"Filthy little mudblood." Bellatrix Lestrange cursed as she pointed her wand at a helpless Hermione Granger, huddled in an already bruised and blood pile on the floor. "MUDBLOOD!" She swore again as her wand sparked, and Hermione's body writhed in pain. She shrieked, feeling as if she were being filled to the brim with acid, as if all her bones were breaking in the exact moment, as if she had been thrown into the mouth of a volcano. She felt all this pain, all this torture, at once. It rippled through her body in wave upon wave. Her arms flung out to her side, one beginning to bleed from the lettering being etched there by Bellatrix's hand. The letter 'M' revealed itself in flesh as a sadistic grin spread across the crazy eyed woman's face. It was followed by a 'U' and a 'D' and 'BLOOD'.

"And may you always be reminded of your filthy blood…" She spieled before letting her magic cease, dropping Hermione into a pile on the floor.

Bellatrix's nephew, Draco Lucius Malfoy, watched from a distance away as this happened. Unlike his aunt, his expression was horrified. Hermione, the 'brightest witch of her age', the best friend of his worst enemy, the mudblood he had tormented since he was eleven… That girl, that young woman, now lay in a heap on his living room floor. Not once had she called out for help. Not once had she called for Harry or Ron… She had taken it all, despite the fact that she was unable to fight back.

Draco shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He looked around the large living area. Bellatrix had disappeared, leaving Draco alone in the room with the collapsed Hermione. With hesitant steps, he walked over to her, crouching to his knees beside her. Her arm still bled profusely, the word 'MUDBLOOD' shining in brilliant scarlet. Draco cringed at the sight. Her breathing was shallow and choppy. In that moment Draco realized what Hermione had been through all these years.

All of what Bellatrix had done to the outside of Hermione's body… Draco had done to the inside, with his tricks, and his jabs, and his insults. He had bruised her inside as his aunt had outside. He had etched 'filthy mudblood' inside of her with his words, as Bellatrix had done in her arm. Tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill over, as he realized how horrible he had been. Hermione was strong… Strong enough to take Draco's insults… But, she wasn't strong enough to take Bella's magic… He staggered to his feet, holding Hermione's limp form in his arms. He twisted his leg, apparating with a loud, resounding 'POP'.

He appeared in the foyer of St. Mungo's hospital. He stumbled to the receptionist desk, where a thoroughly surprised young witch sat. Draco panted, hardly able to speak.

"Quick… Bleeding… bruises… bad… hardly breathing…" He gasped, trying to keep from falling over. Apparating himself and Hermione had taken a lot out of him, he wasn't used to it. Several healers appeared and took her away. Draco clung to the counter of the reception, willing himself to stay strong.

"You can go now, sir…" The receptionist said gently. "She'll be taken care of…" Draco nodded, taking a calming breath before he apparated out.

-oOo-

It's been three months since the downfall of Voldemort and the battle of Hogwarts. Draco hadn't been out of his bedroom at all. All he could think about was Hermione, and the night he saved her… Harry and Ron had rushed to St. Mungo's after hearing about what had happened to her, and probably visited daily… She still hadn't woken up.

Draco flipped through the pages of his copy of the Daily Prophet. He cringed, seeing the daily article about Hermione's condition. 'Still in a coma.' It said. He rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a head ache. He had wanted to go see her… Every day for the last three months he had. But, he couldn't… Not after what a git he had been to her. If she woke and saw him? She would surely slap him, or punch him… He was such a baby…

He groaned at himself. "I'm such an idiot…" He mumbled. He was too scared to even visit the girl whose life he had saved. He shoved himself off of his bed, pulling on a decent set of clothes. He twisted his leg, apparating to St. Mungo's reception.

"I'm here to see Hermion Granger?" He said to the girl behind the desk. She nodded, pointing him to the elevator.

"Fifth floor, dear." She told him. Draco thanked her, heading in the direction she had pointed him. He was alone as he stood in the elevator, eerily quiet. He shifted his weight from foot to foot until the elevator finally reached the proper floor. He stepped out, walking down the hall until he saw the door labeled 'Granger'.

He took a deep breath before opening the door and striding in… Coming face to face with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The two saw the platinum blonde walk in and scowled.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Haven't you caused Hermione enough harm?" Ron spat out, his voice venomous. Draco clenched his fists at his sides, he wouldn't fight. He wouldn't be provoked.

"No…" He answered simply. "I didn't do this to her…"

Ron scoffed. "Oh, really? I find that bloody hard to believe! You always had it out for us, for 'Mione!"

He would not be provoked… He would not fight… He clenched his fists tighter.

"Come on, Malfoy! Say something you bloody bastard!" Harry tried to hold Ron back, but he still had a glaring look on his face, directed at Draco.

He would not… Draco's fists couldn't clench any more. His fingernails were already digging into his palms. He grabbed Ron by the throat, thrusting him to the wall. "Listen here, you insufferable moron." He snarled. "I may have caused a lot of shit for you and your friends at Hogwarts… But I watched in horror as my aunt, my flesh and blood, did this to her. I'm the one that brought her here. If it weren't for me having a change of heart, realizing what I did wrong, she wouldn't be here." He let go of Ron's neck suddenly, horrified at his actions. He turned away as Ron rubbed his neck gingerly.

"Let's go, Ron…" Harry mumbled, shoving Ron towards the door.

When he was alone again, Draco stepped up to the side of Hermione's bed. She had the covers pulled up to her chest, but her arms rested on top, the one with the horrible writing covered in bandages. Her expression was bland, stuck between a frown and a smile. Her hair was a frazzled and frizzy mess, and she still had faint bruises on her face and neck. At least her breathing was normal…

Despite the horrible looking state she was in, Draco couldn't help but see the beauty in her, for the first time. Her hair shone, and not just from the grease of not being washed for months… Her skin, though eerily pale, glowed. Her dainty hands, her fragile features. Why had he not noticed this before? Why had he let his hate so cloud his eyes? He sat in a chair next to the bed, placing his hand close to hers. He closed his eyes, letting his head droop.

He sat in silence a moment before he felt something brush the top of his hand. He looked up to see that Hermione's hand had inched on top of his, and gently grasped it. With mouth slightly agape, he looked up. Her face contorted, as if in slight pain, as she fluttered her eyes open barely. Her hazel-honey eyes glistened beautifully.

"M-Malfoy?" She questioned. Draco nodded, tears springing into his eyes. He didn't care, he let them flow free, staining his cheeks.

"Yes… yes, it's me…" He took hold of her hand, as well, gently. She opened her mouth again, letting out a slight cough.

"Thank you… Draco…" She said, barely louder than a whisper, before she was quiet and still.

Draco's eyes widened. "No…" He felt his heart beat speed up. "No!" He felt her wrist, no pulse. He felt her other wrist, no pulse. He felt her neck, no pulse. He put his hand on her chest, no pulse… "NO!" He shrieked as it dawned on him. That she had just passed. He shrieked again. "No! No! NO!" His tears now a river down his face. Two healers rushed in, one to Hermione's bedside, the other to grasp Draco and force him out of the room.

-oOo-

It's been three months since Hermione woke from her coma, and it's been three months since she passed. Draco wasn't invited to her funeral… A grudge still held against him for bruising Ron's neck. Draco spent all of his time in his bedroom, the door locked from his side. He would sit for hours in the middle of his bed, the curtains pulled shut around him.

He had finally seen the beauty in someone besides him. He had finally fallen in love, stupidly, suddenly, hardly believably, but he had. He had fallen in love with his enemy in three months, seeing her only twice. She had called him by his first name, she had thanked him. She acknowledged that he had saved her. But, he couldn't save her again. He couldn't stop death from getting her a second time.

He blamed himself every day, as did Ron Weasley… he couldn't let go. He still blamed him for her coma… He immediately accused him of assassinating Hermione in her hospital bed. It made Draco weep, knowing how deep the man's hatred was for him. Knowing that he probably wanted him dead in place of Hermione. Draco wouldn't mint that, though… At least she would still be alive.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end…

This wasn't a happy ending…

So, this is a re-write of an old crappy story I found XD

Hope you guys enjoyed