The boy in the hammock

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.

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Malfoy was still unconscious when she woke up, which made her feel both relieved and nervous. What if he never woke up? What if her healing came too late, and he slipped into a coma? Maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to wish him a long, sleep-filled recovery.

Shaking the panicked thoughts out of her head, she slid out of the hammock and walked out to the sunny mouth of the cave, grabbing a few pieces of turkey as she went. Until Malfoy woke up and she was able to gage his mood, not to mention whether or not he planned to murder her, her days would be spent checking over his injuries and hunting for food.

It ended up being ten whole days before he stirred, and she had just about given up on him by the time it happened.

Hermione was walking back to the cave through the forest, frustrated that nothing she had tried seemed to wake up her sleeping nemesis. None of her trusty spells had made a difference, and neither had the potions she had painstakingly concocted out of her very limited ingredients. While ten days was not an unheard of amount of time for someone to sleep off the shock of a serious injury - or in this case, many injuries - she was still incredibly nervous that she had done something wrong in the healing process. What if she had made matters worse somehow? Malfoy or not, she had wanted to save him from harm, not render him comatose.

Wringing her hands, her mind slipped back to the lines she had rehearsed and then re-written since she came back to her cave.

Hi Malfoy, don't panic, but I saved you from those Death Eaters, healed you, and now I don't know what to do with you.

No, no, that wasn't the one she settled on.

Malfoy, before I explain this, I need to ask... Are you going to attack me in my sleep? Because, the thing is, we're sharing a really small hammock.

... Your body heat is not as revolting as one might expect.

No, now she was getting confused.

Damnit, I have no idea how to explain this.

She didn't appreciate being this nervous all the time. She was Hermione Granger for crying out loud, known for her bravery and level head! Being in a state of constant anxiety was grating on her nerves, as it was only getting worse the longer Malfoy stayed unconscious. She had started taking nightly baths to calm herself down, letting the hot water distract her briefly from her bizarre situation.

Thoughts swirled in her head as she distractedly made her way back into the cave, not bothering to look up at Malfoy's no doubt sleeping form. Instead, she kept her eyes on the ground, her brow furrowed in frustration, as she wandered over to her small beaded bag. Perhaps re-reading one of her healing books would help her settle her brain. Maybe she had missed something about reviving sleeping gits.

She pulled it out with a sigh, plopped down on the sandy ground, and began to read.

"Hello Granger," said a smooth voice from behind her.

Hermione's bravery and level head went out the window as she jumped out of her skin and screamed, much to her immediate embarrassment. She scrambled to her feet, book tumbling onto the ground, and narrowly missed tripping over her bag in the process. Her head snapped up in the direction of the hammock, shoulders shaking and chest heaving, one hand against the wall of the cave for support.

There was Draco Malfoy, eyes open, looking at her with a curious expression on his face. He had undisguised amusement in his eyes, propped up in the hammock on one elbow, looking every bit as though he was simply lounging off a particularly long day.