Creature Comforts (h.p.)

20

"Harry, please. We're all worried." Hermione's concerned voice floated through the air around Harry, who was catatonic. His breaths were laboured and his eyelids flickered shut constantly, as he tried to force himself to focus on his friend. 

"M'fine, Mione. just a fever," he grunted. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Doesn't look like it to me," she scolded. Her voice dropped to a more comforting tone. "Harry, please, you can at least tell me. Is it to do with your mate?" Harry had mentioned finding his match to her but left out any names for Malfoy's sake. He grimaced.

"Really, it's just a head cold - I'll be right as rain by Monday." She was not convinced.

"Harry, it's been two weeks. What's wrong? Were you rejected?" Her eyes were wide and on the verge of panic at the thought. 

"No no, 'fcourse not! Well- not exactly, I mean-" He cut himself off to cough loudly. It was incredibly hard to plaster on a nonchalant expression after that, because the truth was that he was in a world of pain. Every joint ached, every muscle felt torn, every movement felt lethargic and jagged. "Nah. its all fine. Peachy, even." Hermione shook her head slightly, mumbling under her breath.

"Not exactly... Well - an inheritance like yours, without incredible strength you should be dead in a week right? But what does 'not exactly' mean? Only a flat-out no would induce such intense symptoms, surely..." Harry did his best to keep up but found himself growing dizzy. Black spots began to swim across his vision and he wrenched himself into a sitting position with a yelp, keeping his head between his knees. 

"Alright, that's it. I'm going to madam Pomfrey." 

"Hermione, no! I'm fine-!"

"Oh, do shut up," she huffed before jumping into her lynx form and slinking from the room. 

She scarcely got a second glance these days walking around like this, it was now so common to see students in their inherited forms. Even at the impressive speed she rocketed through the halls, the loitering teenagers hardly batted an eye. She heard what was probably a complaint or reprimand from a member of staff but for once, abiding by the rules was not her top priority. 

Hermione reached the hospital wing in record time, skidding through the tall double doors and transforming back so that when she slowed to a stop she was in her usual form. The hospital beds were mostly empty, apart from a couple of first years who looked as though they'd been hit with a bat bogey hex. The normally busy nurse was nowhere to be seen, and the office door was pulled shut - an unusual sight, as she liked to be accessible at all times. Light murmuring could be heard from inside. Hermione began to make her way over when a familiar, comforting scent met her nose.

"What's Pansy doing in there?" She hummed, frowning. The whispered conversation inside came to a stop and the door flew open, revealing madam Pomfrey looking troubled and Pansy with a concerned expression. Upon spotting her mate, the Slytherin's eyes lightened momentarily, the canine ears on her head perking up and her bushy tail swaying. 

"Do excuse me for a moment, miss Granger, I've got a most worrying case on my hands," the nurse babbled apologetically, bustling past and throwing open a cabinet door. Pansy walked to stand by Hermione.

"What brings you here, milady?" she whispered. Hermione sighed.

"It's Harry; says he's got a cold but I think it's way worse than he's letting on." Pansy frowned.

"Funny, Draco said the same. It's why I'm here - to grab a bunch of potions to force-feed him. Not that its been working over the past couple of weeks."

"Wait a minute," Hermione muttered quietly, the cogs in her brain whirring. "Did Draco say anything about his mate?"

"Not anything to me. Smells different recently, though."

"And you said its been two weeks?"

"Uhh... yeah, thereabouts."

"No way." Hermione's face flickered through a series of emotions in seconds - disbelief, excitement, shock, anger, you name it. Pansy watched, bewildered. Hermione turned to her abruptly, gripping her shoulders. "Do you know what this means, P?!" She squealed. Pansy flinched and her ears flattened to her head.

"Volume, Hermione." The Gryffindor blushed slightly.

"Now's not the time for complaining about your sensitive ears! Don't you see?" She sighed at the bewildered look on Pansy's face. "What, you think its a coincidence that they're experiencing the symptoms of rejection at the same time?" It hit Pansy like a bus and she gasped.

"Holy smokes, you really think so?" Hermione nodded eagerly. A wolfish grin spread across Pansy's face. "Well, there's only one way to fix this, and it's not with potions." 

Hermione faltered. "Wait, are you sure? There was obviously some sort of disagreement for them to have reached this state. Is it such a good idea to just force them together?"

"Oh, my dear Hermione," Pansy hummed, "If i know anything about Draco Malfoy it's that he's completely and utterly crazy for Potter." Hermione seemed skeptical, but sighed.

"Well, in that case... Let's catch ourselves a Malfoy."

Which is how Harry woke up, thinking he was in a fever dream as Pansy burst through the door as her dog form, pulling along floating ropes at the end of which bobbed a trussed up Malfoy, with Hermione trailing guiltily behind. He jumped, wondering how his brain had conjured up such an image.

"Alright, Potter?" Pansy chirped gleefully. His brow furrowed.

"Not really, you?" He responded conversationally. Pansy cackled.

"Oh, this is going to be great."