Weak

Merry early Christmas! Here's a little gift in case I don't finish my originally planned Christmas fic. ^^"

Hermione Granger happily walked into the Heads Common Room to see her fellow Head curled up pathetically on the couch.

"Granger," he croaked. "Graaaaanger. Help me, I'm DYING!" he choked out in a weary tone, his face contorted into a pained expression. Hermione's smile instantly fell off her face. She rushed over to the couch and knelt beside it.

"Malfoy, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm dying, Granger!" he cried out, trying to sit up, arms wrapped protectively around his waist. "It hurts so much!" Hermione slid into the empty space beside the platinum blonde Slytherin.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, eyes full of worry and concern for her good friend.

Yes, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, good friends. Without all the insults to her blood status, Hermione rather enjoyed his presence. And she knew not to mention his time as a Death Eater; he regretted it immensely, and Hermione knew not to talk about it. The past is done, and in this present, they were good friends. Besides, Hermione quite enjoyed debating with him. And gloating about her higher grades to him.

Hermione repeated her last question.

"No, I'm not okay!" he shouted. Hermione imagined he would have stomped his foot, had he been standing. "My stomach hurts like f—"

Hermione held up her hand. She highly disapproved of majority of swear words. "Don't say it." Her facial expression told him to not even dare and argue.

Draco scowled. "It hurts like sh—"

She stopped him again. "Don't say that, either."

Draco seemed to be getting even more frustrated. "It hurts like bloody he—"

"Nope."

"Agh!" Draco doubled over, head almost buried in his own lap. "It hurts like CRAP!" That word, Hermione did not mind as much, as she had heard her parents say it when they were frustrated, or when they dropped something. She even said it herself, every so often.

"Did you drink anything odd recently?" she inquired, placing a tentative hand on his back.

"Just that glass of milk you left on the counter last night, a glass of pumpkin juice at breakfast and lunch, and water at dinner," he mumbled, head still down. He lifted his head a few inches, eying Hermione curiously. "Why?"

"You drank the milk?" Hermione shook her head in disapproval.

"Why do you care?" he snapped, collapsing onto himself once again.

"It was spoiled!" she explained. "Rotten! No wonder why your stomach aches." She rolled her eyes her friends idiocy.

"Well fix it, Granger! I'm in absolute pain!" He groaned dramatically, causing Hermione to roll her eyes again. She got up and walked upstairs. "Don't you dare walk away and leave me to die!" he demanded as she walked away. "Wait, Granger! Come on! What did I ever do to you? Don't leave me here to die!" Hermione reappeared at the foot of the stairs, a small bottle and spoon in her hands with said hands on her waist, giving him an annoyed look.

"Drama queen much, Malfoy?" She snickered at him sat back down beside him.

He groaned, half in offense and half in pain. Well, mostly pain. But apparently, he still had the energy to be patronizing. "That's drama king to you, Granger." To which Hermione rolled her eyes fondly.

"Agh, it hurts so much, Granger!" he screeched suddenly. "Make it sto—" Draco shut up as Hermione shoved a spoon with sickly sweet, pink liquid down his throat. He swallowed, or more accurately, choked the liquid down.

"Oh the sweet sound of quiet," Hermione sighed in the brief moment where Draco was too stunned by Hermione shoving something into his mouth to react.

Draco shook his head as if to clear it. "What the bloody hell was that!" he demanded.

"It was stomach medicine, you impossible, swearing boy" Hermione explained tiredly. "You'll feel better soon." Draco raised an eyebrow at her, still not sure about the sickly pink liquid. "I promise," she added with a reassuring smile.

"Oh," was Draco's oh so intelligent reply. He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Granger."

She smiled at him before changing the subject. "Merlin, I didn't know you were weak enough to just let a mere stomach ache get to you."

The blonde pouted at the quip. "Sod off, Granger," he said immaturely. Hermione glared at him for his language, but he just ignored her. "I wasn't familiar with such sickness, being a Malfoy, so I wasn't used to its pain. That's all," he explained haughtily, nose turned up at her for dramatic effect.

"Of course it is, darling," Hermione said saccharinely all while smirking in amusement.

"Damn straight," Draco muttered.

"Stop swearing, you insufferable, little ferret," she snapped with a pout.

"Meh," he simply stated with a blasé shrug of his shoulders.

"Whatever." Hermione shook her head and stood up. "If you ever need more medicine, it's on the second shelf from the top in the left cabinet," she told him, concern for her friend obvious in her voice

"Okay," Draco replied, smiling at his friend. "Farewell, Granger!" he said as she walked toward the portrait hole.

Hermione opened the door of their shared Common Room and stopped, turning around to face the Head Boy. "Don't throw another fit, eh, Malfoy?" she said cheekily, giving him a friendly wink.

Draco chuckled. "And let you shove that pink shit down my throat again? Wouldn't bloody dream of it!"

Hermione scowled. "Stop swearing, will you?" she half screeched, half ordered, stomping her right foot in frustration. Draco just gave her an innocent puppy dog look. She sighed. "Get well, too, Malfoy," she added softly with a smile.

"Thanks Granger. You're the best," was what Hermione heard from her fellow Head before she stepped out of the Common Room and shut the door. She smiled to herself.

What a friendship they had.

Merry Christmas, you guys. You all rock. Oh, and a happy New Years!