Crookshanks Roasts Draco

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***

Sore.

Extremely sore.

That was all Draco felt.

He didn't want to move, or open his eyes, or even think. It hurt too much.

But not knowing where he was or what time it was or if he was even still alive made him. The light almost blinded him.

"So it's day," he concluded.

Then he noticed the pressure on his shoulder, and looked down to find one Hermione Granger curled up next to him, her head resting on his chest. His bare chest. Somehow his arm had found its way around her, the chain coiling neatly by her back. Draco was almost certain this was not the way they had fallen asleep originally. He couldn't remember much after Hermione had given him the potions though.

Reminded of the rip in his side, Draco looked down, trying to see it without moving so that the sleeping Gryffindor would not wake.

She shifted against him, mumbling in her sleep. Her hand brushed against his bare ribs, sending a ripple of tingles from the point of contact. Suddenly he was aware of every part where their skin touched. His heart beat faster.

"It's Hermione fucking Granger, damn it." Draco reminded himself forcefully. It was certainly becoming a problem. He knew in his mind that it was bloody mental for this to even be happening, but his body just knew it was a girl, and her skin was soft. He tried to just think about all the times she annoyed him, just to test himself to see if he could force himself into finding their current arrangement repulsive.

But when she nestled closer, her hand dragging up to rest by her face, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Granger, wake up." he snapped, annoyed at how his voice sounded slightly strained. She flinched awake, and sat bolt upright when she noticed where she was. Looking away from him, Draco could tell she was trying to hide a furious blush. He couldn't help the tiny smile that came for a second, but he then quickly masked it.

"Watch where you sleep," he mocked, echoing her words from a few days ago. She hid her face in her hands, too embarrassed to respond.

If she had been almost any other girl, Draco would've teased her and pulled her back to him, enjoying the flusteredness, but not Hermione. He had no idea how she would respond. Usually he would take the chance, but with her that felt dangerous and wrong, and with whatever happened it wasn't like he could just walk away.

"The fact that you are even considering that is just-" he thought in disgust. Sure over the past month he had learned that she wasn't utterly revolting, and could be humorous at times, but they were just friendly acquaintances, not even friends.

But as he thought that a multitude of memories coursed through his mind.

When she had propped her feet up on his knee without even noticing.

How she had hidden her head in his chest as the guard passed.

Her clenching his hand tighter as they raced through the black forest.

The intense worry on her face as she crawled towards him after stunning the werewolf.

Not to mention that this was the third time in quick succession in which they had woken up nearly in each other's arms. The thought was extremely strange, but not exactly repulsive.

"I trust him,"

The statement had caught him completely off guard.

Why in the world would she trust him?

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