Unconsciousness

to yankeesdtr

Hermione shook as she lay on the ground, feet from Voldemort and Harry's duel. Her head pounded mercilessly and the world spun around her. She could only make out the flash of green and the soft thud that reached her ear. She whimpered as someone reached her and placed a hand on her back before whispering some sort of spell that sent a green ray of light in the duel's direction. Another thud, and she shook violently as the colors faded from her and the world went black.

Hermione, it'll be okay. Everything will be alright. I've got it under control. You're safe. It's all over.

Hermione couldn't answer. The voice sounded so familiar, and yet, so foreign. She ran her tongue over her cracked and dry lips, shivering again. She knew she was dying, she'd lost so much blood. She only hoped Harry and Ron were alright.

Then she recalled Ron lying flat on the ground, his face as pale as the first snow of Winter, not so much as a single breath stirring in his lungs. Lucius had gotten to him, when Ron had gotten between the man and Harry and her. It was because of Ron, that she and Harry had been able to leave the main battle to find Voldemort. He was dead, and if she knew it would bring back Ron's, she would gladly give her own life. It was clear to her now, however, that Death wasn't about to make any bargains. She would die, and it would be in vain. With a soft sob, she gave into the comforting sleep that beckoned her.

A faint bird's chirp reached her ear. If she was dead, this was definitely not a sound she'd expected to hear. In fact, she hadn't expected to hear anything at all. Nor feel anything, but the utter pain that consumed every muscle in her body was enough to tell her that she was very much alive.

With a little difficulty, she opened her eyes but shut them as the light that ambushed her caused them to water. This time she took time in opening them, adjusting them to the light. She then looked around and found that she was lying in a bed in a room at St. Mungo's. She was slightly confused as to how she had gotten there and when, and was tempted to get out of bed and find a Healer for some answers when the sharp pang in her leg convinced her to stay and wait for the answers to come to her. She didn't have to wait long.

The soft click of her door opening, directed her attention to the door. Molly Weasley entered with Nymphadora Tonks, whose hair was fashioned light brown and straight to her shoulders, at her side. They were chatting and both grew deadly silent the moment their gazes fell upon her.

"Hermione! You're awake," they cried in unison. Pushing the door open, Tonks called into the hallway. "Get the Healer and the Minister. She's finally awake."

Hermione watched as the entire Weasley family, excluding Ginny and Ron, entered followed by Remus Lupin. Ginny entered a few moments later, announcing that the Minister would arrive soon and the Healer would arrive as soon as he finished with another patient. Hermione was dumbfounded at their utter surprise that she was awake and told them as much. They all fell silent until Lupin, placing his hand on her shoulder, explained that she'd been unconscious for two years. Voldemort had been defeated, and they'd been worried that she would never wake.

"You've given us a right scare, Hermione," Molly said with a teary smile. "Ah, Minister. You see, she's finally awake."

Hermione's eyes darted to the door just as Neville Longbottom entered. She blinked as she took in his suit and soft smile as he made his way towards her.

"Minister?" she squeaked and cleared her throat. He merely nodded. She took it all in and smiled at him.

"Well, that certainly is news. I suppose it's a little late, but congratulations."

Everyone laughed. Hermione took in everyone's faces faces, and now realized that someone wasn't there that should have been. Especially if Voldemort had been defeated. She frowned and pushed back the feelings of dread that threatened to overcome her.

"W-where's Harry?" she asked softly, though she knew the answer. Neville frowned as everyone else fell silent.

"Hermione, listen," he said softly and placed his hands on here shoulders. "The prophesy was wrong. It wasn't Harry who had to defeat Voldemort. It was me, Hermione. I realized that as I saw you and Harry leave the battle in search of him. I followed and it was lucky I did. It was too later for Harry, but I was able to kill Voldemort before he killed you as well."

Hermione began to shiver as she shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "No, no. He's not. He c-can't be. Please, not Harry! Not him too. Ron... Harry... no, please no!" She glared at Neville. "Why didn't you just let me die! You should have! You had no business saving me! Without Harry and Ron, I have nothing. You should have let him kill me!"

"Someone get the Healer," Neville whispered.

"No need, Minister. I'm here," a new voice said. Everyone cleared a path for him, and Hermione's eyes widened as they landed on the man making his way towards her.

"You," she hissed. "You evil, selfish bastard! There's no way I'm letting you touch me!"

A grin fell upon the blond Healer's lips as he raised his wand and whispered something inaudible that rendered her unmoving and silent though her eyes threatened to burn holes in the material of his robes. Neville laughed a bit and shook the Healer's hand.

"Sorry about that, Draco," he said. "I should have warned you there might be some er.. issues, considering yours and Hermione's past. We'll leave you to your work, then."

Draco merely nodded with a slight smirk. The others followed the Minister out with some resistance. They were not as quick as him to trust the man standing before them.

"We will return in an hour," Lupin said firmly, allowing Tonks to pull him from the room after the Weasleys. As the door shut behind them, Draco turned his attention to the woman lying upon the bed once again. Her eyes still burned with utter loathing. He sighed.

"Look, Granger. You need to get off your bloody high horse and realize that I had nothing to do with the battle that night. For one, I wasn't even at Hogwarts, as I was on the run with Severus, and two, don't you think that if I had been planning to kill you, I would have done it already rather than waste my breath and time? No, I don't believe so, either. You'll always be a filthy little Mudblood in my eyes, Granger, but there isn't anything I can do about it, and I'm past caring. So, we're going to get through with this as fast as possible and you are going to cooperate. Don't get me wrong, I can't stand you and it's as obvious as the light of day that the feeling is mutual, so just let's pretend to get along until you're healed. The faster that happens, the faster I can be rid of your bloody know-it-all self. Now, I'm going to unspell you, and I expect that you'll act like a civilized adult so that I won't regret doing so." He waved his wand and Hermione's body relaxed, and though she said nothing, the fire in her eyes said it all.

With a pleased sigh, Draco made his way to her bedside, his wand still in hand. She stiffened slightly every time his wand made contact with her skin, but she worked hard to keep as relaxed as possible. When he placed his wand to her neck and pressed his mouth to her ear, however, she gasped, eyes widening.

"So, Granger. Tell me. How does it feel to know that both your precious Weasel and Potty are dog meat? Hmm?"

Hermione opened her mouth to let flow a string of death-wishes, but any words were muffled as her mouth was suddenly covered by Draco's own mouth. She struggled slightly, but found her arms were pinned to the bed by a much stronger Draco, who pulled away with an amused grin present on his face.

"Now, that's not very nice, Granger," he said softly. "We agreed that you wouldn't say nasty things. Be a good little Mudblood and let me finish my diagnosis."

Releasing her, he put his wand away in the pocket of his robe before placing his fingers at the pulse points on her neck. He then proceeded to take a look at her arms and legs. When he drew down her blanket and attempted to lift up her gown, Hermione hissed and held it down against her legs.

"As flattering as it is to you, Ms. Granger, I am not attempting to feel you up. I am merely checking to be sure that your muscle mass is at a proper level since you've been asleep for two years."

Hermione reluctantly let go of her gown but left fer arms at her sides. Draco resumed his work, pressing gently into her sides and as he began to raise her gown up to her neck, Hermione's hand collided with the side of his face. With a low growl, he gripped her wrist and glared at her.

"Granger, I am not in the slightest attracted to you, so please let go of your girlish fantasies and allow be to do my job."

He felt only a slight pang of guilt in accompaniment to his pleasure in the growing red hue surfacing Hermione's face. Releasing her wrist, he lifted the gown and carefully began to touch her right breast, checking for any sign of something wrong. He would have continued on to the next breast without a thought, but just as his hand brushed her nipple, Hermione's quick intake of breath and soft whimper reached his ear. He withdrew his hand but Hermione grasped his hand and placed it on her breast once more. He then made the mistake of looking at her, the look of pure ecstacy evident on her face causing his blood to boil and settle in a very unappropriate spot between his legs. His mouth went dry and he had to clear it before he spoke.

"G-Granger, you need to release my hand. I will go and get another Healer, a female Healer, to finish up the diagnosis.." Hermione shook her head.

"No, please stay, M-alfoy. I need you to... to touch me. So long... it's been. Touch me, D-draco."

He shivered as she arched into his touch, and slowly he touched her, trying unsuccessfully to tune out her laboured breath and soft moans. His unoccupied hand found its way to the front of his pants and he slowly started to rub himself through them. Merlin, he knew he shouldn't be allowing this to happen. His mind, however, placed a very arrousing picture of him taking Hermione right then and there.

A noise just outside the room caused Draco to jolt to his senses. He pulled his hand away as fast as if her skin had burned him.

"Stupid Mudblood," he hissed, adjusting his robes to hide the obvious arrousal beneath them. "Are you bloody fucking trying to get me fired? Lower your gown. I'm assigning you to a new Healer."

With that, he turned on his heals and left Hermione, lowering her gown, to stare confusedly at the door as it closed behind him. With a sigh, she raised the blankets over her and kicked herself mentally.

What in Merlin's name had come over her? Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?

As she turned onto her side, allowing the sudden sleepiness overcome her, she found that she was quite content in never aquiring the answer to that question.