Dramione : A Kidnap Story

Chapter Nine : A Bad Dream

That day, Hermione found herself slipping into a comfortable sleep, reassured by Draco's presence nearby.

However, her tranquility was shattered as she delved into a dream, a haunting vision featuring Ron.

"Harry," she called out eagerly as she embraced him. "Where's Ron?" she inquired with a smile.

"He's..." Harry hesitated.

"He didn't come, he left?" Hermione's tone shifted to one of disbelief. "How could he do that? How could he leave us again? He promised he wouldn't," she exclaimed, her anger rising.

"Hermione... Ron didn't leave. He's... he's dead," Harry revealed solemnly.

"What? No, no, no!" Hermione's screams echoed.

Draco's P.O.V:

"No, no, no," Hermione's cries filled the room, jolting me from my sleep. Reacting quickly, I rushed to her side, attempting to rouse her from her distress.

"Hermione," I called out, trying to calm her.

"You're lying," she continued to protest, her voice filled with anguish.

"Hermione," I repeated, the use of her first name feeling foreign on my tongue. I had never addressed her as anything other than "Mudblood" or "Granger," but in that moment, "Hermione" slipped out instinctively.

"It can't be true, it can't," she sobbed as she finally awoke.

"What did you see?" I inquired gently, curious about the source of her torment.

"Ron. It's Ron," she choked out, tears streaming down her face. "He can't be dead, he can't," she cried out desperately.

"Shh, shh," I murmured softly, reaching out to comfort her.

"I'm scared," she confessed between sobs.

"Shh, stop crying, stop," I urged, brushing away her tears.

"Please help me, help me, Malfoy. I want to know the truth," she pleaded.

I hesitated, torn by her distress.
Of course:

"Granger," I began, struggling to find the right words. Unable to bear seeing her in such distress any longer, I finally relented, "Alright, you know what? I'll take you to see them. But they can't see you or speak to you, or else..." My voice trailed off, the unspoken implications hanging heavily in the air.

Hermione's P.O.V:

"Alright, you know what, I'll take you to see them. But they can't see you or speak to you, or else..." Draco's voice broke through my turmoil.

"Thank you," I managed a small smile, grateful for his unexpected offer. Without thinking, I found myself enveloping him in a hug.

"Yes, just know, you must obey everything I say," he reminded me coldly, masking any hint of reaction to my embrace.

"Yes, alright," I blushed, feeling a bit flustered.

"Why don't you rest now?" he suggested, his gaze locking onto mine.

"I don't want to," I admitted, my fear not directed at him, of course.

"Why?" he inquired gently.

"I'm scared, if I see him again," I confessed sadly.

"Think about good things. It always helps me when I'm sad or upset," he advised.

"Good things?" I queried, curious about his perspective.

"Yes. Think about the most lovable thing to your heart," he suggested, adding, "Ah, books, studying, Mrs. Too Smart," with a smirk.

"Shut up," I chuckled, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood.

"Goodnight," he bid before retreating under the covers.

As I watched him drift off to sleep, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him, despite our tumultuous circumstances.