Vacivitas

Chapter Twenty-Three

Enjoy this last bit of sunshine before the rain comes back :D -laughs maniacally and runs away-

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hermione hasn't seen the sunlight since the Battle of Hogwarts.

And that's not to say she hasn't recognized its presence, or that she's only seen rainy days since. But when she lost everything and everyone she ever loved, the sunlight seemed to become dimmer and dimmer. Until she could stand directly under the sun at noon in the middle of August without noticing it's bright outside.

When she wakes, head pillowed on Draco Malfoy's chest, she sees autumn morning sunlight painting the floor, peeking in from between curtains that haven't been closed all the way. It reaches toward the bed where they sleep, almost beckoning her. Teasing her, saying, "Don't you want to be happy?" but not showing her how to do that.

How is she supposed to be happy in a world no one wants her in? A world where men take and take, and relish in watching your violation?

All those eyes, watching her...

She thinks it bothers her more than she thought, and she regrets being more concerned about Malfoy's panic attack that night than her own emotions. If she had chosen herself for once, maybe she wouldn't have jumped.

Hermione's life has been a series of choices made for other people's sake. Her parents, her friends, people in trouble, and even Malfoy. She'd been crucioed by his father because she was so desperate to keep his secret. Because she knows that if anyone finds out that he's a vampire, he will die.

And she doesn't want him to die.

She doesn't know how she feels about Malfoy.

As if on cue, Malfoy shifts beneath her, taking the deep inhale of someone waking. It takes a second before Hermione feels his arms tightening around her, just like they had last night. It confuses her, just like everything else has since her fall. She wants to know how long her healing process was, how well it went, and when he decided to climb into bed and stay awake watching her.

She wants to know why.

"Good morning," she says softly, not lifting her head from his chest. Her braids cascade from her head and down, fanning out over his arm and onto the coverlet. One of her legs is hooked over his, and she's moderately aware of the fact that she's got no knickers on.

"Morning," he mumbles. "How is your head?"

"It's fine today. Do you know what exactly happened to my body?"

One of his arms slides back, until his fingers rest on her forearm, which is already slung across his waist.

"Well, you fell on your right side. That broke your leg in several places. Multiple arm bones broken, as well as your shoulder and collarbone. Almost every rib on that side was either fractured or broken. And..." Malfoy's voice is gravelly, rough from what she assumes by how relaxed he is was a deep sleep. "You hit your head. Cracked it open. And you lost a lot of blood. By the time I found you, I couldn't..."

He's quiet for longer than she wants him to be.

"Couldn't what?"

"I couldn't hear your heartbeat anymore."

Hermione frowns, staring at the beam of sunlight stretching toward the bed. So it would seem that if vampires could hear any sound in their vicinity, that they would be able to hear heart beats, too. Which would come in handy for a Healer, if it weren't for the inconvenience of bloodlust.