her his hand, he helped her onto the stretcher and started Levitating it behind him as he walked towards the Hospital Wing. None of them spoke a word while on the way.

Ten minutes later found Draco Malfoy helping Hermione Granger onto one of the hospital beds while Madam Pompfrey bustled about her potions and medicines, preparing a concoction for the Gryffindor prefect.

–You are in safe hands now, Granger,” Draco said. –I should take my leave.” Saying so, he made to depart.

–Wait, Malfoy.” A small voice made him turn around. –Thank you.”

–You’re welcome.”

She gave him an embarrassed smile.

–Hope you get well soon. There is no fun when there is no competition in the classes,” he said light-heartedly.

Her expression changed from disbelief to confusion to shock in a matter of seconds as she realised that he was trying to be civil. (Well, he had to admit that even he was surprised at his words.)

But before he could make his hasty exit and kick himself for his foolish act, she said, –I hate to admit, but you are certainly right.”

–I always am,” he drawled.

But instead of a spiteful comeback, she just rolled her eyes and gave him a bright smile, –Yeah, I know. Malfoys and all that rubbish, right?”

In spite of himself, he found himself giving her a soft smile in response. But the arrival of the nurse cut across the response he had planned to deliver.

–Back to bed, boy,” she said, shooing him out of the infirmary. –It’s almost past curfew. And she needs to rest. Don’t worry; she will be completely fine by tomorrow afternoon.”

As he was ushered out of the Hospital Wing, the last thing he heard before the heavy oak doors were shut on him was the exasperated cry of the girl within. –Afternoon? But what about my morning classes, Madam Pompfrey? I have Double Transfiguration tomor...”

Shaking his head, he found himself grinning. It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed. The light-hearted banter with the Gryffindor bookworm was the last thing he would have expected to happen that day.

But, it was also the best thing that had happened to him that day.
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