not listening to this," she insisted, vehemently. "What they're forcing you to do is illegal! You can't be made to agree. They may have your father's life in their hands, but not yours."
"I signed an agreement. It's legal and binding." He braced more of his weight against the wall and shut his eyes. "Granger, II really think I need to lie down. My head hurts." There was such raw honesty in his voice that Hermione was instantly alarmed.
Malfoy was not one to blurt out that he wasn' t feeling well. He looked positively green. How could she have forgotten that he had been in bed, recovering from a concussion not two days ago?
"Where is your room?" she whispered. It seemed shameful that she didn't know where he slept. It was a tiny, personal detail she ought to have known. He didn' t respond. He licked his lips and looked like he was about to be sick. She touched his pale cheek.
"Draco?"
"It's over here," answered a soft voice. "I'll show you."
It was Pansy. She was standing in the darkness, wearing white satin pyjamas, matching, quilted bedroom slippers and holding a lit wand.
"Snape' s told him, then?" she stated, and then nodded before Hermione could respond. "Goyle and I only found out yesterday evening, in the paper."
Hermione was actually glad to see her. Slytherin House was foreign territory and she was less than comfortable navigating its dark corridors. "He' s not feeling well,"
she said, running the back of her hand under her running nose. "I think we should get Madam Pomfrey."
If Draco passed out now, there was no way the two of them could lift him without Leviosa. Hermione knew he'd hate it if she resorted to asking Snape for assistance.
It would have to be Parkinson.
Pansy shook her head. There were tears in her eyes. "I' ll help. We don' t need the nurse." She stepped forward, took hold of his arm and pried him, slowly, off the wall. He acted as if they'd dropped a bag of bricks over his head. He winced. Hermione was worried enough that she was about to run to fetch Madam Pomfrey after all, when Draco spoke.
"Panse," he murmured. "My mum's dead." The heavy emotion and familiarity in his voice caused Hermione to experience a twinge of jealousy, but she quickly squashed it, appalled at her selfish thoughts.
"I know, darling."
"It's fucked, Pansy."
"I know. Hush now, we're taking you to bed."
The situation would have been awkward if it weren' t so sad. He allowed them to loop and arm each over their shoulders. It helped that both girls were the same height. His room was at the end of the corridor, or so it seemed. Hermione had walked right past it with Draco, earlier.
She knew Pansy could have found her way there in the dark quite easily, and was thankful that the girl kept her wand lit, for Hermione's benefit.
The door to Draco's room was locked and it took Pansy a combination of Alohomora, passwords and old fashion doorknob jiggling to finally get the thing open.
"He's paranoid about security," she said, catching Hermione's look.
Once inside, candles on the wall flared to life. The room was exactly the same as Hermione's, if a little smaller. The ceiling was lower, too. His bed was not beneath a window, seeing as the dungeons did not open to the outside. It sat facing the door. His trunk was against the wall to the left, beside his desk.
The room was absolutely spotless, which was itself a surprise. There was a new, broomstick servicing kit sitting on the desk and a fortune in Quidditch gear hanging from brass hooks on the wall.
They took the few necessary steps to the bed and there, he collapsed. He put a hand over his eyes, rolled to his side and then didn't move a muscle. The light was probably bothering him. Hermione blew out the candles and then bent down to pull his shoes off.
Pansy let her do that, but stopped her when she went to his trunk to look for a night shirt.
"Leave it," the Slytherin girl said. "He either falls into bed with what he' s got on, or he doesn't wear anything at all."
Hermione didn't know what to make of that, so she didn't say anything. There was a chair at his desk, she started to walk toward it, but found Pansy standing in her path.
"You can't stay here, Granger. We don't do that. We never do that."