I've had this plot bunny prancing around my mind for a while. Forgive the short chapter; it always takes me a while to warm up!
Please review, as it gives me a good ideas of who is reading and enjoying it :)
The thick acrid scent of dark magic burned Hermione's nostrils as she ran across the smoldering field. What started as a simple scouting mission turned into a poorly balanced fight, as ten Death Eaters surrounded Hermione, Ron and Padma.
Set up, set up, set up, Hermione thought with each pound of her feet on the ground. They had received an owl with the location written in code. It had taken Hermione three days to crack it, and when she finally succeeded, Lupin had grudgingly allowed her to investigate.
A blur of red hair shot by Hermione as Ron sped by, drawing purple jets of light in his trail. She ducked behind a large oak tree to catch her breath. Her Portkey, a small silver phoenix pendant that dangled around her neck, began to heat up.
"Two minutes," she breathed out, bent at the waist against the tree.
A drop of blood on the decaying grass at her feet caught Hermione's attention. She whipped her head around; the fight was slowing as the Death Eaters began to retreat one-by-one. Hermione focused back on the blood in front of her. She found a small trail and her eyes followed it to an old, dead log. With all the stealth she could muster, she moved towards the fallen tree. A quiet, pained groan caused her to suck in her breath and hold it as Hermione peeked around the log.
The first thing that hit her was the metallic scent of blood that seemed to fill her senses until she tasted bitter bile on the back of her tongue. Even after years of war, Hermione had never quite adjusted to the scent and sight of blood- especially this much blood. It was pooled around a tall, thin body, clinging to the black fabric of the cloak covering the person before her. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Hermione leaned down to remove the shroud, uncovering the smooth, pale face of Draco Malfoy. She gasped quietly and pushed her fingers against his neck. His pulse was faint, and when she drew her hand away, a long-fingered hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.
"Please," he murmured quietly, opening his eyes halfway.
They were foggy and disconnected as he pleaded with her. His grip was crushing the delicate bones of her wrist, but the rest of him was lax and deflated.
"Malfoy, let go of me," Hermione hissed, the panic rising in her throat as her Portkey began to heat up again. She had thirty seconds before she was pulled back to Grimmauld Place.
"Granger, please. Where am I?" Malfoy's voice was shaking with emotion. He moved to sit up, but cried out as his wounds bled heavier. Hermione tugged her arm away, and finally, he let go.
"Granger, I don't know… Why aren't we at school? What happened?"
The phoenix pendant began to pulse in its countdown. Hermione studied Malfoy's face, hoping to detect some physical manifestation of his mental health. He was too thin- gaunt, even- and there were deep shadows under his silver eyes. The look of terror and eerie blankness in them settled her mind, and with a low growl, she grabbed his arm. He yelped in shock as the Portkey activated, sending them arse-first on the hard wooden floors of Headquarters. When Hermione opened her eyes, there were four wands pointed at Malfoy. Harry, Fred, George and Parvati all spoke at once.
"Hermione-"
"What happened-"
"Why is Malfoy-"
"Hermione!"
She groaned and grasped for her wand. Rolling up onto her side, she leaned over Malfoy's unconscious frame and began to examine his wounds. There were deep slashes across his chest, turning his black shirt even blacker. It clung to him, heavy with blood. She muttered rudimentary healing spells to slow the bleeding, while her audience watched in shocked silence.
"Get Remus," she ordered in between spells. A soft shuffle of feet told her that someone had obeyed her. A firm hand on her shoulder pulled her away from Malfoy as Remus ran into the room.
"I trust you know what you've done," he asked in a darkly deep voice. Hermione nodded quickly, as sweeping nausea took over. Remus sighed, then levitated Malfoy's body up the stairs. Hermione tried to follow, but Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"There's something wrong with him," she answered his silent question. "He didn't know when it was and he was going to bleed to death. I had to-"
"Bring him here, to our most secure safehouse?" Harry finished for her.
Her eyes searched the small audience. Fred and George had matching incredulous looks on their faces, while Parvati stared at her feet. The kitchen door banged open as Ron and Padma returned. Padma sidled next to her sister, while Ron stormed at Hermione, red-faced with anger.
"Tell me it's not true," he growled. "You can't be that daft, Hermione." Someone grunted in agreement as tears filled Hermione's eyes.
"He would have left you there to die," Ron continued.
"Are we measuring our choices by what Malfoy would have done now? We have to be better, Ron. I couldn't leave him there to die any more than I could leave you or Padma."
Ron let out a strangled cry of surprise.
"You're comparing me to that Death Eater? You should have let him die. He deserves to die."
With that, Ron left the room, slamming the kitchen door behind him. Fred and George followed him in silence, shooting one last disbelieving glance at Hermione.
Harry sighed, then wrapped one arm around Hermione's shoulders. She leaned her head on him as her body shook with quiet sobs. Padma and Parvati surrounded her in a hug as the exhaustion of the battle caught up with her.
Hermione awoke in the middle of the night, her muscles screaming to be stretched. With a groan, she pulled her blanket- one of Molly's quilts- off to roam the halls. Grimmauld Place was eerily quiet at night and the moonlight shone through the windows, giving the hallway a spooky glow. As her muscles began to relax, Hermione heard low whispers from the makeshift medical room at the end of the long hall. She paused in front of the door for a moment to listen.
"The last thing he remembers is fleeing with Snape after he let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts," Remus's soft voice explained.
"And his wounds?" Molly asked.
"Would have been fatal," Madame Pomfrey's answered, her voice quivering slightly with worry.
"Kingsley will be here in the morning. For now, he'll stay here," Remus said with a tone of finality.
The women murmured in assent and began to file out the bedroom. Hermione ducked quickly into the bathroom, pressing her ear against the door. When she heard three doors close, she snuck out and slid into the room with Malfoy. His torn shirt was cast aside, and for the first time, she could see the extent of his injuries. His pale chest was covered in deep wounds that led into the waistband of his trousers. Squinting her eyes, she could also make out a set of silvery scars from Harry's Sectumsempra curse from three years prior.
Hermione's eyes wandered to the vials of potions and creams on the bedside table. She had picked up a small bottle of pain relieving potion when Malfoy shifted in the bed next to her, letting a low groan leave his lips. She slowly turned to face him and felt the blood drain from her face when she met his grey eyes.
"You're awake," she commented lamely.
"And they call you clever," he drawled, his voice gravelly with disuse. "Potion," he grunted.
"What?"
"The potion in your hand, Granger. Give it to me."
"Oh," she responded quietly and held it out to him. Malfoy took a long sip, then tossed the empty vial on the floor. Hermione bent down to pick it up, rolling her eyes. When she opened her mouth to chastise him, he spoke first.
"That filthy werewolf says it's been three years." Her hand itched to smack him, but instead she nodded.
"Someone took three years of my life away from me and left me for dead."
"You could have been injured in the fight, or perhaps a brain injury could explain why-"
"Do me a favor, Granger," Malfoy said quietly, laying his head back on the pillow. "Shut the fuck up."
Hermione's cheeks burned and she clenched her hands into tight fists.
"A thank you would be nice," she spat, turning towards the door.
"Thank you?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "Certainly, Granger. Thank you for bringing me into the home of blood traitors and Mudbloods. Thank you for taking me away from my family and my duty. And a big fucking thank you for leaving me here to be babysat by a fucking werewolf!"
"You're telling me you'd rather be lying in a ditch, bled out, than here? Alive? I always knew you were a fool, Malfoy, but that takes the cake. I could have left you there, but you begged me! Begged me, the Mudblood! I can only imagine what your father would say-"
"Don't talk about my father!" he roared, attempting to lean on his elbows to see her.
"You ungrateful prat!" Hermione yelled back and reached for the door handle. As she closed the door behind her, she heard him mutter.
"You should have left me to die."