Hello everyone. If you're brand new then it's lovely to meet you. To my regular reviewers who have stuck with me through the previous four stories – welcome back! I feel like I haven't written in ages! I hope you enjoy this new offering. It was a little skeleton of a story that kept haunting me for about 2 years and now here we are…

Hopefully I can get back into a routine writing schedule. Maybe not as frequent as I have been in the past, but I never abandon a story and I always try my best to follow through as soon as possible after my terrible cliff-hangers.

Yes, there will be romance, drama, plenty of angst and slow burn. And for anyone who's read my other pieces you'll know I really like to try and tie my stories as cleverly as I can into canon (I hope!), so don't expect any wild rides into parallel dimensions or anything.

On to the new story…. enjoy!

The Fall

By Emara88

Prologue

May 6th, 1997

Hermione hummed to herself quietly as she sorted the vials and jars in front of her out into neat, alphabetised sections. The clinking sound of the glass tapping together as she worked was rather relaxing. She would pause every so often to scratch a batch number onto the parchment to her right, logging which potions were under-stocked and which had exceeded their expiration date. It was a peaceful task, and just what Hermione had needed after the day she'd had.

It wasn't that she blamed Ron and Harry for ignoring her. They were both a little caught up in their various emotional dramas. Ron was still sulking over his break up with Lavender and trying to avoid the gossiping blonde as best he could by hiding away in the boy's dormitory or by scheduling extra practices on the Quidditch pitch. Harry on the other hand was busy puzzling over the new information Dumbledore had provided, while also moping over his feelings for Ginny Weasley and secretly hoping her break up with Dean would last this time. Hermione rolled her eyes briefly as she thought about her famous friend. He was clearly pining for Ginny. He was also lucky Ron was the most oblivious wizard on the planet, because Harry was, as usual, terrible at concealing his feelings for his friend's little sister.

And on top of all that, she didn't even want to think about Horcruxes right now. She'd poured over every book in the library that might even mention the subject – even in the restricted section – and had found nothing. It was disheartening to realise her precious library didn't hold the answers to something for once.

Luckily for Hermione, Madame Pomfrey had fortuitously interrupted her morose thoughts that evening as she left the Great Hall after dinner. The matron had asked her for some help with the hospital wing's potions stock take and she'd been only to happy to help out. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd worked alongside the kindly healer in the hospital wing. She always enjoyed helping out, whether it was brewing basic potions, organising the hospital inventory or supervising younger students while Pomfrey dealt with a more serious case. It was good experience. She had learned a lot about healing, and had even been caught wondering whether it was something she'd be interested in later after school.

Her musings were brought to a sudden halt by the sound of the same Madame Pomfrey calling her name. The healer sounded panicked, her tone more urgent than she'd ever heard before, reaching even into the back storeroom where Hermione was working. She dropped her quill and hurried out. There at the side of one of the beds she saw the healer leaning over a pale figure, mirrored on the other side by Professor Snape. They were working at a furious pace. She sidled forwards until she could see who it was. It didn't take long to figure it out; the delicate pointed features and white blond hair gave him away instantly.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Hermione gasped in horror. He was shivering and clammy, and there was a long, deep gash running down over his sternum across his chest. His white shirt and black school robe were soaked with a mixture of water and blood. Even though she normally couldn't stand the sight of the arrogant Slytherin boy, in that moment Hermione felt her heart clench in sympathy and fear for him.

Professor Snape saw her arrive and glowered at her.

"We need three vials of blood replenishing potion," he spat at her and she jumped at the sound of his normally silky voice sounding so frantic. When she turned and started jogging to the storeroom he shouted, "Hurry damnit," and she broke into a full sprint.

Hermione found the item quickly – she had just been doing the inventory after all, so it was possible nobody knew these stores more intimately than her right now – and raced back to Malfoy's bedside. As she handed the vials over, Madame Pomfrey's gaze was drawn to some notes at the bottom of the medical chart levitating beside her.

"Oh for goodness sake…" the older woman groaned, planting her hands on her hips and staring critically down at the blond Slytherin, "He's allergic to Ashwinder eggs."

Professor Snape swore under his breath, uncaring of his younger audience. Hermione's mind quickly ran through the steps of brewing a blood replenishing potion and realised it did indeed contain Ashwinder eggs. Her heart skipped nervously. She listened to the two professors bickering back and forth about alternative potions for a while, while Malfoy quickly grew more and more pale between them.

"Um…Professors…" she cleared her throat anxiously, stepping closer to the bed. She noticed his lips had started turning blue. The matron grabbed the vial of dark ruby potion, letting out a long sigh.

"We're going to have to just administer it and deal with his nervous system's reaction as it happens. If his allergy is in the typical range, then we will need to prepare for possible seizures and numb lock."

Hermione nodded.

"What can I do?"

"Keep applying warming charms for now, and we'll wait and see…"

Madame Pomfrey was all business then as she tilted his head back and poured the contents of first one vial and then another down his throat. She massaged his neck to make sure he swallowed it properly. Hermione watched in relief as his skin slowly went from almost translucent to a much healthier pinkish hue. She kept applying warming charms to his skin with a gentle tap of her wand. After a few minutes she almost let out the breath she'd been holding.

That's when he started shaking.

"Okay, here we go, brace yourselves" the healer warned them firmly, taking charge as she always did when her patient was at risk. It wasn't long before the shaking had turned into convulsions. "Severus, you keep working on his wound, we need that thing sealed up or he'll only keep damaging it. I'm going to work on his nervous system. Miss Granger, I need you to come up here."

Hermione moved up to where Pomfrey was gesturing, right next to Malfoy's left shoulder.

"I'm going to bind his arms and legs, but I need you to hold his head as still as you can so he doesn't injure himself. Can you do that?"

She nodded sharply, moving into position. Malfoy's head was starting to thrash a bit from side to side, his eyes roving wildly under his eyelids. She paused tentatively for a moment as she pocketed her wand, her hands half outstretched. Would he mind her touching him? Would he be angry? Disgusted? But a groan of pain from him made her leap into action, ignoring these doubts. She leaned over the blond boy and grasped his face between her hands, holding him steady. He whimpered, and his skin was damp with sweat. Hermione had to exert quite a lot of pressure to stop him moving.

When a strange gurgling sound escaped him, she looked down at his mouth with a twinge of worry.

"I think he's choking on his tongue," she announced, but the two professors were too busy running through their own spells at a rapid pace, chanting incantations almost in sync.

Remembering something she'd seen at her muggle primary school many years ago, Hermione silently summoned a clean stirring rod from the storage room. There had been a boy in her class who'd once had an epileptic fit and the teacher had done this. She jammed the rod between Malfoy's teeth and he immediately bit down on it. The rasping, choked sounds gradually stopped and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She looked up briefly to check on the others' progress and met Professor Snape's direct black gaze as he stared calculatingly at her. He gave her a quick approving nod and returned to his task. Hermione felt her pulse speed up a bit and flushed with relief that she'd done the right thing. But her attention was quickly drawn back down to the Slytherin boy as he groaned and jerked against her hold on his head.

"Unngh…"

She almost released her grip in shock as his eyes opened and his dazed, foggy gaze roamed wildly across the ceiling. His steely grey eyes were clouded with pain and confusion, but he was conscious.

"Malfoy?" she croaked, not sure what she was supposed to do now that he was awake. Madame Pomfrey was still working furiously away nearby, although his shuddering motions had subsided somewhat, which must be a good sign.

"Talk to him," Professor Snape commanded in between healing chants, "Get him to stop thrashing."

Hermione swallowed and nodded, leaning further over him. Now that he was with them again, she gently removed the stirring rod from his mouth and wiped up some drool with a cloth. Then she held his head steady once more and cleared her throat nervously.

"Malfoy? Can you hear me? Malfoy?" he didn't say anything, but his eyes connected with hers with a wild intensity that shocked her, "You're in the hospital wing. You've been a hurt, but you're doing great…um…"

She wasn't sure what else she was supposed to say. But Malfoy was staring up at her desperately now, as though she were the only anchor tying him to this place. He looked confused and his gaze begged her for something, though she wasn't sure what.

"I need you to hold on for me, okay Malfoy? Everything is going to be alright, I promise. Hold as still as you can and try to take a few deep breaths…"

He moaned a bit and she saw his eyes slide down as if to look down at his body, which was still half cut open from whatever wound had been inflicted.

"No, no, no, look at me," she told him firmly in her absolute bossiest voice. When he still wouldn't respond and kept trying to move, she snapped, "Draco Malfoy, keep your eyes on me at once. You need to breathe. Stop moving."

He seemed to follow her orders then, a bit stunned but obedient.

"That's good. Now I want you to take a deep breath when I do. Ready?"

She breathed in slowly, and watched with relief as Malfoy copied her movements. She held it for a second and then exhaled, please when he matched her precisely.

"Good. Again."

They repeated this pattern a few times until she felt he had calmed down a bit.

"Okay, Malfoy, I'm going to let go now, I want you to lie as still as possible. If you don't, Professor Snape is probably going to give us both a month's worth of detentions for making his job more difficult."

She tried to smile reassuringly at him and he almost choked on what sounded like a mix between a sob and a laugh. Hermione slowly released her hold on his head and sighed happily when he seemed able to keep himself in check. Madame Pomfrey placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"You did well," she murmured, and she was amused to see a muscle in Snape's jaw twitch reluctantly, which she could only assume was his way of trying not to praise her efforts himself. Malfoy whimpered a little bit as Pomfrey made him drink a vial of nerve tonic. This time he could swallow it himself. Feeling strangely compassionate towards the boy torn open on the bed in front of her, Hermione stayed by his side for the next couple of hours as the two older professors continued working. She reached out hesitantly when he seemed to be in pain and stroked her hand through his hair. Later Hermione wouldn't remember a word she said to him, but she just muttered soothing nonsense as her fingers glided comfortingly across his scalp. She placed a warm compress on his forehead and monitored his temperature, or even just held his hand sometimes. Anything to help. And the whole time she did this, Malfoy stared up at her gratefully, his steely grey eyes a portrait of conflicted emotions. He didn't say a word, but neither did he look away from her for even a second, drinking in every word and gesture she used to sooth his troubled mind and body.

It seemed like more than two hours later that he finally let sleep overtake his senses. By then his pain was mostly eroded and there was an air of quiet exhaustion among his three healers. They had done it.

Later in her dormitory, Hermione smiled softly to herself and chuckled as she thought of the strangeness of what had happened. She had comforted Draco Malfoy, she had caressed his hair and talked softly to him and he had welcomed it. Even yearned for it. And although he'd probably pretend it never happened the next morning, in that moment his eyes had pleaded her for more. It was almost absurd. But it made her oddly happy to realise that even the infamous Slytherin git wasn't wholly evil.

A month later after the Death Eaters had stormed the castle and killed the Headmaster, Hermione escaped to her dormitory and cried bitter tears of loss. Not for Albus Dumbledore, but for the poor terrified boy who had once let his muggleborn enemy stroke his hair and whisper gentle words of comfort in his ear. That boy was gone. He had made his choice. And he was never coming back.

….

….

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Chapter One

27th July, 1997

Hermione fiddled nervously with her wand as the group of wizards and witches split up into pairs and arranged themselves in a line across the front lawn of Number 4 Privet Drive. She let out a shaky breath and looked around at the various members of the Order. It was probably the oddest group of people she'd ever seen. There were identical Harry Potters all around her, accompanied by a rather motley crew of defenders ranging from the hulking figure of Hagrid to the clumsy, petite Nymphadora Tonks.

Hermione looked down at her own strange, masculine body. Harry was a scrawny teenager, and it was truly bizarre feeling herself in his form; he had fairly muscular arms and legs, no doubt from playing Quidditch, but the short scruffy hair and bad eyesight were a bit unsettling.

"Get ready," Moody barked.

She looked up at her companion, Kingsley Shacklebolt, when the command came. The tall, imposing auror nodded and gestured for her to climb onto the back of the thestral in front of them. She tried to ignore the rather grim knowledge that she could see the beast now in all its dark, skeletal glory. Having had a close experience with death wasn't exactly something she relished, though she was still thankful that she wouldn't be riding an invisible creature like last time, before the night at the ministry.

It wasn't long before the seven potters and their guardians lifted off into the air. She sent a worried glance towards the real Harry who rode alongside Hagrid. She hoped he wouldn't do anything foolish and self-sacrificing. He hadn't been happy about this plan, not wanting to put others' lives in danger for his sake. Typical Harry.

The group rose up in the air, and Hermione felt the weight of the eerie silence fall around her as they ascended through the low hanging rain clouds. Her ears were filled with the pounding thrum of her pulse.

For a few moments it seemed as though they would push through directly with no contest. The air was charged with electricity, but otherwise appeared to be devoid of any assailant, cloaked or otherwise. But that hope quickly faded as a flash of lightning illuminated the night sky. A mass of black figures materialised out of the darkness. The crack of thunder that followed was almost drowned out by the sudden cacophony of spells sizzling through the air.

Hermione's senses were clouded by a tangle of colours as curses ricocheted around the clouded atmosphere. Her chest constricted with terror, but she took only a few split seconds to grip her wand more tightly and throw up shields to defend them both against hexes fired their way. Kingsley steered the thestral into a downward arc, dodging a few death eaters and picking up speed. She deflected a few spells as they did, clearing a path for them towards their destination.

"Very good," he yelled in her ear as she narrowly caught a curse hurled their way, "Watch to the left! I'm going to head towards our safety point."

She clenched her thighs tighter on the beast as it swerved in and out of the swarm of death eaters. Hermione was surviving on pure adrenalin. She flicked her wand so fast it was a blur as heat and fire rushed towards them around every wisp of cloud.

It was only when a sharp sting made her right shoulder crumple that Hermione realised she'd been hit by a stray curse. She panted for a moment, gasping for air against the pressure in her sternum. A shiver passed through her body. Then her skin started crawling. With a grunt of shock she felt her bones shift and the hair lengthen from the tugging feeling on her scalp. She looked down at her body in horror to realise she was transforming back into her regular self. Maybe the death eaters had been prepared to search for the real Harry Potter if they were tricked, she thought frantically. Harry's clothes felt baggy and restrictive on her for a few minutes before they responded to the charm she'd set and transfigured themselves back into her own outfit from before.

"Hold on tight, Hermione," Kingsley shouted above the din of noise, "We need to get out of here now!"

There was a welcome reprieve as they ducked under a crowd of death eaters and Order members fighting and found some free space. They were hurtling away from the fighting now at top speed. Hermione drew in a shaky breath, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Then out of nowhere a slender, cloaked figure emerged from the mist to her left, off to one side from where Kingsley was steering them. The auror didn't see the lone death eater's appearance as he kept up their furious pace.

Hermione eyes widened and she clenched her wand, ready to defend them. Her unbound curls were whipping around her face now and she cursed, wishing she still had Harry's shorter locks.

The death eater seemed to lift his own wand in surprise and point it their way. But then something very strange happened. He almost pulled up his broom to slow down as his hand faltered. Although his face was hidden by a mask, she could almost imagine the stunned look of horror on the person's face. And before she even had time to really think about it, she realised something astonishing. He wasn't going to fight them. In fact, he'd stopped completely in mid-air, just watching them silently as they went to pass him. He even lowered his wand.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

They were almost in the clear.

Thunder boomed around them as Kingsley veered towards their safe house. Hermione couldn't help herself. She tilted her head backwards to watch the death eater who had let them go. He was just hovering there against the backdrop of the flashing clouds, unmoving and staring silently at them.

She felt her breath leave her in a sigh of relief and dropped her guard.

That was when a second figure appeared. He practically shoved passed the first death eater, yelling at him to get out of the way. Hermione didn't have time to react. The curse hit her in the same arm as before and an arc of blue light sent a wave of agony through her body. She felt her hand spasm and the next thing she knew her wand flew, cracked and broken into the muggy summer storm, releasing a sad shower of sparks as the curse tore through it.

Hermione cried out in dismay as her vision started to blur.

That's when the thestral took the second hit.

She distantly hear it howling as its body was wracked with convulsions. The two humans were launched from its back into the night sky.

"Hermione!"

Kingsley's voice called to her desperately, but it just sounded foggy to her now, as though he were very far away. The blue curse trickled up to her chest where it burrowed beneath her ribs and sent a wave of icy numbness out from her sternum through her entire body.

Hermione whimpered, gasping for breath as the air battered her fragile body. She felt nothing around her, not the solid warmth of the thestral beneath her nor the strength of Kinglsey at her back. She was drifting… her mind and body empty, like a dried leaf captured by an autumn breeze.

The dual sounds of battle and thunder faded around her.

The darkness grew.

And then there was only the feeling of total weightlessness as she began to fall.

…

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Yes, I'm still a fan of terrible cliff-hangers. I can't help myself. Let me know what you think so far and what you hope to see in this story! Thank you!