Draco Malfoy's Biggest Mistake

by cenagurl

Disclaimer: HP doesn't belong to me in any way… this is my compensation to those who got angry with me because I still haven't finished Bittersweet, or any other of my fics for that matter.

R&R! c:

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It was probably the biggest mistake he had made in his seventeen years of existence.

He underestimated her.

Inwardly cursing, Draco Malfoy tried to ignore the throbbing pain of the long, deep gash the filthy mudblood bitch had impaled on the side of his face in their fight a while ago. No matter how much he struggled against the chains she had bound him with, he couldn't get it the hell off him.

Damn that mudblood, he thought, releasing a weary sigh as he rested his head against the cold dungeon wall.

He knew she brought him to Hogwarts, their group's current sanctuary. It was a place Voldemort himself cannot cross--- its walls had been sealed with the protection of Albus Dumbledore even before his death.

His head snapped up when the door swung open, revealing a girl with long curly mahogany hair and shrewd amber eyes. In her right hand was a small basin, and a kit was clutched in her left.

She settled herself in front of him and wrung the water-sodden towel from the basin.

"Get away from me, mudblood." He spat out.

The girl merely rolled her eyes as she wiped the blood at the side of his face. He wouldn't admit it to her, but the cool towel felt damn good against his wound.

After wiping the wound clean, she placed back the towel in the basin. He watched, fascinated, as the blood from the towel began floating and mixing with the water, making it brownish pink.

"Ouch! What do you think you're trying to do, mudblood?" he roared out, cursing at the stinging feel of whatever she had dabbed on his wound with.

Again she did not answer him, just gave him the same beady look McGonagall used to give him every time he misbehaved in class, then dabbed some more of the horrible medicine on the gash on his cheek.

She did the same with his other wounds while he watched silently, feeling so bewildered with what was happening. The mudblood was healing him. And he was letting her!

As she dabbed the last of his wounds, she straightened up and gathered her things. Before closing the door behind her, she turned to him and said, "I'll come back with food,"

"I don't need food, damn it! I want to get the bloody hell out of here!"

"If you don't want food, then I'm going. See you tomorrow,"

"Fine! Bring me the goddamned food!"

He felt deflated as the door slammed loudly behind her. He never imagined he would end up this, way, stuck in a dungeon with a mudblood caring for him. He, Draco Black Malfoy, a mighty pureblood and proud Death Eater, was under the mercy of the enemies!

He wanted to howl at the absurdity of it all. He wanted to kick anything within range, but unfortunately, his legs were shackled with heavy chains.

After a few more moments of disturbing solitude, the door swung open once more, and a cursed waft of mouth-watering roast chicken reached his nostrils, making his stomach protest loudly in hunger.

The girl settled herself before him and gave him a questioning look. "Would you like to drink first?" she asked.

"I don't give a bloody damn what to do first, just remove these chains so I can eat in peace!" he thundered out, but she did not seem one bit intimidated by his tone. She did look a mite exasperated though.

"I'm no fool, Malfoy. Now open that foul mouth of yours," she ordered as she shoved a forkful of meat into his mouth. He savored the tangy taste of the food in his mouth, then opened it again to receive a humongous piece.

He choked on the overly huge piece the mudblood had just crammed into his mouth, and she quickly lifted the goblet of pumpkin juice to his eager lips.

Neither spoke another word as she continued to feed him, but both were becoming more and more watchful of each other's presence. When she had fed him the last morsel of food and let him sip the last drops of the juice, she slowly stood up and took the empty plate and goblet.

"You aren't going to let me sleep in this bloody dungeon, are you?" he burst out as she turned to leave.

"You are sleeping here," she said. "Good night, Malfoy."

"Wait!" he called out. "Can't I at least have a blanket? It's damned cold down here,"

The girl gave a laugh. "A prisoner, making requests to his captor? Alright, since you asked so nicely," she said, then returned a few moments later carrying a thick wool blanket.

With surprising gentleness she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, rose and left without a word as he stared at her retreating form in complete bafflement.

The following weeks consisted of the same ritual; the mudblood brought him food, tended to his needs, all the while engaging into half-exasperating, half-enjoyable battle of wits with him.

Although he hated to admit it, he liked her company. And curse him, he even missed her when she wasn't around!

Then, one day, she didn't arrive at the usual hour she was supposed to meet him. The little Weaslette came instead, and she entered the dungeon with tear streaks on her face, a bowl of food in one hand.

"Where's Granger?" the question came spilling out of his mouth before he could stop himself. The female redhead burst into another fit of sobbing, which slightly confused and annoyed him.

"Answer me, Weaslette," he ordered in a voice he usually addressed to their house elf servants at the manor.

Ginny gave one hiccup before saying, "Hermione's captured by Death Eaters,"

Well, damn.

Just when she was starting to grow on him, she gets herself abducted by those ruthless killers.

Then, shockingly, a nauseating worried feeling clawed in his stomach, and for a moment he thought he was actually fearing for the mudblood's safety.

Then, the sudden realization hit him like a bullet in the heart.

He did care.

"When has this happened, Weaslette?" he asked, trying to sound calm, but his voice came out harshly instead.

Ginny wiped the last of her tears and turned to glare at him. "Why do you care? It's not as if you're on our side anyway," she said vilely.

Hell, the chit was making it even more difficult.

"I might be able to give information," he replied through gritted teeth. "Has your so-called 'order' begun searching for her? If they don't act quickly, all you might be finding of her is…" he stopped, not even daring to say it himself.

He wanted to get out of that bloody dungeon, track her down and strangle her for being so stupid. And he thought she was smart, but letting herself be caught by Death Eaters?

"Of course they have already started searching for her, you stupid git!" Ginny answered angrily. "And who in their right mind would trust you with information? We are not yet losing our marbles, Malfoy!"

"If your minds are still as intact as you say it to be, then why the hell haven't you still found her?" his voice had risen as well, his anger simmering just below the surface.

The little Weasley girl did not answer, instead dumped the bowl unceremoniously on the floor and unlocked his cuffs.

"Eat," she muttered, not knowing what dangers she had just ensued by freeing him of his chains. But his escape will also benefit them, he thought, as he pretended to grab the bowl of food. He would take the mudblood from the Death Eaters and return to the place his dead father had vacated and his mother died torturously for—his place as one of Voldemort's trustees.

Then, when he felt rather than saw her put her guard down, he swiftly knocked her to the floor as he grabbed her wand.

"Don't worry Weaslette, I'll rescue your little mudblood," he said before uttering a jinx that sent her into sudden slumber.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He had been welcomed back to the Death Eaters' lair with open arms.

The Dark Lord had immediately questioned him with what had happened during his imprisonment in Hogwarts, and when he finished giving him satisfactory answers, he was quite free to do his own devices.

Now he walked down the dungeons were the captives were caged away, glancing at each cell to see if the mudblood was there. As he trudged the long dark hallway, he bumped into Goyle, who was patrolling at the moment.

"Any new prisoners?" he asked casually, knowing the stupid oaf would fall neatly into his bait.

"Not really," Goyle answered, scratching the back of his head. "So you managed to escape Hogwarts huh?"

Malfoy nodded, looking bored.

"So, who are the pathetic people you're guarding this time? They must be the dumbest assholes in the world for getting captured here,"

Those were the magic words indeed. Goyle loved people whom he though are stupider than him. Unfortunately, there was no person who is dumber than him and his crony, Crabbe.

"Well, you wouldn't believe this, but the mudblood Granger has been taken here a week ago, all proud and arrogant despite being caught, but Zabini and the others have got her temper and arrogance under control now,"

He felt his stomach coil with fear at what Goyle had said. What had they done to her?

"I'll take over for you now, Goyle," he hardly found his voice to speak. "You deserve a rest for guarding such unbearable people so fastidiously," even he sickened himself as he uttered those words.

Goyle couldn't seem to believe his luck.

"Really? Thanks mate, my bed has been summoning me all day long," the oaf said, leaving Malfoy the keys then disappearing upstairs back to the chambers.

That was easy, he thought as he scrambled to find the little mudblood.

He found her in the last cell at the southwest wing, and the sight of her made him realize he still indeed possessed a heart, which was painfully tearing itself into tiny pieces.

She was bound by shackles on the wall, her naked body bruised and bloodied. He wondered how she could not have even uttered a moan of pain, her thick brown hair a wild disarray, covering her face and her breasts.

Soundlessly he walked over to her and brushed away the long surly strands of hair from her face, which he saw bore gashes and swollen bruises that had slightly disfigured her features.

How could those bastards do that to her? When he had been held captive in Hogwarts, he had not experienced anything like this. Instead of torture, they had taken care of him and had succumbed to his needs.

Granger had never hurt him. She fed him, assisted him to his needs and even entertained him while he was locked up in the dungeons. And now, when she was the one locked up in their dungeons…

Malfoy's hands tightened into fists. He wanted to kill those bastards, each and every one of them. He was shaking with rage, but he reminded himself that he needed to get her out of this hellhole first.

"Granger," he whispered, and her eyes quickly snapped open, alert but the same time fearful. When she saw him, she gave a low gasp of surprise.

"M—Malfoy—"

"Yes," he answered, cursing when he felt his throat thickening with emotion. He was not going to cry, damn it! "I've come to rescue you,"

She did not respond to his statement, just stared at him as though assessing whether she should trust him or not.

"Who did this to you?" he asked softly, pointing his wand to the chains that bound her, and he caught her weak form in his arms as the cuffs released her.

Instead of answering, she burst into hapless tears that wrenched his heart. Awkwardly he patted her head, saying in a soothing voice, "Don't cry, I promise I'll take you away from this blasted place,"

With utmost care he wrapped his cloak around her while she continued to sob on his shoulder.

He was startled when she asked him in a muffled tone, "Are you going to kill me now?"

"Hell, haven't you listened to what I said? I came here to rescue you, mudblood, as your so-called friends seem to be doing a poor job at it,"

Again she did not reply; she must have gone unconscious, because now she hung limply on him, her breathing very shallow.

Without further ado, he had smuggled her out of the castle, knowing his treachery would mean his death.

Still he pursued, running back to Hogwarts with the half-dead mudblood in his arms. McGonagall had been the one who saw them first, and the old lady had quickly burst into tears when she saw Granger.

She questioned Malfoy while the mudblood recuperated in the hospital wing, and when she was absolutely sure of his sudden loyalty, she had permitted him to stay in the castle.

He quickly went to the hospital wing while McGonagall told the news of Granger's, as well as of his arrival.

He rarely left her side while she recovered from her injuries. Even when his nemeses Potter and Weasley nearly killed him when they saw him sitting there by her side, quiet, unmoving.

McGonagall and the other senior member of the Order interfered just in time; after explaining what he had just done, they had grudgingly avoided him and rarely bothered him at all.

"Malfoy,"

It was she who had awakened him, one cold evening just when he had dozed off.

"You're awake," he said hoarsely, looking thoroughly relieved. Her wounds and bruises had already faded slightly, although she still looked very weak.

"Where am I?" she asked in a raspy voice, thanking him when he handed her a glass of water.

"Where do you think you would be if you're feeling safe?" he asked, rolling his eyes at her.

"In heaven?" she asked hesitantly, a teasing note in her voice.

"Sorry Granger, the Almighty wasn't kind enough to grant you blissful death. Too bad you're still here, alive, in Hogwarts,"

Granger gave him a smile that caused his stomach to do several flip-flops. "I know," she whispered, staring off into space.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, and she shot him a surprised look.

"Can you pinch me? I think I've gone off to dreamland again. No, wait, on second thought, don't. My whole body aches," she said, wincing as she tried to sit up.

Malfoy quickly assisted her, and when she was able to sit, he said, "I'll call Madam Pomfrey, she'll know what to do with you,"

"Wait,"

Malfoy turned back to her, looking incensed. "What is it now?" he barked, rather than asked.

"Why did you rescue me?" came her query, her voice echoing across the empty hospital wing.

"I felt like it," he answered for the sake of answering, turning away again but her voice halted him.

"Answer me!"

With a frustrated sigh, he sat back on the cushioned chair he occupied when he stayed by her side and faced her.

"It's the least I could do, after you took care of me when I was imprisoned here," he answered in resignation.

"Tell me, what did those bastards do to you?" he asked, bitterness lacing his voice. "Did they—did they—"

He couldn't seem to get the words out. He didn't need to, because from the sudden silent tears rolling down her cheeks, he assumed he was right.

Damn, he was going to kill them all.

Wordlessly he walked over to her and took her in his arms, letting her cry against him, wishing he could absorb the pain she was feeling right now.

When her tears subsided, he let her go, muttering he needed to fetch Pomfrey as he left her alone in the infirmary.

He needed air; the whirlwind of emotions within him brought him confusion. He knew it had been perfectly impossible, or so his father had told him, yet the proof beat within his traitorous body.

He cared for her.

Now what?

The mudblood who had been branded as something not worth his attention had somehow wedged herself in his most vulnerable spot and now he would have to bear with her.

Or she would have to bear with him.

"Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing here outside my room in the middle of the night?" Madam Pomfrey shrieked, halting his train of thoughts.

"She's awake," he said simply, and those words sent the matron running down the hallway towards the infirmary.

"What's going on here?" Weasley suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and he was glaring spitefully at him.

"Granger's awake, Weasel, why don't you go tell Potty and the others?" he said silkily, before turning and leaving the redhead standing in the hallway, too shocked for words.

"Oi, Malfoy!" he yelled before he could turn a corner. He stopped walking but did not glance back at the speaker. "Are you going back to the Death Eaters now that Hermione's well again?"

He wondered if Weasley heard his snort. "And what, get myself killed for betraying them? I hate to disappoint you but I'm staying here whether you like it or not, Weasley,"

He left before the git could say another word.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He finally had her alone with him once more after another week. She was still at the hospital wing, although the color seemed to be returning to her cheeks.

"Draco,"

She had surprised him yet again when she called him by his name. Somehow it sounded just right coming from her lips.

"What is it, Granger?"

Damn but he still couldn't get himself to say her name.

She gazed at him with her coffee brown eyes, the shafts of sunlight emitted from the windows framing her face beautifully.

"I wanted to say thank you for saving me," she said, almost shyly, as her cheeks turned slightly pink to his utmost curiosity. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have survived…"

Her voice trailed off, as though she was expecting him to say something.

But what would he say? You're welcome?

"Well, aren't you going to answer?" she asked challengingly, an eyebrow raised.

Hell, now she's in for it. She wants an answer?

With surprising agility he closed the space between them and gave her his answer.

As her arms slowly circled around his neck, he thought about what he had been thinking when she had brought him to the Hogwarts dungeons.

He really had underestimated her.

After all, who would have thought he would fall in love with her?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A/n: And that's the end. c: I hope you enjoyed it… if you did, please, please press that review button below… c: advanced happy new year by the way!