The Dark Side (A Dramione Story)

Chapter 11

When Hermione walked into the library and saw Malfoy perched in her armchair once again, she groaned outwardly and marched over to him, powered by indignation. She knew there were plenty of other seats that weren't occupied, but that had been her chair since her first year at Hogwarts.

"Look, I'm sorry, but that's kind of my chair," she said with more force than she thought she could muster. "I know it seems insignificant, but it's just that-"

"No, it's fine. I'll move," he muttered after a moment, then stood up and gathered his things. She felt slightly ashamed as he lifted his pile of heavy-looking textbooks, realising how childish she was being. She was about to apologise and tell him not to worry about it when she a loud thump echoed through the library. She looked down to see Malfoy's textbooks sprawled all over the floor, as he just stared at them in shock. He quickly bent down and started to pile them up again. Hermione noticed that his hands were shaking violently, and dropped to her knees to help him.

"Malfoy, your hands are shaking really bad." Instinctively, she reached over and grabbed his right hand. "You're so cold. Are you ill or something?"

He pulled his hand back, looking slightly repulsed that she had touched him. "No, I'm fine. Just leave me, I can do it-"

She gasped as an almost visible wave of exhaustion hit him, causing him to lose his balance. His back hit the side of the armchair, and she reached out to stop him from tumbling over. His eyes were open but they looked distant.

"Malfoy, what's happened? Talk to me, how do I help?" She cried, but there was no response. She noticed that several people had starting looking at them, which she knew was the last thing he would want.

She decided that she needed to get him out of there, so she put on of his arms around her shoulders and hoisted him up, with great difficulty. A fourth-year ran up to her and offered to help, but she waved him away politely. Strangely, Malfoy was lighter than she expected. He felt like a bag of bones.

Half-carrying and half-dragging him, she made her way to the staircases. She planned to take him to the hospital wing, but as she started to move down a set of stairs, he mumbled something to her.

"Please... please just take me to our rooms. I'm fine, I swear. It's... it's normal."

Her gut was telling her that he needed to be taken to Madam Pomfrey, but she decided to listen to Malfoy. If he was well enough to talk to her, it probably wasn't that serious. Maybe he just had low blood pressure, she had learnt about that in Muggle Studies.

So she went upstairs instead, which was obviously much more difficult. When they finally arrived at the door, she opened it and lugged him the last few steps. After gently laying him on the couch, she summoned a wet cloth and pressed it to his forehead. He slowly regained full consciousness and opened his eyes, so she backed away, remembering his look of repulsion when she grabbed his hand.

"Thank you... for not taking me to the hospital wing," he said with a weak voice.

"Malfoy, what the hell is wrong with you?" She sounded concerned, but he just chuckled quietly.

"Where do I start?"