Draco Malfoy's history of poor decision-making continues after the war, when he returns to Hogwarts under strict probation. Bored and restless, he decides to cast the infamous Vanishing Cabinet spell to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch...
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Posters by K Writes Dramione
The infirmary was once again dim and quiet. Draco lay on his cot, still weak from blood loss and potions. Pomfrey had healed the swelling around his jaw and determined that he hadn't swallowed his missing teeth. Then she left Draco's bedside to locate some Skele-Gro. ("I don't understand—I had two full bottles on Monday!") Potter was off rescuing Lovegood and throwing his Chosen weight around.
McGonagall turned up soon after Potter left, her clicking footsteps loud and determined as she approached Draco's bed. Draco pretended to be asleep, but Hermione was happy to brief the Headmistress. Draco had saved her, she said. Hermione had woken in a bed with Tennant and he'd turned into a wolf and attacked her, and Draco saved her by leaping between them. She hit both Slytherins with a poker and Draco was bitten while saving her. Yes, Tennant really was an unregistered Animagus and had she mentioned that Draco saved her?
The Headmistress sounded dubious, as well she might, but this was the Golden Girl, after all. McGonagall said she would try to keep the Aurors Office out of this for now. (Her long-running feud with the Head Auror was well known, as was her distrust of the Ministry.) Yes, Miss Granger, she was well aware that Hogwarts' transfer applications process could use a bit of fine-tuning. And yes, Miss Granger, she had grasped the concept that Mr. Malfoy had saved her.
Hermione followed McGonagall out of the infirmary, still talking, and Draco enjoyed a moment of blessed silence until she returned.
"I know you're awake, Draco," she said firmly.
Draco opened his eyes and tentatively, he liked what he saw. Hermione still wore his black jumper over blue pajamas, her hair shoved into a leaning tower of curls. While her eyes didn't seek out Tennant, still unconscious and tied up on a nearby bed, she didn't avoid looking at him either.
"Of course I'm awake." Draco said, pleased to be able to speak again. "You'd have to be Stunned silly to get any sleep around here."
They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then Draco shifted to one side of the bed, a subtle invitation.
"Your shoulder ..." she began.
"My shoulder is fine. I'm fine." He felt only a bit of stiffness where he was bitten and an odd stretchiness where Tennant had clawed his face. Pomfrey's treatments had left a thin scar looped across his forehead and cheek, which she'd promised would fade overnight.
"Where is Madam Pomfrey?"
"Looking for Skele-Gro," Draco said.
"You should wear a mouth brace after you drink it," Hermione said. "Crowded teeth are crabby teeth."
Draco rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify that comment with a response. His self-control was rewarded, for Hermione dropped the tooth talk and joined him on the bed, stretching out her legs on the thin white blanket. Draco slid an arm around her and leaned his chin on her curls. She was wearing his slippers, he noted, and the embroidery looked distinctly scuffed. He doubted he'd get them back.
