Anyone But Me

Chapter Eight

"Were you struck mute since the last time I saw you, Granger? I asked you a question. What are you doing?" That annoyingly familiar voice drawled.

It would be her luck...

"I... Ummm... Well... you see..." Hermione looked down to the jewelry box and quickly took a step back, not wanting to be anywhere near the thing again. She pondered on her chances of being able to pull off that her stammering was a side effect of the spell. Or exhaustion from everything that had happened over the course of such an absolutely ridiculous night.

Her eyes flicked up and met the cold gray she had grown so used to out of Draco Malfoy. He snapped at her as he grew impatient for an answer. "Out with it Granger."

"The box... It... Uhhh... It talked to me. It's... It's possessed or something. I don't know. It told me to touch it. And... And I couldn't stop myself. Then you came by. You... You saved my life?" She rambled, not knowing if she made a lick of sense.

"The jewelry box was talking to you? And then I saved you? What are you yammering on about?" Malfoy flung his questions at her in such quick succession it was hard for her to keep up. His eyes left hers for the first time since their meeting. He scanned her body and face, centering on her right temple. She must have a bruise there. Great, he was going to think she had a concussion or some other type of damage that was causing her befuddlement.

"Yes. The box... It talked to me. You know, inside my head and told me to touch it. I couldn't fight it. I... I think the sounds of your footsteps broke the connection somehow. Ergo... You saved me. Albeit unintentionally, so I do apologize for not perishing in some terrible fashion so you could gloat." She snapped at him. She did not like her brain feeling so slow while having no choice but to interact with the provoking git.

Slowly the cold iciness melted from his eyes and was replaced with a hint of the earlier chaos, this time there was what looked like concern and trepidation thrown into the swirling mix. "So you did not touch it? Are you sure? You look like you may have taken a nasty spill."

"I hit my head... Before. It happens. Anyways... I should go so you can get back to... Whatever you are doing here I suppose..." His questions made her temple start to pound again and all that she wanted was to get back to the safe shelter of her bed. She had no idea how long she had been out earlier. Or how long she had been caught up fighting with that cursed chunk of metal.

He took a step towards her and she shrank back, almost knocking into a bookcase filled to the brim with ancient tombs. He raised his hands in front of her in a placating gesture. "I can help you get to Pomfrey, Granger. I won't hurt you."

She tried to shake her head but groaned aloud when the pain shot from her temple to the back of her right eye. She took a quick breath, fighting with the bout of nausea brought on by the stabbing agony. She would not vomit in front of Draco Malfoy. That wasn't an option.

"Why not? That seems to be one of your favorite hobbies after all." She challenged.

He inhaled slowly, as if he was trying to control his temper and not rise to her continued baiting. The muscles in his jaw clenched for a split second before he shrugged. "I don't find pleasure in kicking a witch when she is down. If you were in top shape it would be a different story, but let's just say my chivalry lessons are kicking in and I would not feel right about letting you wander the castle in your delirious condition."

"So you don't want to help me because it is the right thing to do? It's all about making yourself feel better? I should not be surprised." Hermione retorted. She went to walk away from the infuriating brute... And felt the world tilt as she stumbled forward and quite literally fell into his waiting arms.