If Only in My Dreams (Dramione)

Chapter 5: The Plan

Much like he had the previous evening, Draco Malfoy stood above his bathroom sink and splashed cold water on his face. This time, the action did nothing to calm his nerves.

Had it really only been last night that he and Granger had laughed and danced together at the Ministry Christmas party? It felt like another lifetime.

He glanced at his tired reflection in the mirror. He looked as exhausted as he felt, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

He watched the water going down the drain, noticing it was tinged pink, from his own blood dried on his forehead mixed with Hermione's, which had stained his hand as he heal[TM1] ed her cut.

He frowned, recalling how after he healed her, he had noticed the large bloodstain on the carpet from her wound, when she had lain on the ground under the Body-Bind Curse. He had not known she had been injured when he left her down there. She looked like she had lost a lot of blood.

The thought made him wonder if he should have forced her to eat something, or left a plate for her in her room, even though he had been serious about not wanting her to eat in there because of mice. The house had been infested with them when he had first arrived, and he didn't want to add another extermination to his ever-growing list of problems.

His plan was not going as smoothly as he had hoped. All along, he had thought interrogating Granger at her flat would be as far as he would need to drag her into this. Bringing her here, holding her hostage to get to Potter—that had all been plan B.

Unfortunately, because she hadn't been able to tell him anything about Potter's whereabouts while under the effects of the Veritaserum, he had no choice but to resort to the second part of his plan. A plan which, he was finding out, was much messier.

He shook his head, recalling how threatening he had acted towards her. He knew it was wrong, but he felt she was much less likely to give him trouble if she thought he was dangerous. Although, clearly, that hadn't even deterred her from trying to overpower him.

He raked a hand through his hair, then leaned with both hands over the sink, releasing a shaky breath. He hadn't intended to be so cruel to her. It just came naturally.

Remembering the events that had transpired between them that evening, and especially how she had looked at him, with such loathing, reminded him of what they were.

Enemies.

Draco stepped into the shower and let the hot, heavy stream of water ease the tension in his neck and wash the rest of the dried blood away.

Last night at the Christmas party, under the luxury of being disguised as someone else, he had found himself enjoying spending the evening with her. She was kind, witty, brave, charming, and beautiful. Perhaps it was simply the fact that he hadn't had anyone to talk to in so long but, Merlin help him, he had liked being with her.

He shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. It was ridiculous. If he was going to spend the next week with her, he needed to guard himself against such absurd thoughts.

After all, even though he had found himself surprised to have enjoyed her company last night, her feelings towards him certainly hadn't changed. Not that he could blame her for that. He had bullied her in school, played a large role in the death of her beloved headmaster, and had stood there and done nothing as his deranged aunt had tortured her in his family's home.

Draco's mind flashed back to that summer evening when the Golden Trio had been marched into Malfoy Manor by Snatchers. He remembered the dread that filled his heart, knowing what was in store for them, fearing he would be forced to take part in it. Even at that point in his life, Draco had begun to abhor Voldemort's methods and the Death Eaters' activities.