Venom and Velvet

Of Potions and Pillows

21. Of Potions and Pillows

Hermione typically didn't like to be given any special consideration because of her actions in the War, but sometimes she let the benefits work out. One of these times was when Madam Pomfrey came up, announcing the end of visiting hours.

Hermione stood, walking with the nurse out of Draco's earshot.

"Madam Pomfrey, I wondered if... If you might let me stay here with him."

Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to decline but Hermione pressed on.

"Just this once, please, for me? It's just that, after so long on the run with Harry I just get nervous leaving people behind." She batted her eyelashes innocently, trying to channel Draco's persuasive abilities.

She knew before Madam Pomfrey even spoke Hermione knew she had won. She received a short lecture on making sure he took his potion every two hours and reminded her that she would be in the next room. Hermione promised she'd stay on top of his potions and gave a thankful smile.

She made her way back to Draco's bed and sat.

"Aren't you leaving, Granger?"

"Not unless you want me to," Hermione looked at him, waiting for an invitation in his eyes.

He smiled at her, a real, genuine smile, and scooted to the right side of the bed. Hermione slid under the covers and curled up next to him.

"Is this okay?" She whispered. For some reason, she didn't want to disturb the silence in the room.

"It's perfect," he muttered into her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist.

It didn't take long for Draco to fall asleep. Hermione was surprised to learn that he snored. Not loudly, but rhythmically soft. Her head was resting on his chest and she felt the rise and fall of his every breath. Realizing that the motion was lulling her to sleep already, she sat up gently and waved her wand over her wristwatch, casting the timer spell so it would buzz her awake in an hour and a half for Draco's potion. Then, moving as slowly as she could, she returned to her place in Draco's arms and closed her eyes.

When she awoke at eleven thirty, Hermione tapped twice on her watch to stop the buzzing. She shook Draco's shoulder gently and his eyes opened, landing on her face.

"Hello." The moonlight was streaming in through the windows and illumination his features. He looks like a fucking god.

"Hello," she blushed. Hermione wasn't sure when the top few buttons of his school shirt had been undone, or why she hadn't thought to go and get him some pyjamas. Her eyes traced the line of his jaw and down to his collarbone. Just below the second button was a clean, white line. She reached up her fingers and let them graze across his chest, tracing the line.

"Is this from that terrible spell?" She whispered.

Draco nodded. His eyes hadn't left her face since he woke. He placed his hand over hers and guided it to his left side, right over his heart. It was beating madly.

"Draco?" Hermione smiled, still whispering.

"Yes?"

"If I try to kiss you now will you be sick again?"

"I certainly hope not," he returned her playful smile.

Hermione leaned forward and let her lips brush against his, wondering when she'd become so bold. He craned his neck, trying to find her lips again. Hermione pulled back and looked at him. She ran her hand across his forehead, brushing aside a stray lock of hair.