Three Months Left

Chapter 4

He almost lost her.

The gravity of it nearly takes his breath away.

He brutally reminds himself that he doesn't have her anyway, not like that, like she's his to lose. But... but... she could have told him to sod off for good, that she never wanted to see him again.

He thinks she might have been quite close to doing just that.

It feels like he took a hex to the chest. He can't breathe, thinking about it. And the severity of his reaction...

He feels trapped in a negative cycle, his fear of losing her and his realisation that losing her would feel like this.

Draco's finding it a little hard to intake air. His inhales are coming too rapidly, his exhales too shallow, and he thinks if he stood up too quickly he'd probably faint. Like some dramatic witch, he scoffs, and this helps centre him somewhat. His mother still uses words like 'swoon,' and it's something witches do. An absurd reaction for him to have. He wouldn't faint, he assures himself. That's ridiculous.

This mental exercise is helping his breathing and he looks down at the sleeping witch on his arm.

She'd fallen asleep there after he'd apologised in as many ways as he could think of, and Draco's terrified to move. He doesn't want to wake her. His arm is also thoroughly asleep and he's sure Hermione is far more comfortable. That's okay, though. He can manage.

He'll have to wake her soon, though, so she can get back to Gryffindor Tower before patrols begin. Only... what if he didn't?

What if they both just fell asleep here? Would it be so bad? If he knows anything about Hermione Granger, it's her attention to detail, her almost-obsessive minding of rules and expectations. If she was so concerned, surely her inner clock would be screaming at her. She must feel comfortable here, too. It's not the first time she's fallen asleep with him, risking them both sleeping right through the night.

She's laying on top of his left arm and even though his glamour is in place, he hates the knowledge that her glorious hair is currently touching his Dark Mark.

Fuck; how have they got here? Draco curses and for the first time, wonders if it might have been better if she'd never approached him that night they were supposed to be revising. That was only a few short weeks ago, but he has no idea how to manage what's happening any longer. He has no idea how to juggle his mission, his father's incarceration, the unexpected support of a few friends... but maybe that can help. If Pansy was telling the truth, that she and Theo think things are going too far.

After he saw Hermione's face when he stepped out of that cupboard, he hadn't been able to think about a single thing but her. He needs to, now. He has her back; she forgave him, she believed that he doesn't want Pansy - or anyone else. She's sleeping on him now, her beautiful face turned into his chest. His heart skips a beat and he makes himself refocus.

His mission. Pansy's olive branch. Greg and Vince shouldn't be trusted; he'd known that was likely but he feels a visceral flood of relief that Theo and Blaise can. He hopes they can be, anyway. Gods, if Pansy was just trying to trip him up... he doesn't know what he'll do. But he guesses he'll know soon enough if she was being disingenuous. She knows about Hermione. If nothing comes of that, Draco thinks he can probably trust Pansy's stated motivations.

No, he knows he doesn't wish he and Hermione had never started this - whatever this is. He's so, so glad they did. The courage she'd shown in asking him in the first place had been humbling. He didn't even know for certain his own dick would cooperate.

He thought it had a decent chance, after his nightly imaginings, but Draco couldn't have guaranteed his stress levels wouldn't override everything else. Learning that Hermione hadn't done anything else, either, helped both of them. He hadn't known that would be the case, of course; he'd only wanted to better understand why she was asking him, of all people. Then her story had gradually revealed itself, Draco painfully prying every sentence out of her.