Hello! The timeline right not isn't the same as in the books/movies, but it will be eventually, so if you're going to start with that, just no.
"Crucio!" The jet of light hit the limp body of the girl, jangling her and making a scream erupt through the walls, bouncing back in an echo. The shooter of the spell's hand shook.
"Good job, Draco, you've finally made me proud of you." Lucius Malfoy stood up and sneered, stretching the sagging features of his sunken face. "You can keep her for the night, but remember that we need information," his bejeweled hand tightened on his cane, "or you know what will have to happen."
Before anybody could react, Lucius lunged forward and stabbed a dagger into the girl's side, not to deep, so that half the blade was sticking out. The girl's mouth opened soundlessly, making little groans. "I'll start the progress."
Draco gulped, nodding frantically. Lucius curtly stepped out of the room, slamming the door shut and saying, "Come with me, Wormtail."
The girl squeaked, trying to squeeze her wound closed. He levels his gaze, trying to keep himself calm.
"So, Mudblood, what do you know? Tell me and it'll make it easier for the both of us," or just anything, he thinks, even a lie I can feed my father and stop this.
Since the day before, Muggleborns were brought from being captured and questioned about the Order. None had answered yet so now girls were brought in, and when this one was, Draco was chosen for the torture.
He shook his head and pleaded with Lucius, but his father struck the staff over his sons back a couple of times and shoved him inside, composing himself.
"I-I'm not going to tell you anything, Malfoy," the quiet voice gasped, and Draco recognized it immediately.
Hermione was Hermione, just a worn down version. Her wild curls were wilder, hanging frizzy everywhere like a mask. The soft curves she had were still there, but one percent less behind the skin. And the skin covering it wasn't a creamy pale, but sickly. Yet, her golden-brown eyes were the same, bright and intelligent, but a bit sad right now and another emotion, one Draco couldn't quite place.
"Granger?" Draco asked dumbly, nether the less, even though he obviously knew. Hermione didn't say anything, just put her head down, shaking a bit, making the shackles attached to her wrists jangle.
The knife was still digging into her side, and she was doing nothing to take it out, her breath hitching. "Granger, the dagger."
She nodded and shook her hands weakly, "It isn't like I can do anything about it Malfo-" the dagger dug in deeper as she tried to sit up and gasped, crumpling back down.
Draco flinched and kneeled slightly, grabbing the hilt of the dagger, "Brace yourself, Her- Granger."
Hermione nodded, closing her eyes tightly and turning away. The blade slowly slid out, glistening scarlet like the patch of shirt where it had been plunged into. Hermione made a tiny screech of pain and a tear ran down her cheek.
The metal clattered against the stone as it fell and blood pumped out of the wound, thick and spreading over her clothes and floor. Draco's face whitened and he started to panic, hurriedly looking around for something to use as a bandage.
There was nothing so he told her to keep calm as he ran up the stairs, checking for anybody, and going to his room. He grabbed the cloth bandages he kept in there and a blanket. When he got back, locking the door, Hermione was slumped forward, eyes closed, and skin chalk white.
"Gr-Granger?" Draco whispered, kneeling near her. "Hermione?"
"D-Draco?" Hermione sputtered, seeing him, an apparition in front of her. His white-blonde hair was a halo around his pale face, smiling warmly, "Hermione," one slender hand reached out to her and she took it, startled.
He pulled her close and peered into her eyes, usually cold grey eyes kind and comforting. "Hermione," she melted into his arms laying her head on his chest. One of his hands held her chin gently and moved her lips to his, touching them-
Hermione gasped awake, shooting upright and falling back down, the wound on her stomach aching. Draco sat over her, watching her carefully, "You might want to stay there…" She had been layed down on a blanket on the floor, shackled undone, blood not so much pumping out anymore because the bandage was wrapped over her midsection, over her shirt.
"This won't do much good like this," Hermione murmured, flicking the bandage. Draco blushed a bit and mumbled, "I didn't want to… you know…" She giggles quietly, despite herself, at his modesty.
But she couldn't do it by herself, with her weak arms and trembling hands, bruised rings around her wrists, "Dr- Malfoy. Can you p-please help me? I really can't do it on my own…"
Draco gulped and shakily agreed, unwrapping the blood tinged cloth from around her. Slowly, as Hermione watched steadily, he unrolled a new strip and unbuttoned the last three buttons of her shirt, parting the tails to reveal the damage.
The jagged cut was red everywhere, all over her flat stomach, right below her ribs. His eyes were surveying the wound, but lingering over her bare skin.
"Doesn't look infected," Hermione said, glancing at the gash, "maybe just putting the bandage over it…"
"No, you have to wash it first." He takes out thermos, pouring water gently, making pink run down her sides. Deftly, he wraps the cloth around her stomach, Hermione lifting up whenever it had to loop under. His slim fingers tie a small knot, lingering on her skin for a second, and she relaxed back, sighing.
And a thought comes to her mind, "Aren't you worried your father will return?"
Draco chuckles shortly, "As if… father couldn't care less. He must be thinking… something else." He rubs his eyes, which Hermione found strangely adorable.
"I won't ask again then," she said hushed and asked another question, "Why are you helping me?"
Draco froze and looked down, thinking. What he was thinking, Hermione was dying to know.
Yet, he took his time slowly opening and closing his mouth. "Well…" he finally decided for the safest answer, "I don't want to be guilty for letting you die."
Hermione closes her eyes, nodding, "Yeah…Okay." She bit her bottom lip and presses her hands over the stab to stop the dull ache. And she didn't notice when Draco slammed his hand on his forehead silently, cursing.
"Is he coming back tomorrow?" Draco shrugged, "Like I said…" Hermione knew what he had meant, she just thought maybe it wasn't true.
Hermione knew what Lucius supposed though. She had heard from Ron dozens of times how pureblood Death Eaters were capturing Muggleborns for information, like herself. And if they didn't cooperate, they were turned to slaves, or worse.
She was still on the blanket and Draco's steady breathing slowly lulled her to sleep.
