The Battle of the Highest (Dramione)

Chapter 8: Checking In

*DRACO*

I got myself fixed up before dinner, which started later because of the tournament, meaning I had less time to see Hermione. I walk into the Great Hall, and everyone's talking in hushed voices. Some stop talking and look at me with a concerned look, then go right back to their chit-chat. Others come up to me and ask what it was like in the maze, but I tell them I don't want to talk about it and I push them away. I can't think about it. The worst part was seeing Hermione trapped in that box. She looked so vulnerable and delicate. She wasn't supposed to be in this, none of us were. It's bad enough that the competitors are already chosen before each school year starts, and we have to die.

I slump onto the bench at the Slytherin table and nibble on a roll. I wasn't feeling so well, and the past few hours made me lose my appetite. I decide to take a plateful of food to Hermione who's probably starving. I grab some things that will still taste good a little cold and I head up to the hospital wing.

I walk through the open doors. There are only two people: someone, I'm guessing Cho's body, covered by a sheet on my right, and a a girl with bushy brown hair on my left near the end of the room. I walk down to her, plate in hand, and sit down into the chair beside her bed. I set the plate on the side table.

"So you came," she says, not opening her eyes, making me jump.

"You didn't think I would?" I ask. Her eyes flutter open and search around until she sees me. She sets her hand on my knee.

"I don't know," she admits. "I don't know what I was thinking. But Madame Pomfrey wants me to stay overnight to make sure I have enough oxygen in my body."

"Well, I think if you're talking, you're fine."

She smiles. "I think I'm perfectly fine as well, but I'm not the medical expert." She sits up and glances at the plate. "You brought me food?"

"Of course. I thought you'd be starving. I didn't eat anything. I was so caught up in this damn tournament..." I look away.

"Hey," she says, "don't act like that. I know it's hard going through this, and we've both gone through a lot of pain, and yet there's more to come, but we have to stay strong. We have to last until the last challenge."

"I just can't stand to see you like this," I say. I gesture to the bed.

"It's only a day, Draco."

"Still. I'm not happy unless you're with me."

"That's very sweet." She smiles. She starts coughing badly again like she did earlier.

"Need a cough drop?" I joke. She smiles, still coughing, but shakes her head.

"I do this every so often. I wake up then cough, then fall back asleep."

I nod once and stand. "I best be on my way."

"Don't go," Hermione pleads. "It's so lonely and dismal here. Please? I haven't anyone to talk to, unless you count Cho over there." We glance at her body across the room.

"Fine," I say. "I'll stay for a little bit."

Hermione squeals and lays back down. I smile and sit back in the chair.

"So..." Hermione starts. "What's it been like out there?"

"Too much chatter over the stupid tournament. I keep hearing silly rumors that you died. But then I turn around and yell at them that you're not because I was there with you, not them."

"Have you spoken with my friends?"

I cringe whenever she mentions them. It only bothers me because I've never truly had best friends, unless you consider Crabbe and Goyle my best friends.

"I haven't. Didn't see them all day."

Hermione sinks deeper into the bed with disappointment.

"Here," I say, giving her my hand, "sit up." I pull her up easily. I'm scared sometimes that she's just too delicate and fragile for me. She doesn't even deserve me. She deserves someone better than me, yet she chose to be with a past-Death Eater.

She pulls my face towards hers and our lips are just about to touch when I hear their voices.

"Hermione...?" I hear Weasel say. We brake apart and I spin around to look at them; it's Weasley and his little sister and Potter. When he sees me his face turns a shade of scarlet.

"What's he doing here?" he retorts.

"Visiting, just like you," I spat.

"You don't need to-"

"I have a right to come see her! After all, I'm in the tournament with her, am I not?"

"Ron, settle down," his sister says quietly to him.

"Why do you care anyway, Weasley, if I'm here? Still got feelings for her, ey?" I sneer. Hermione tugs on my sleeve, and I realize I had stood up. I sit back down.

"Stop this," Hermione whispers. "I don't want you two arguing over me."

"I know," I reassure her. I stand up.

"I was just leaving anyway. Happy now, Weasel? Potter?" I turn to Hermione before I leave her side. "See you in the morning," I say. I bend down and kiss her, then walk out of the room sniggering.

*HERMIONE*

I feel a rush of longing and disappointment as Draco leaves, but now I have Ron, Harry, and Ginny's company.

"That man is a nightmare, Hermione," Ron sneers.

"Well, maybe Draco's right about you. Still got feelings for me, have you?" I shoot back.

"Guys, c'mon, stop doing this," Harry says. "If Hermione...likes him...then let her be with him."

"Harry, that sounded like you were forced to say that," I say. "I know you don't approve like Ron."

Harry sighs. "It's just... We've all been enemies of his since the beginning. And now you're suddenly turning to him as a friend."

"More than a friend," Ron mutters.

I huff. "Well, once you get to actually understand him he isn't bad like we thought he was," I say.

"He's probably tricking you," Ron says. "He's probably just doing it as a cover up."

"And you're probably jealous," I spat. "And just shut up, Ronald. Just... just all of you, go." I point to the door.

"Hermione..." Ginny says, barely audible. I shake my head.

"Go," I say sternly. Ginny hangs her head and walks out with Ron and Harry.

*DRACO*

I stride back to the prefect's house and go to my room. I was rather disappointed when they came. They just make me jealous for some reason, probably because I've never had true friends like Hermione.

I start thinking about the past few days. The tournament, me and Hermione together... For some reason that last part didn't feel the same; it didn't feel right. I'd hate to break Hermione's heart. I can't tell her what I'm thinking about us. I just have to keep moving forward and keep this relationship manageable.