Chapter Text
No blanket nor spell could protect Hermione from the cold, which seemingly bit down on her bones and shook her side to side like a dog with a bone. Her teeth clattered noisily together as she trailed behind Ron and Harry as they walked towards Hogwarts from the Black Lake, the pair oblivious to her weakened state.
She didn't have any recollection of being underwater, just reemerging with a half-shark Viktor pulling her to the safety of the platform nearby. There had been copious spells of warming cast but nothing seemed to touch the frost that had settled into her bones and threatened to freeze her alive. It gnawed away at her chest and bit harshly at her fingertips, turning them a worryingly shade of blue. All attention had been on Harry the second he had appeared from the water with both Gabrielle and Ron in tow, and Hermione was promptly forgotten about. She hadn't expressed her pain to anyone, instead rushing to Harry and Ron's side and smothering them in the way she always did. However, the cold was catching up.
Her foot must have caught on the root of a nearby tree. She stumbled forward, the brain fog too overwhelming to even think of protecting herself, and watched in seeming slow motion as the ground neared, threatening to smash her face in. She couldn't bring a single muscle to move and not a single part of her cared.
Before she could hit the floor, thick, strong arms wrapped around her midsection and jerked her upwards. She hit their chest hard and the impact caused her knees to give out, her full weight slumping into their grasp. She could barely see straight, her teeth chattering and body trembling at whatever was happening to her. She knew this wasn't normal, that something was deeply and truly wrong, but her mind wouldn't work and she was so tired.
A distant voice called out to Harry and Ron but Hermione was quickly fading and she couldn't make out who it was. The cold had become welcoming warmth and she had no strength to fight it, letting it drag her into the darkness. The last thing she saw was Ron, sprinting towards her with his wand drawn.
Hm, I wonder who caught me? She thought before slipping unconscious.
The bright lights of the infirmary sent a splitting headache through Hermione as her eyes fluttered open. A groan escaped her lips and instinctively, she rose her hand to shield her from the light.
"Miss Granger, you're awake." Madam Pomfrey stood at the end of her bed, a smile on the matron's aging face.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but found her throat raw and voice nonexistent. She frowned in frustration and touched her neck tenderly.
"Not to worry dear, your voice will return soon enough," said Madam Pomfrey, "just rest it for now. You managed to catch a rapid case of hypothermia, your body shut down before you even reached the castle."
Hermione nodded as Madam Pomfrey spoke, listening intently to every word.
"You're very lucky that Mr Malfoy was just by you, he carried you straight here. Much to the upset of Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, I may add."
For three brief seconds, Hermione couldn't seem to process what Madam Pomfrey had just said. Malfoy had carried her here? He was her saviour? Surely not. However, she couldn't open her mouth to argue and so she simply frowned to express her confusion.
Madam Pomfrey didn't take notice and instead cast a diagnostic charm, reading it intently. She cleared it away with a satisfied smile and said, "You'll be out of here in no time, Miss Granger. I'll let your visitors in now you're awake." She walked through the fabric partition and left Hermione to her thoughts.
How could Malfoy be her saviour? It made no sense. Malfoy hated her, would see her dead if he could, and yet he had allegedly come to her rescue. Thinking about it made her head hurt, and she screwed her eyes shut.
"Granger."
His voice sent her eyes flying open and Hermione's mouth parted slightly in shock at seeing him standing at the foot of her bed. Malfoy looked tense with his back stick straight and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. There were dark circles under his stormy grey eyes and somehow he seemed even paler than normal.
Probably sick at the thought of having touched me, she thought to herself.
"Pomfrey said you were recovering well," he said as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I wanted to make sure."
Hermione blinked and Malfoy stared at her. It was only after a couple of seconds that she realised he didn't know she couldn't speak. She touched her throat and then her mouth before shaking her head, trying to tell him about her voice wordlessly.
He seemed to understand, nodding, and stepped around to the side of her bed. She tensed under the covers as he sat on the bed, pressing against her legs.
He stared at the floor in front of him and was quiet for a few moments before inhaling deeply. "I thought you were dying."
He looked at her then and the pain in his eyes caught her off guard. He looked broken as he stared at her, his throat bobbing slightly.
"I thought you were dying in my arms and I..." He trailed off.
Hermione couldn't understand what was happening. Malfoy was sat in front of her, on the verge of tears over her near-death experience. None of it made any sense and her head thumped wildly.
He took a deep, shaky breath. "You can't die," he whispered, "I don't give you permission to die."
Without another word, he stood and walked through the fabric partition, leaving Hermione in a state of utter confusion that was so overwhelming that she began to cry. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands, letting the feelings wash over her in tumultuous waves.
Only after her tears had dried and runny nose cleared did Harry and Ron appear, fussing over her weakened state. She forced on her most convincing smile, wordlessly told them of her voice and listened to them rage about Malfoy's heroics, Ron's anger overshadowing Harry's. Hermione filed away her interaction with Malfoy to the back of her mind and simply let herself relax, enjoying her boys and their presence.
She'd deal with Malfoy later.
She had only been discharged from the hospital wing for a few days when Malfoy cornered her. During a rush of students running between classes, he grabbed her and dragged her into a secret hidden alcove, his hand clamped around her mouth.
He looked even worse than when he'd visited her in the infirmary, the dark circles under his eyes now bordering on black and his hair was disheveled in a way that was almost attractive. Hermione didn't even try to protest as he pressed them into the tight space, his eyes on the shadows of footfall that passed them. Minutes ticked by and soon the corridor was empty, leaving the pair alone.
He looked at her then and slowly removed his hand, allowing Hermione to take a deep breath.
"What was that?' she hissed once she'd filled her lungs. Protectively, she crossed her arms in front of her and they pressed against Malfoy's chest.
He swallowed and carded his fingers through his hair. "I haven't seen you, I was worried," he rushed out, seemingly embarrassed.
Hermione scoffed at this. "Worried?" she snapped, although she kept her voice quiet. "Why are you worried? You hate me, Malfoy."
His eyes flickered but she didn't care. He wasn't about to manipulate her into thinking he cared about her.
"I don't hate you, Granger. The opposite, in fact."
She rolled her eyes but he continued.
"Seeing you dying, in front of me, scared me to death. I... I feel something for you, I don't know what but it has complete control over me." His voice was strained, as if he had to fight to get the word out, and Hermione found her will to fight him faltering.
He took a deep breath and moved closer. Her arms fell to her sides without hesitation and her palms pressed against the stone wall behind her, grounding her.
"I am, as Theo puts it," he whispered, "obsessed with you, Granger."
His breath fanned across her face and she felt her cheeks burning under his gaze. She shook her head, unable to believe him.
"No," she muttered but suddenly his thumb pad was pressed against her lips and he had her face in his hand.
"I have been obsessed with you since first year," he confessed without removing his touch. "Since you first showed your extreme and unwavering intelligence. I hated you because you were better than me, the only person so, but now... Now it's something else."
Hermione could feel her heart thumping against her chest and silently prayed that he couldn't hear it too. Her entire body seemed alight with even the tips of her ears burning. He didn't say anything else and just stared at her, his breath fanning her face and thumb pressing against her lips.
Neither of them moved for what felt like hours, stuck in this small bubble of tension and confession. It reminded Hermione of church in an odd way. Did that make her the priest and Malfoy the sinner? She didn't know.
Finally, she opened her mouth and his thumb moved to join the rest of his touch against her cheek.
"Describe the something else."
Malfoy eyes widened and she felt his hand snake around her neck, taking a handful of her hair. Before she could register what was happening, his lips had found hers. The kiss was hunger, desire and lust all wrapped into one. She could feel the desperation rolling off him and she let herself be taken by it, her hands reaching up to clutch at his robes.
But it was over almost as quickly as it had began. He pulled away from her and, with heavy breaths, pressed his forehead to hers.
"It's that," he breathed with his eyes still closed.
She didn't move and kept her grip on his robes, as though he'd disappear without another word like he had in the infirmary. His eyes fluttered open and their gazes met, locked onto each other in silence. His grip on her hair didn't loosen and she wished he'd kiss her again, craving relief she found in his lips.
She didn't know what was happening to her. She had never once thought of Malfoy in such a way, even when Lavender and Parvati gushed about him during the night in their dorm. She'd always known he was attractive objectively but had never felt it. Until now.
"When I saw you after the second task, I couldn't breathe," he whispered shakily, "I was going out of my mind watching you. You just deteriorated so quick."
His face contorted as memories flashed by him and Hermione could feel the jump in his heart rate. She released her grip on his robe and pressed her palm to his chest, just above his heart. His eyes opened and dropped to her touch, mesmerised.
She wet her lips and swallowed. "I'm okay," she said slowly.
His eyes met hers.
"You're okay."
Slowly, as if trying not to scare a small animal, she rose to her tiptoes. She pressed her lips to his softly, treasuring the tender moment. His fingers untangled from her hair and found her waist, pulling her closer to him, their chests now pressed tightly together.
She withdrew her lips and gave him a soft, sincere smile. "We'll miss class," she whispered.
Malfoy nodded, seeming to just realise how long they'd been there. He let her go and stepped back, extending his arm to the alcove exit.
"After you," he said. He already looked brighter and the colour had seemed to return to his skin, no longer allowing him to resemble cold marble.
Hermione slipped past him and he followed, the pair walking down the empty corridor in silence. Her mind was racing as they neared their respective classes, trying to think of anything to say.
He beat her to it. A small graze of his fingers across hers brought her eyes to him.
"I'll find you again," was all he said before disappearing into his classroom, leaving her in the corridor alone.
She felt her cheeks burn again and before she could think of reasons why whatever had happened, and would happen, was a bad idea, she fled into her own classroom.
"You're late, Miss Granger," snapped Professor McGonagall as Hermione took her seat beside Harry.
"I'm sorry Professor, it won't happen again."
Harry eyed her suspiciously but Professor McGonagall had continued her lesson before he could say anything, much to Hermione's gratitude. She spent the remainder of the lesson furiously writing down notes and pushing Malfoy to the furthest corner of her mind.
I'll deal with that later.