#dramione, fluff, domestic life
Draco woke with a start, his chest tight and breathing restricted. His head felt heavy as it lay on his pillow, and he licked his dry lips as he struggled for breath.
"I'm dying," he rasped out, voice barely audible. No one would be able to hear him, and he would
Draco woke with a start, his chest tight and breathing restricted. His head felt heavy as it lay on his pillow, and he licked his dry lips as he struggled for breath.
"I'm dying," he rasped out, voice barely audible. No one would be able to hear him, and he would
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The sheets rustled as he felt movement beside him, a hand pressing to his sweaty forehead.
"I'm afraid it's terminal," a voice said softly. "You might not make it to the end of the day."
"What is it?" Draco wheezed.
A soft sigh sounded next to him. "Little Bitch-itis."
Her smirk was palpable as he glared at her. "You are such a drama queen. You've got a cold, Draco."
Draco flopped back onto his pillow, groaning as he covered his face. "I feel like death."
"Yours wasn't this bad."
He peeked out from behind his hands to watch her place her hands on her hips, lifting one brow challengingly.
"I just didn't bitch
Hermione flicked the covers off him as he rolled over with a groan.
"I can't, Granger, I'm dying."
"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. Alright, Mr. Terminal Illness, what do you need from me?"
Draco sniffled. "To take me out as
Hermione sat back down with a chuckle. "I'm afraid I can't do that, I'm not sure Azkaban could handle me. How about some ginger and lemon tea, then chicken soup for lunch?"
Draco nodded meekly. "That might suffice."
"I'll send an owl to the office to let them
"Maybe tomorrow too."
"Draco," Hermione chastised him.
Draco sighed. "Fine. I think I know something else that might make me feel better."
"What's that?"
"A cuddle?" Draco asked hopefully.
The sheets rustled as Hermione climbed back into bed beside him, wrapping her