Wanderer

Her

Chapter Seventeen- Her

Draco didn't know why but she'd been avoiding him. He hadn't seen Granger in over a week, not since that day when he'd held her in his arms as she slept, fever clinging to both of them. He hated to say it but it panicked him. What if she remembered the searing of his lips on her forehead? What if the thought disgusted her, the fact that she'd let her guard down for a Death Eater to touch her?

It wasn't just that they hadn't seen each other, they had. Draco had run into her in the library, where she'd offered him a smile then immediately returned to her book on medieval law, and then again in class, where she hadn't even spared him a glance. Granger also skipped out on their evening meetings. Draco had waited until just before curfew the past few nights but he'd arrived and left alone.

When he saw her sitting on the banking of the Black Lake, he paused and watched her for a moment. There were books scattered around her, on the frosty grass, but she sat with her head tilted back, facing the sky. She had a robe wrapped around her, with her horrible pink coat buttoned over the top and wore her hat, scarf and gloves. Draco almost cursed her. She was never going to overcome a fever if this is what she spent her time doing. She might as well go swimming in the Black Lake naked. Not naked, his mind hastily corrected. Definitely not naked.

The November morning was unusually bright, with yellow sunlight streaming over the mountains, falling on the whitened grounds, lighting them up. It was cool and fresh on his skin as Draco made his way down to meet her.

"Hello," he said, once he got close enough.

Granger looked up at him. "Oh, hello." She turned back to the sky and the lake.

Draco frowned but cleared his face quickly. "Can I join you?"

"Of course."

Sitting beside her, the wetness of the grass seeped through his trousers in no time and he rubbed his arms to try and preserve some heat. His breath solidified as soon as it left his lips. Draco glanced at her and when he noticed she wasn't even shivering, demanded incredulously, "How are you not freezing to death, Granger?"

She rolled her eyes. "An incredible thing called magic, Malfoy."

The use of his surname took him aback. He blinked. Regaining his composure, Draco slipped out his own wand and cast both a drying and warming spell over his body, relishing in the immediate heat that licked his veins. He flashed her a smile. "You're a tricky witch to find, Granger, you know that?"

"It's often the case when said witch doesn't want to be found," replied Granger dryly.

Draco squinted, looking out across the lake. He spoke slowly, quiet and hesitant, not knowing if he had the right to ask, "Have I offended you in some way?"

Granger sighed, finally looking at him for longer than a fleeting second. She said, "No, Draco, you've done nothing of the sort. My brain just overworks itself. What did you call it? Incessant-"

"Prattling," he supplied, then flushed. "What are you thinking about?"

There was something piercing in her eyes, something almost calculating, as she looked at him. Draco didn't know whether to feel reassured or unnerved.

"Something both significant and not."

"How very vague," he rolled his eyes.

Granger smiled a little. "I'm afraid you wouldn't find the contents of my thoughts very entertaining."

"On the contrary," said Draco. "Once, I would've have given my inheritance to know the contents of your thoughts."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Let me guess, during OWLS?"