Even with Draco injured and feverish there was a delicious intimacy to this; a little bubble that safely encased the two of them – just the two of them alone – in warm, glowing torchlight, close cream walls, and hot chicken broth. Except that there was also a fragility in the air that made Hermione want to crawl into bed with Draco and wrap herself to him, place her palm flat on his chest and listen to his heart thudding steadily. He nearly died. He wants to be with her. He's going to be all right. They love each other. They will be all right. Hermione's head tipped down heavily as her eyes fell shut, and she jerked back into startled wakefulness, grabbing Innovations in Potions before it slid off her lap and landed on the floor.