As promised, a new story! I own nothing.

Chapter 1

Darkness.

Cold.

Pain.

That was all Hermione Granger could process.

Captured by Snatchers in the woods, Hermione and her travel companions, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, had been taken to Malfoy Manor. There, the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her, casting the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly until Hermione blacked out. There was no telling how long she had been out, how much time had passed, but she was alone in a small, dark cell with no wand and no way to escape.

Her entire body ached, muscles protesting, as she tried to sit up. Weak from the pain and lack of food, she propped herself up against the closest wall and shut her eyes. A faint light shone through her eyelids, but it hurt too much to open them. She heard the squeak of a rusty door, and then a soft voice.

"Can you walk, Granger?"

Obviously delirious, she was sure that it was Draco Malfoy who had raised the question. Her eyes opened just enough to make out his silhouette before slowing shaking her head. The light moved, nearing as she heard footsteps approach. She should have been afraid. Malfoy was a Death Eater, after all. But exhaustion was all she could feel, and so she allowed him to do whatever it was he had planned. One arm around her back and the other beneath her knees, Draco lifted her and began to walk.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice hoarse from screaming and lack of water.

He said nothing as he climbed the stairs, careful not to drop her. They reached a landing and Draco stopped, as if hiding, then started up another staircase. Though she made no attempt to fight him, it didn't stop her from asking what he was doing. "Just be quiet," he hissed impatiently. "I'd really rather not get caught."

Hermione did as he said and rested her head against his shoulder. When he finally stopped, she heard a door open, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was half a minute before he moved again, as if he had been using that time to make a decision. Another door opened and she heard water start to run. "Do you think you can bathe yourself?" he asked.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, squinting against the brightness of the bathroom lights. "I...I'm not sure," she replied. "Why are you doing this?"

Once again he ignored her question, set her down on the vanity, and began removing her dirt stained shoes. "I'll call up one of the elves to help you," he decided. Nodding, she leaned back against the mirror and shut her eyes. "Do you need anything first?"

"Water?" she asked.

Nodding, he filled a cup with water from the tap and held it to her lips. "Slowly," he cautioned. She took tentative sips despite her desire to drink the whole thing in one gulp. "Potter stole my wand. Just before they escaped, we were dueling, and he disarmed me. You were out cold and my aunt was holding you up by your hair with her knife pressed against your neck. They didn't even try to...they just left."

Hermione's head snapped up and she had to brace herself against his arm as the room spun. Her friends had left her in the hands of Death Eaters. It didn't explain why Draco Malfoy, of all people, was now helping her though. Perhaps he pitied her. It seemed more likely that he had been tasked with getting information from her. She had so little to give.

"Malfoy, why are you doing this?" she asked once more, praying that this time he would answer.

He refilled the cup and handed it back to her. "I have my reasons, Granger," he said cryptically. "Let's just leave it at that. Inky will help you bathe and dress. I'll have food waiting for you in the room. You really should eat something."

He left the bathroom and called for a house elf to tend to her. Sinking down at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, Draco realized he had just made a grave mistake. By saving Granger from the dungeons, he had put their lives in danger. Someone would soon notice that she was missing and come looking for her. And they would find her in Draco's private quarters.

Stepping out of his room, he locked the door behind him and went in search of help. His mother's study was located at the opposite end of the hallway, and he prayed she was there. He breathed a sigh of relief to find that she was alone, but panic soon reclaimed him. "I've done something stupid," he told her.

Narcissa Malfoy looked up at her only son with concern in her icy blue eyes. "What is it?" she asked, beckoning for him to shut and ward the door.

He did as he was told, then moved toward her desk. "I took Granger from the dungeons," he told her. "She's lost a lot of blood, I think. That wound on her arm hasn't stopped bleeding. Mum, she was down there for three days. It's a miracle she's still alive."

"Where is she now?" his mother asked, getting to her feet.

"My room," he mumbled sheepishly.

Nodding, she left the study and swiftly walked to Draco's room. He undid the complicated series of spells in place to keep everyone else out and opened the door for her. Inky had just exited the bathroom and stopped short upon seeing her mistress. "It's alright, Inky," Narcissa said calmly as the little elf pulled her long ears nervously. "Where's the girl?"

One long finger pointed to the bathroom and Narcissa moved passed her to check on the prisoner. Soon the distraught elf was summoned back to the bathroom. Seconds stretched into minutes, and Draco began to wonder what could possibly be happening. He hadn't been asked to help, and so he remained in his room. Food had been delivered for Hermione, and he feared it might grow cold.

"Draco? A hand?" Narcissa called to him. He entered the bathroom to find that his mother had dressed his classmate in warm pajamas and a thick robe. "She's weak. Put her arm around your shoulder for support. We'll put her in your bed for the time being."

"She's shivering," Draco said. Instead of doing as he had been told, he lifted her up as he had before and carried her into the room. "Inky, start a fire and bring some more blankets. Hot tea as well."

Inky did as she was told, leaving Draco and his mother alone with Hermione. Draco laid her down on his bed and pulled the blankets over her. Sighing, he sat down beside her and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry about this, Mum," he said.

Narcissa smoothed back his hair and smiled. "You did a good thing sweetheart," she assured him. "But this won't end well."