Veela Love

Chapter Eleven: Waking Up

            Hermione opened her eyes to blinding white light and immediately shut them again. She didn't want to be awake.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" The worried lilt to Draco's voice is the only thing that made her open her eyes again. She could feel his fear rolling off him. He was lying wrapped around her tightly.

She tried to form words, but her mouth was too dry. In an instant, Draco was pressing a cup to her lips. Drinking the cool liquid greedily, she felt marginally better. "Thanks," she managed to get out.

Before she could do anything else, Draco had wrapped her in his arms, buried his head in the crook of her neck, and started shaking. After a moment, she realized he was crying. In the back of her mind, a bubble of relief lay, a feeling very much not her own.

"Shhh, it's okay, Draco," she rubbed his back in soothing circles, waiting for him to calm down.

"I thought you were dying," he whispered into her hair.

"No, I'm right here. I'm just fine, Draco."

After several more moments, Draco lifted his head and wiped at his eyes. He looked so young and vulnerable at that moment that it took Hermione's breath away. She'd never seen him come even remotely close to this before. She reached out and gingerly wiped away a stray tear.

"What happened?"

Draco bit his lip. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Hermione thought hard. "We were in bed, and you marked me, and it felt... too good." She glanced down, knowing her cheeks were aflame.

"You fell into a coma, and you had an insanely high fever." Draco brushed her hair out of her face. "You shouldn't be alive," he added as an afterthought.

Hermione felt her eyes grow wide. "A fever? We didn't read anything about that!"

Draco chuckled. "Books don't know everything, 'Mione."

She glanced away when he used her nickname, her face red again.

"How are you feeling?"

Hermione took stock of her body. "Sore. And my head is killing me."

Draco carefully slid off the bed. "Let me get Madame Pomfrey."

As he walked away, Hermione was loath to admit she missed the feeling of him pressed against her. She sighed – this emptiness when he's gone was her life now. It'd always be like that.

When the matron returned, she immediately started casting charms over Hermione to check her vitals, Draco standing protectively at her side. "You're alright, Ms. Granger. You gave us quite a scare, especially your mate. He hasn't slept a wink since you were brought in yesterday. Very protective, he is." She chuckled to herself. "I'm not comfortable giving you anything for your head this close to the change, so unfortunately, you'll have to suffer. You're free to go when you feel capable of walking." She bustled off, closing the curtain behind her.

Taking a closer look at Draco, she found he had dark circles under his eyes. She didn't know how she'd missed them.

Thinking back on everything she knew about marking, she gingerly touched her face. "How different do I look now?"

Draco inspected her face thoroughly. "You look like you, but like a different edition of yourself." Summoning a mirror, he handed it over. Hermione found he was right – she still looked exactly like herself, but different somehow. She couldn't place it. Maybe her eyes were just a little wider apart and her nose slightly more centered, but she couldn't be sure. What she did know was she felt pretty for the first time since the Yule Ball.