"Draco... Draco..."
The voice sounded somewhat familiar. Draco was pulled out of his reverie by the voice. He forced his eyes open and found a faint candlelight shining from the niche in the wall lamp.
This is the Hospital Wing.
Everything was dimly lit, but the girl's eyes shone through, appearing watery.
"Oh my goodness, you are awake!" She rushed over and hugged his neck. It felt like something wet and warm was pressed against his neck, making him feel hot and flustered.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice choked with emotion.
Draco's voice was hoarse. "Not so good."
"Does it hurt somewhere?" Hermione asked worriedly, sniffling.
"No," he said weakly. "I am just not feeling well."
"Oh, Madam Pomfrey said you need to drink some Elixir to Induce Euphoria." She rubbed her eyes, quickly got up, picked up a narrow-mouthed medicine bottle from the cabinet next to her, and waved it in front of him.
"All right," Draco mumbled, trying to get up, but he was too weak to move.
"It is all right, it is all right, do not force yourself, I will feed it to you." Hermione coaxed him softly, leaned over, and carefully put the thin nozzle of the medicine bottle into his mouth, telling him to suck.
Draco was taken aback by this sudden tenderness and care, and a feeling of grievance suddenly welled up in his heart.
On the one hand, his weak and powerless state made him feel ashamed. He was cold all over, feeling as if he had just been pulled out of an ice cave, and could only let the medicine slide down his throat, even swallowing felt tiring and exhausting;
On the other hand, few people would show him kindness. Apart from his mother, no one would coax him so gently; and even if someone wanted to try, he, being proud and unruly by nature, would not give them the chance easily.
And now, this girl was actually coaxing him, so affectionately and skilfully. She was even wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, being incredibly considerate.
Draco hummed contentedly, closed his eyes drowsily, and heard her place the empty medicine bottle on the bedside table with a soft, crisp clink.
"How are you? Are you feeling better?" Hermione leaned closer to him again, touched his forehead, and observed his complexion with concern.
As she drew nearer to him, her delightful scent became unmistakable. It wafted down from her hair onto his face, flowing through his nostrils and washing away his weariness and melancholy.
"I am feeling better." Draco felt his strength slowly returning, opened his mouth, and regained his normal voice. "How is Harry? Is he all right?"
"He is resting over there," she gestured to him with her eyes.
Draco slowly turned his head to look at Harry's bed... a silent figure was wrapped in the sheets.
"He was not in a good mood, so Madam Pomfrey gave him a Sleeping Draught to help him get a good night's sleep," she whispered in his ear.
"Any other news?" he asked listlessly, reaching out to grab a strand of her hair.
"Professor Dumbledore is furious. You should see him yelling at the Dementors. He chased them all off the grounds..." Hermione smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair.
"Very good," he said lazily.
"Gryffindor lost the match. They are all down, especially Wood. But he admitted you played very well and won fair and square." She looked him over and noticed he still seemed a little listless, which made her a little worried.
"Anything else?" he asked absentmindedly, continuing to hold onto her hair.
Hermione glanced at Harry, who lay motionless on the bed. She whispered in his ear, "And also, Harry's flying broomstick was smashed by the Whomping Willow, and he will not throw away the pieces."
His good godfather will probably buy him a Firebolt, Draco thought sourly. Sirius Black, what a spendthrift. Look at his extravagant behaviour, he is a true pure-blood Black.
"Anything else?" He rubbed that strand of hair, as if he could not get enough of touching it.
"Several of your classmates who used the Patronus Charm you taught them conjured Patronuses to try and protect you. Luna Lovegood's hare, Seamus Finnigan's fox, Ernie Macmillan's boar, Cho Chang's swan... it was quite a spectacle!" she whispered to him.
"The professors were all amazed. I wager you did not notice at the time, did you? Oh, Ginny was so talented! She was only a second year and she conjured a horse..."
"I only saw an otter... for a moment..." Draco remembered the otter.
Who could forget Hermione Granger's overly lively Patronus? In his past life, he had been quite astonished, finding the Patronus completely unlike her serious and rigid personality.
Looking at it now, it suited her very well. A clever, adorable little thing, was it not?
"Yes... that otter," she said thoughtfully. "It was the first time I successfully conjured it. I think I was probably too worried and too angry at the time, which triggered a part of my conviction."
"So, your Patronus cannot take shape not because you are not happy enough... it is purely because you do not believe you can?" he asked with difficulty, his tone tinged with surprise.
"You could say that," Hermione said, her eyes crinkling.
She had never expected that anger would unexpectedly ignite her fighting spirit to become a Patronus.
"You always manage to surprise me, Hermione Granger." After a pause, Draco looked at her and said softly, "The otter is beautiful."
She gave him a smug smile. "My Slytherin friend, I now understand the benefit you spoke of... the benefit of teaching someone the Patronus Charm."
"Oh?" he said lazily, waiting for her to continue.
"So that you can be saved by your students today, is that it?" she said, quipping. "Is that the benefit you meant?"
"It is ridiculous," he said dejectedly, ignoring her teasing. "The students have all managed it, but the teacher still has not. It is not because of a lack of conviction, nor because of a lack of anger."
"Are you lacking happiness?" she asked sensitively, a hint of worry in her voice. "Are you... unhappy?"
"Probably." He felt the strands of hair slipping through his fingers and could not help but bring them to his face and breathe in their scent.
This scent is quite pleasant.
"Once you are better, should I not try to find some joy for you?" Hermione said anxiously, looking at his listless appearance.
She had been terrified by the Dementor incident that day and wished he would immediately conjure a complete Patronus. "I have been wanting to ask you this for a long time, how can you be unhappy? You lack nothing, you are rich, you are good in studies, surely have loving parents, everything is so perfect..."
"Yes, Draco Malfoy, who should never know sorrow, how could he not be happy? What an insatiable little wretch... He is probably just forcing himself to be sad..." Draco said sarcastically, closing his eyes.
He did not know what was wrong with him today.
It seemed like the switch he used to control his emotions was broken. He could not stay calm, could not be rational, could not be patient. He was depressed and negative, selfish and wilful. He spoke without thinking, without considering the consequences.
It must be a side effect of the Dementors' attack, he thought resignedly, still unwilling to let go of the strand of hair.
"That is not what I meant." She leaned closer to him, her eyes sparkling with worry, and stroked his platinum blonde hair. "Would it not be better to be happier? Smile more. You... you look beautiful when you smile. Your usual gentle smile is nice, but your wide, open smile is the most beautiful..."
"Oh... is that so..." He squinted at her, his voice slightly unsteady.
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