This is a two part one-shot, I thought it was a little long to put up all in one go. Sorry if there are any speeling/grammar mistakes, I'm hopeless at proof-reading my own writing.
Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns all the characters and the world they live in, I just got random inspiriation while washing my hair.
Rating: T, a little swearing, nothing more.
Summary: Hermione is the only one in the Order who seems to trust Draco Malfoy. One night he returns to Grimmauld Palace badly injured, and the routine begins.
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Hope you enjoy.
Routine: It Started
No one else liked him, no one else trusted him, in fact, everyone else barely spoke to him. But she trusted him, deep, deep down she knew she could trust him with her life, he was risking his life all the time to help them, but even Harry ignored it when he came in battered and broken- no, battered and bleeding, never broken, Draco Malfoy would never be broken.
It started one night when he came back with a rather nasty gash on his right arm, it was the night before an Order meeting. Ginny had told Hermione once that Draco did this often – came back to Grimmauld Palace a day early – she didn't know why, he rarely uttered a word, and even then his speech was usually laced with insults.
She'd been up late reading when she heard him come in, she put her book down and tiptoed out of the living room, putting out the small fire she'd lit for herself with a wave of her wand. She found him in the kitchen, rummaging through a cupboard with one arm, the other was wrapped in a bloodied piece of cloth.
She gasped, and he turned to face her. "What is it, Granger?" his eyes were cold and piercing.
After a moment she found her voice, "w-what happened to your arm?"
"Nothing." He snapped, pulling the limp appendage to his side and turning back to the cupboard, shoulders hunched.
"Sit down." He turned around to say something, but she had a dangerously cool aura about her as she repeated the instruction, "sit down."
He did so, but wasn't happy about it, "I don't need your help," he snarled, "or your pity."
"Then you won't get it." She said simply, summoning some ointment and bandages, and marching over to where the death eater sat at the long wooden table. She carefully folded up what she had first thought to be a piece of cloth, but had turned out to be the remainder of his once-white shirt, and winced when she saw the long, thin wound that went from his upper-arm almost all the way to the back of his wrist. "It's deep," she whispered, half to herself, "this'll hurt."
"Don't you think it does already?" He sneered at her, but she ignored it and with a wave of her wand the wound was clean of blood and dirt. Hermione then applied the ointment as gently as possible, wincing every time Draco's pain showed through his cold exterior.
"Sorry." She whispered as she started bandaging his arm, wrapping the wound tightly, and hoping it would help somewhat. "I think Molly might have something for the pain, I could go look."
"I'm fine." He stood and pushed past her, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the small room on the ground floor that was left empty for him, not that anyone else wanted it, all there was in the room was an old wooden bed-frame with a sagging mattress and a thin moth-eaten blanket, a rickety wooden chair sat gathering dust in the corner and there was no electric light, instead a lamp was perched on the low nightstand, that could be lit with a wave of the wand, as Draco demonstrated as he entered the room.
"Granger, get out." He snapped, turning to face her a few steps from the door. But she continued to hover in the doorway looking at her bare feet. "Are you waiting for me to thank you, because if you are you're dreaming."
"I'll get you something to eat." She muttered, and then hurried back to the kitchen.
Draco rolled his eyes "bloody Gryffindors." He muttered, crouching down and undoing the laces of his boots.
By the time Hermione returned, bearing a tray of food and a rather thick book, Draco was sitting up in the bed, resting his back against the wall and trying not to shiver. She handed him the tray, then moved the chair in the corner so she could sit near the bed. She settled down and began to read, Draco watched her for a while, then started eating, he was starving.
After a while he shot her a glare and spoke, "why are you still sitting there?"
She looked up seeming startled at the sound of his voice, "oh, well, because…" she moved her eyes to the wall behind his head, his sharp grey eyes were too filled with hatred to look at, although she knew the hatred was not really directed at her, "because it's kind of lonely."
"I don't need company, especially not from you, mudblood." His voice wasn't as cruel as it used to be, it had lost its cutting edge since Snape had died, and – of course – since Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were killed on Lord Voldemort's order after Lucius' service was found not to be satisfactory.
"You mightn't, but this place is kind of creepy when it's dark." She ignored his last comment, he always seemed to be so angry nowadays, and she really didn't want to get in a fight with him.
"So you're sitting three feet away from an armed death eater, oh, how intelligent of you, Granger." He grabbed another bread roll and bit into it viciously.
Noticing the tray was now empty besides a few crumbs, she tapped it with the tip of her wand and it vanished, she looked back at her book, then a thought struck her, and she raced from the room, leaving Draco to raise a single white-blond eyebrow at her behaviour.
When she returned about twenty minutes later, she was positively beaming, "I've got it! I finally figured it out, Harry's going to be so happy." She smiled at the young man who was staring blankly at the wall a few feet to her right.
"Figured out what, Granger, that the earth is round?"
Waving away to biting comment she walked over and sat down again, "we were trying to guess where a few death eaters the Ministry is after were hiding, and I think I've got it!" she looked like she was going to squeal with joy, and Draco sincerely hoped not, his headache was bad enough already. "Oh, here," she held out a novel to him, he looked at it disdainfully, then rolled over to continue staring at the wall, "I think you'll like it, it's a very good book, and it'll give you something to do if you can't sleep, and I doubt you'll be wanting to come out tomorrow, Molly's trying to teach us all to cook, it'll be a mess." She reached further towards him and patted his shoulder lightly with the book.
"Fine, I'll take it," he ripped it out of her hand, "anything to get you to shut up and leave me alone." He heard a creek – her getting up from the chair – and light footsteps before the door closed and he was left alone in complete darkness.
--
The next day he was left in peace until about 10am, when Hermione slipped into the room holding a plate with two slices of buttered toast and a glass of milk. "Morning." She said quietly, placing the food on the nightstand and giving him a small smile, "how's your arm?"
"It bloody hurts." He was lying on his side and glaring off the side of the bed down at her shoes.
"Ok." She scurried out of the room, and soon returned with a small vial filled with a purple liquid, and held it out to him, he was now sitting up with the plate of toast on his lap and scrunched up his nose lightly at the potion, "take it willingly, or I'll force it down your throat."
"You wouldn't dare." He spat, his eyes narrowing even more when he saw the look of determination on her face. He grabbed the vial and tipped the liquid down his throat, then handed it back to her, before shoving the empty plate at her too. She took it, and he lay down and rolled over, she left quietly, taking the empty glass too.
She didn't reappear again until late afternoon, "sorry," she muttered as she came in with a rather large tray of food, "I brought extra to make up for being late, and some more of that potion." She stood next to the bed and looked down at him, "I know you're awake."
He grumbled and sat up, putting the novel she'd lent him on the nightstand, "ah," she nearly smirked, "it's rather good isn't it?" he replied with a grunt. "The meeting's at eight, if you want to come out for dinner, it'll be at around six, but that all depends on how long Molly has to scold Ron for steeling food before it's ready, and when Tonks gets here to help out." Another grunt. She turned to go.
"Why are you doing this?" his steel grey eyes met hers as she turned around again, and held them, she opened her mouth to speak, but;
"Hermione!" it was Harry.
"I-I've got to go, I'll tell you later." She slipped out of the room, leaving the tray of food on the chair and closing the door with a quiet click.
--
Just before the meeting he crept out of his room, and made his way up to the first floor room where the meetings were held. He gave his report and sat down as soon as he was done, using words sparingly and not looking at his audience.
When the meeting was over he headed straight for the front door, but was called back by none other than Hermione, "I need to go over a few things with you." She waved a small pile of papers as she raced towards him, then lead him back down to his room, closing the door behind him.
"Here," she held the papers out and he took them, glancing at the printed letters before looking up to make eye contact with her, "destroy them as soon as you've read them, it's a mission, I'm sorry, but it's urgent, and we can't trust anyone else with it." Her eyes begged forgiveness for putting him in danger, then flicked to the floor, "also," she took out a small package from her pocket, wrapped in brown paper, "some medicine, bandages, and some of Molly's chocolate pudding."
He took the package a slipped it into his robes, "pudding?" he quirked an eyebrow.
"Molly insists that everyone loves her chocolate pudding, and you're the only person I know who's never tried any, just checking to see if her claims are true." She smiled at him, then opened the door, "you're in a hurry, right?" he nodded and brushed past her.
