Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter.

WARNINGS: Attempted rape the attacker is NOT Draco nor Hermione. The scene is brief but if you're easily triggered do not read.

A/N: The title was inspired by the song Revival by Echos.

….

Her eyes strain against the unforgiving winds, snowflakes whirling around her as if she was in her own personal blizzard. She has certainly got to be lost by now she thinks to herself as the trees that surround her all look the same covered in heavy layers of snow.

She feels silly for letting herself get too caught up in the moment that she hadn't paid enough attention to where she was going. Her mind too preoccupied with the thoughts of a silver-haired boy that got her into this mess.

All she wanted was a few moments to herself where he couldn't find her; for once during this war she wanted to be truly alone.

Shivers run down Hermione's body causing her to pull her jacket around her harshly as she isn't sure how long she had been out here in the woods; it had to have been at least an hour by now.

Her eyes fight the exhaustion as she tries to find her way back from the white-covered woods. She tries blowing warm air at her frostbitten fingers, but it's too much for her head to handle. She winces as the small headache reminds her of how much crying and yelling she's endured tonight.

The fight had gotten way out of hand, more so than usual, and this time she wasn't sure if was something they were going to come back from. This time she has had enough.

The revelation leaves a deep hole in the pit of her stomach as well as her heart.

Hermione lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm her nerves as she keeps on walking; fighting the icy pain in her legs as they beg her to stop. The only thing she had going for her that kept the cold at bay was her anger and that has long faded; leaving her to feel the emptiness inside as the cold seeps into her bones.

The walking helped fight against the frosty air, but she missed the anger from earlier for it spread throughout her entire being like a good shot of fire whiskey.

Hermione would give anything for some fire whiskey right now. The perfect thing to warm herself up and drown out the thoughts that wanted to swallow her whole, but she's not that lucky for soon enough she is too tired to fight the biting winds and decides to sit down if only for a moment.

Hermione finds a larger tree that seems to provide some blockage of the rough winds before slumping down against it; letting her head fall back onto the scratchy bark. She rubs her hands together for warmth; trying to block tonight's events from her head, but it is no use as her mind, cruelly, reminds her of how she ended up in such unfortunate circumstances.

Tears well up in her eyes again, and instead of fighting them she lets them flow. Wrapping her arms around herself as to block the world from around her. She lets herself feel the hurt he has caused her instead of just the anger. Her heart aching as she squeezes her eyes shut.

She knew she shouldn't have asked him, but maybe this was for the best. Maybe this was the world's cruel way of showing her what she really meant to him all along.

….

At the time Hermione was not entirely sure how their fight had gotten so out of control. Sure her and Draco have had their fair share of arguments, mostly about the war and not being careful enough, but not like this.

Usually the bickering ends with one of them leaving the room until the other one has time to cool off, or with one's lips crashing into the others making them forget what they had even been fighting about in the first place.

However, tonights quarrel had felt different. The air around them tight and frigid.

Hermione's blood felt like it was boiling despite the frost creeping alongside the window and into the room. Her fingers curl tight into fists as Draco finds the perfect comment to tick her right off.

It's as if he knows all the wrong things to say to set her off; it's almost impressive she had thought. He knows exactly what not to say, but said it anyways.

Hermione ignored him for a moment, trying to regain her composure as she took a deep breath through her teeth. She decided to try another approach by reasoning with him, but he wasn't having any of it.

It was as if nothing she said could make Draco calm down, his explosive behavior making her wonder what was really going on in that thick head of his.

She notices how he hadn't even looked her in the eye, like he was too busy trying to avoid her gaze; always looking past her or out the window.

She tried to question him as to what was really bothering him. But as always, he had dodged the question, ready with another sharp answer.

That's when it had hit her. She had worried that it would come to this; so she did not want to ask, but she wanted answers.

If only she hadn't...

"Are you angry with me because of what I told you?" she finally asked him; referring to a night she wished she could forget.

She wasn't even sure as to what she was asking him, for she herself wasn't sure he had actually heard her that night.

"There are a lot of things you say that piss me off, Granger. You're going to have to be more specific than that!" he shouts, his hair in every direction from him pulling his hands roughly through it throughout the fight.

But he had stopped pacing around the room at her question; his body stiff.

She had tried her best to avoid this uncomfortable situation, and by his actions it lead her to believe he was trying to avoid it too.

"Don't be daft, you know exactly what I'm talking about." She goaded, striving to finally face her problems head on.

"I'm not the one being daft here. If I knew what the bloody hell you were going on about I wouldn't be asking."

Her hands were on her hips, while her jaw was clenched. She knew by now that he knew exactly what she is referring too, but seemed just as uncomfortable with it as she was.

She decided that aggravation was a better emotion to feel than the tightness around her heart.

"You're being an unbelievable twat right now!"

"The same could be said about you-"

"I'm not the one dodging the real issues he-"

"Oh sod off, I am not-"

"YES! You are, Malfoy! Just answer the damn question!" she finally exploded, her voice so loud that it had made her take a step back in surprise at her own rage.

However, Draco seemed unfazed, almost too calm at her outburst. It was as though he was trying to fake his nonchalant attitude towards the conversation.

There was silence in the room, for only a few seconds, but it felt like eternity to her before he finally turned to face her. His eyes were dark, his mouth in a grimace that made her feel uneasy.

"Fine," he started off slowly, stalking towards her; his stance almost threatening. "Do you want to know what I really think?" he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Hermiones heart had quickened as she tried to keep her head held high. While she had felt nervous, she would be damned if she allowed him to see that with the way he was talking to her.

She wasn't sure what to say to him at the time, afraid of what he is going to tell her; so she waited for him to continue.

"You want to know why I've really been avoiding you?"

He had moved closer to her at this point, so close that she could feel his breath on her face; his eyes cutting right through her before he's sneering.

"It's because you're getting too damn attached and I will never feel that way about a filthy mudblood like you."

….

A sob escapes her mouth, feeling harsh against the back of her throat as her eyes fly open at the memory.

It had been years since anyone she knew called her that. Years since he had called her that. After all these years, after everything they've been through in this war, after everything she had given him and he had given her. Was this what he really thought of her?

She had seen him change into a different man over the years. She saw first hand how much this war had affected him as it had affected her. She saw how much blood was on his hands and still decided to still hold them. She saw who he could really be after this war.

And all he saw was her blood. Her filthy blood.

She's supposed to feel vile and angry at what he said to her, but the anger has already passed leaving her to feel the loneliness that surrounds her in the middle of the woods.

She lets out a shaky breath and closes her eyes against the tears that keep falling. She hates to admit it to herself, but all she wants is his comforting arms right now to help shut out the world around her.

It just now dawns on her as how much power he had over her; how much power he still has over her.

She hates it. She hates how much he affected her.

She hates how his hands and mouth know exactly what to do to make her cry out in pleasure. She hates how lying in his arms at night are the only way to soothe her after a nightmare. She hates that the only one who knows just how much this war has changed her for the worse is him. She hates that his eyes are the only ones who seem to see right into her mind and through her lies. She hates that he's the only man she's ever bared her heart to and he how hadn't been able to do the same.

What she hates most of all is that fact that she doesn't hate him at all. And that scares her.

Both her head and heart throb; her mind swirls as she lets her head fill with thoughts of what had lead to them down this path of destruction.

She thinks back to that night; the moment that brought them here.

….

"Avada Kedavra!" someone shouted; the green light had barely caught her eye as it whizzed past just inches from her head.

She hadn't ducked in reflex like she normally did when she heard the spell; her mind didn't even register the cloaked body as it feel near her feet.

It wouldn't be until later that she thanks Ron profusely for saving her life.

But as for that moment her breath had caught in her throat and her heart was pounding hastily inside her chest as her eyes were fixated on the body that she has come to know intimately.

That's too much blood, she remembers thinking.

Hermione's legs moved so fast that they had almost tripped over themselves as she had ran her way over to him across the dark dungeons of some nameless death eaters hideout.

She had watched the blood seeping from his head, making his hair turn from silvery white to a dark shade of red as it spilled out around him.

Everything around her had seemed to be happening in slow motion as she could not make out any of the words that Ron was trying to tell her as they fumbled to unlock the metal bars that blocked them from him.

His blood had felt warm in her hands as she tried to cradle his head in her lap; her eyes wide in shock as it just kept coming out. The knot in her stomach had twisted into something sharp as her mind went blank in panic.

The feeling that struck her, as she watched him bleed helplessly, was more intense than anything she had ever felt before; and that's when she knew he meant more to her than she had told herself at nights when she was wrapped in his arms.

Hermione doesn't remember if it was her or Ron who had pulled out her portkey. All she remembers is the sick feeling in her as it whisked her and Draco away from the ongoing battle.

….

The images of his almost lifeless body haunted her. She had been certain at the time that he was going to die as for no one could survive with that much blood loss.

She let's out a breath she hadn't realize she was holding as the pang in her heart grows. Just thinking back to it now made Hermione's stomach twist.

While the battle was mainly a blur to her, the night she visited him in the hospital was crystal clear.

….

Hermione paced back and forth outside the room were they held Draco.

While she worried for Draco's life, she also felt the guilt eat at her as she had left her friends on the battlemats; her mind too preoccupied at the time for her to think clearly. She has no idea who else could be hurt or worse. Dead.

She hardly felt her nail bitten fingers pierce her flesh as they dug deep into her crossed arms.

Hermione was not sure how much time had passed as she kept pacing and she wouldn't have stopped if it weren't for the person at the end of the hall that caught her attention as he popped into view.

The dark hair and glasses of her best friend catching her eye; making her bolt into action.

Harry's arms were around her in seconds as they had both rushed to meet each other. She hadn't noticed that she was crying until she saw the damped section of his shirt that she had left in its wake as she pulled back.

He looked worse than he was he had told her, trying to soothe the frightened, worried look she gave him at his state.

She tried apologizing but he told her she had nothing to apologize for as he said he would have done the same for Ginny.

"I'm fine; really, Hermione, it's okay," he had reassured her when she didn't reply.

It wasn't the dismissal of her concerns that made her go quiet. It was the fact that Harry had just compared her relationship with Draco to his and Ginny's; making her for the second time that night relish in her feelings for Draco.

She didn't have much time to think more of it before the healer who was in Draco's room stepped out into the hall; making Hermione and Harry turn towards the sound of the door closing.

"How is he?" she had rushed the words out.

The healer looked hesitant before telling her the truth, "It's not looking great, but we're hopeful. He took to the potions well enough, but he suffered a lot of internal bleeding. We're not sure if he'll recover; but we'll know in time."

Harry's hand tightened around hers at her sharp intake of breath.

The healer looked like she was going to deny them access, as she already earlier with Hermione telling her that Draco needs rest, but her eyes landed on no other than Harry Potter himself before she had moved away from the door. It's only one of the times that Hermione is thankful for her best friends fame.

The healer tells them to be patient and careful for that Draco is still in a fragile state before she is gone to check on her other patients.

Harry's hand gave hers a little squeeze before he let it go, mumbling something about how he was going to check back in with Ron before he was gone leaving her to go into the room alone.

The door closed with a soft click, her hand still on the handle.

She took a deep breath to steady herself before she turned around in the darkly light room.

Hermiones heart skipped a beat when she looked at Draco lying, maybe even dying in the hospital bed.

His eyes were closed as his chest rose and fell from a deep sleep. He had a bandage wrapped tightly around his head with only little pieces of his hair that stuck out at the ends.

He was more pale than his usual self, if that was even possible; he looked like a ghost. Only the slight pink in his cheeks that gave sign that he was still alive. His one eye was swollen as it was black and blue, bruised like the underside of his jaw. He had a busted lip and his knuckles were scrapped to hell and back.

She wondered for a fraction of a moment what he would had looked like if he was stuck in that dungeon any longer. The thought sent a shiver up her spine.

The candlelight on the side of the wall flickered as the flame danced around from her moving closer to him.

She grabbed the chair nearest to her before she had sat down at his side, her hand reaching out for his. His hand was warm in hers despite the chilly room and loss of blood.

Hermione's eyes welled up as she held on probably too tightly to his hand, looking over his bruised face.

All that she could think about was what other hidden wounds he had under those blankets, and how if he didn't go on the dangerous mission she had warned him about than maybe his team wouldn't have been captured and they wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

Maybe they would be back at their latest safehouse healing each others smaller wounds with healing charms, Hermione poking fun at his bad talent for it as he grumbles how if she would be careful he wouldn't need to use them in the first place. Maybe he would be with her and okay, not fighting for his life in an unfamiliar bed.

Hot tears came down her face as her frown deepens.

Her heartbeat picked up when she felt him stir next to her, her eyes darted over him to see if anything is wrong.

"It's alright, you're alright; I'm here, Draco" she had whispered, pulling his hand closer to her heart as she leaned forward towards the bed.

She wasn't sure if he actually relaxed at her words or if whatever made him stir had dissipated. She assumed the latter as she wasn't sure if he could even hear her for his eyes were still closed and his breathing was steady.

She had let her other free hand come up to lightly brush away the pieces of his hair that fell into his face. Her hand lingered as she pondered that evening's events.

They have had their share of close calls, but not like this. None had ever stricken her like this before. It made her realize that whatever her and Draco were, were more than either of them lead on. She wasn't prepared to feel what she felt for him, but she had felt it anyways.

She supposes she knew it all along, but she never admitted that to herself, never accepted it; not until now.

"Please, be okay, Draco. I can't…" she starts, trying to get through the knot that formed in the back of her throat, "I just need you to be okay."

She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand as she continued on, "I need you to by okay because otherwise who else is going to point out my unhealthy obsession with tea- or who else is going to pick on my bad habit of nail biting when I get nervous?"

She takes a deep breath.

"I need you to be okay for no one else besides you has the balls to make bad jokes about Harry Potter to his face," she smiles sadly in thought at the fact that while once those jokes irritated her, they make the bottom of her stomach twist at the thought he might not make them again.

"I need you because you're the only one who is truly honest with me on how bad my hair can be in the morning," she laughs through her tears.

Her heart clenches as the next words fall from her lips, "I need you to be okay because you've already sacrificed too much already for this bloody war." And he really had as he turned against his friends and family for their side.

She wanted to continue to tell him all the things she need him for, as for there were plenty of thoughts flooding her head, but Hermione pauses; not sure if she can go on.

She is afraid, however, afraid that she'll never get another chance to tell him why she really needs him, so she tells him through her tear soaked face.

"I need you to be okay because I love you."

….

She feels stupid now at the thought. Embarrassed. Vulnerable. Most of all; alone.

It always pained her as she tried to figure out how he feels about her. Constantly going over conversations and the nights they've shared over and over again in her head.

She had always felt like she was walking on a tightrope around him. She didn't want to distance herself from him, but was also afraid of revealing too much of herself to him at the same time. But she had done it anyway. She had jumped right off of the thin line and he wasn't there to catch her in the end.

She had thought that maybe he had felt the same way. He may never have said the words out loud, but maybe he had been walking the same tightrope she had; not knowing what went too far, and what didn't go far enough. Tonight proved her wrong.

She should have seen it coming, now that she looks back on it. Ever since the night she had confessed her darkest secret, he started acting differently with her.

He was short with her whenever she came to visit him in the hospital after her confession, never able to quite look her in the eye. She pretended not to notice that he frowned more than usual. Surprised by the fact that he didn't make any snide comments when she brought up Harry or Ron. And dismissed the feeling in her heart when he had removed his hand from hers one night.

She had pitted it against all the potions they gave him; refusing to believe it was anything else that was making him act that way. But deep down she knew better.

She lets her head fall back against the tree, her head still reeling. The snow is falling heavier now, landing softly on her. Exhaustion hitting her heavily as her emotions settle into a bleak numbness. She almost doesn't mind the numbness as her earlier problems begin to fade away in the cold night.

Hermione closes her eyes, deciding to let herself give into the exhaustion if only for a moment. Letting tonight's events seep out of her and into the surrounding winds as she rests against the tree.

Her eyes snap open at the sound of a twig breaking.

Her breathing picks up as she frantically scans the woods, but she tries to stay calm as it might just be an animal. While she doesn't see anyone she still reaches towards her back pocket for her wand just in case.

Panic shoots up her spine as she realizes she must have left her wand back at the safe-house as for it is not in it's usual spot.

She inhales sharply, the crisp air hitting the back of her throat, making her want to cry out at the pain. Her hand flying up and over her mouth as she struggles to keep from coughing. How long had she been out here?

She looks down to see her hands are starting to turn blue and she can barely feel any of her body.

"I believe the house is this way," a voice she doesn't recognize says.

Her breath catches in her throat as her body freezes, her eyes wide in alarm. She has no idea who said that, but whomever they are, they weren't too far from her location.

She silently prays that it's just one of the newer recruits that she hasn't met yet that is coming back from a mission, but she isn't reassured by the idea.

Hermione slowly pushes herself up, trying to be as quiet as possible. She ignores the fact that her legs were almost completely numb as she leans back up against the tree, hoping they'll pass by in another direction. Her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she almost certain they'll hear it.

She internally curses at herself at how stupid she was for letting herself forget about the war and focus on just herself for once.

"I'll go the other way to cover more ground."

Hermiones heart nearly stops at the other voice. Although her hands are practically blue from the cold she can feel her palms sweat. She's not sure what she should do.

The safe-house was off in a direction that only God knows from where she was now. She's also not sure how fast she can run in her state if need be. Her legs void of feeling and her breathing coming out too quickly as it made her lungs burn.

Then it hits her. They're heading towards the safe-house. Towards Draco, towards her friends.

It's not until she sees a dark cloak and mask emerge from the other end of the woods that she truly feels fear hit her as the realization settles into her very core.

Her entire body shakes as she takes off in the opposite direction of the figure before she can contemplate what to do; her legs moving as fast she she can to warn the others. She can hear the mysterious man shout at his friend when he spots her running.

Her legs burn as they work overtime, trying to fight not only the heavy snow but the numbness that creeps up them. It makes her stumble more easily as she trenches onwards, hearing the man in the dark cloak not too far behind.

Her mind races as she tries to remember where the safe-house was, not being able to follow the tracks she made on her way in as the snow had fallen, covering them up long ago.

A spell is being yelled out; but she can't hear it well enough to know what it is.

"Shit," she hisses as a bright ball of purple light zips pass her head, making her trip over her own feet.

She tumbles straight into the side of a large tree, smacking upside it hard enough to force the air out of her chest. It's only a second later that she pushes herself quickly off the tree she hit into, ignoring the pain coming from her scrapped up palms as she continues running.

She can hear the voice behind her yell something again before the next ball of light makes the tree crack and splinter as the spell hits the spot she had just recently been.

She almost thanks God that the spell had missed her, but is too busy trying to watch her steps to think of anything else besides sidestepping fallen trees and thick rocks that scatter the ground.

Hermione's arms are pumping fast at her sides, her breathing coming in fast as her heart pangs. Her lungs are screaming at her as she moves faster than she thought capable in her state. It's the only thing she can really feel at this point; her body too cold to feel much of anything else except a small tingle as it is being overworked.

She barely dodges another spell when she notices someone else in front of her, and she's skidding to a stop. Her arms flying out to balance herself as she sees the other cloaked figure blocking her path. His eyes gleaming behind the mask that covers the rest of his face.

She doesn't have time to think of how to get out of the situation before this time the stream of light hits her in the back.

She screams out as her legs buckle under her, making her fall to her knees. Her hands coming out in front of her as they smack against the snowy dirt hard as she tries to keep herself from hitting her face on the ground.

She can feel the blood seep through the back of her shirt, stinging both hot from the fresh cut on her backside and from the cold winter air that touches it. It would almost feel good to have the warm liquid spread across her back if it weren't from the fact that it stung so badly.

Laughter fills the air as hot tears pool around her eyes. It's not long before both of them are next to her, circling her as though she's the frightened prey and their the hungry predators.

They watch her as she struggles helplessly on the ground. She was too emotionally drained from earlier, and can barely feel herself as the cold threatens to completely take her.

"Get her up," the one commands, and the other follows.

A rough hand is grabbing her by the back of her hair, hoisting her upright. Pain soars up to her head at the fast action. She grits her teeth as she feels herself build with fear.

She tries to struggle out of the ones grasp, but it's useless as he grabs both her wrist and shoves them against her lower back. She lets out a low hiss in pain.

Her body tingles; from the fright or the overuse of her body she doesn't know.

She tries to steady her panic breathes; not wanting to show her fear.

Hermione watches as the other man strides up to her, tisking her like she was a small child who needed to be punished. She tries to keep the panic out of her eyes, but finds it hard when he pushes his wand under her chin; watching her try to jerk her head away.

"Not very bright for the brightest witch our age," he taunts. "Not even having your wand on you."

Her stomach tightens into a knot. She doesn't recognize the voice, but she knows that he knows her which makes her that much more uncomfortable, and angry.

Redness creeps up her neck, some heat coming back into her cold frame as her lips quiver as she relishes in the truth behind his comment. And she silently curses herself again for leaving her wand behind.

She glares daggers at him, trying to fight against the man at her back who only tightens his grip; it makes her wince a little. But she refuses to let them see the fear she feels inside of her. Her heart may be thundering away and her mind may be screaming at her, but she is too prideful to let them know.

"Nothing to say?" the man at her throat sighs, the air coming out white around his mouth.

She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Pity," he adds before another curse slips from his tongue and purple light streams out at the end of his wand.

Her eyes flash with fear for a brief second before another scream slips past her lips; scrapping at the back of her throat as she lets it out. The flame strikes her bottom legs; slicing both of them open. Then all of the sudden she's falling down onto the ground again as the man who was holding her drops her in fear of the curse hitting him.

She watches the snow under her with her tear soaked face. It melts under her legs; turning a deep shade of red.

The man who let her go curses at the other one for almost hitting him. "Watch where you point that thing!"

Her body is sore, and is not a fan of her trying to move her legs. The cold making her bones feel like they'll break under too much pressure and the cuts on her back and legs sting to hell and back as they ooze blood.

"You're fine, don't be such a wuss about it," the other waves his hand, his eyes going back to the witch who was trying to crawl away while they were distracted.

"Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you're going, mudblood?" he sneers.

Her blood runs cold and she grits her teeth at the name, fuming. Before she gets the chance to reply the purple flame comes lashing out again, striking the back of her left arm making her yell out as her right hand comes up to hold onto the newly open wound.

The sensation burns her arm as it stings worse than her legs did, as for they were mostly numb from the cold. She tries her best to not notice the feeling as she still continues to crawl, now with one hand, towards the tree roots.

They just watch her with taunting eyes behind their masks as she slides sideways up the nearest tree for support, smearing her blood from her arm on it as she rises. She fights against the exhaustion in her bones as her legs wobble against the presser of her standing.

She will not back down, no matter how awful she feels.

Her voice is barely recognizable as she rasps out, "You're lucky I don't have my wand, or else-"

He cuts her off, stalking towards her. "Or else what? You're still outnumbered and clearly not as smart as everyone else says you are."

Her muscles shout in pain as her body at the tree goes taunt at his words. Her eyes narrowing as the man comes face to face with her.

"Give me a wand and see for yourself," she grinds out, small satisfaction in her chest at the snicker she receives from the two of them.

The leader of the two men practically growls at her attitude before striking her with the back of his hand. It makes her head whip back towards the tree, her head hitting against the rough bark. Her cheek turns bright red as she can taste the copper in her mouth.

"I have a better idea," the leader spits out, growing impatient with her as her grabs her by the back of her head. His face so close to hers that she can feel his foul breath coming out of his mask as it wages across her neck.

Her body freezes as she feels his meaty hand make it's way up her side roughly.

Panic hits her again as she realizes what he wants. She wasn't thinking about what she was doing before she spits the blood in her mouth at him, some of it spraying into the eye-hole of his mask.

"You, fucking bitch!" he curses, throwing her onto the ground. He points his wand at her before the unforgivable curse slips past his lips.

"Crucio!"

Hermione tries her best to roll away from the curse, but her reaction was too slow as it hits her in the shoulder.

Pain flares up her entire body, all her muscles contracting and screaming inside of her. She lets out a blood curdling roar as she falls back down to the ground. She slams her head against the root of the tree, causing it to pound as her body begins thrashing around on the snow. Her mind and soul feel as though it's been set on fire and she can think of nothing else. The pain eats away at her, completely consuming her. Unaware of the comments that are being sneered her.

She has never felt anything as excruciating as this in her entire life. It makes all her other scars from battles throughout the war pale in comparison. Her body jolting from the strain it puts on her muscles. It is all consuming as it makes her throat go raw from the amount of wailing.

She doesn't notice the blood that seeps out around her as she rolls around on the ground, opening the wound on her back even more as she tosses about.

Her chest burns as she inhales short breaths between the spasms. Her skin prickles as if someone had stabbed her with a thousand needles.

This is how I am going to die, she thinks. But she almost welcomes the idea as anything would be better than the pain she was feeling at this exact moment.

She is not sure how long they kept the curse on her. It could have been minutes or hours. All she could focus on was the pain and how she longed for it to be gone.

It's not until one of them is sitting on top of her that she realizes the crucio curse was gone, but was replaced by heavy weight of the man in black on top of her; his cloak scattered besides him along with his mask.

Fear roars up throughout her as his now unmasked face comes closer to her. She doesn't recognize the man, even though she thought she would has as he had known her. His eyes are dark and cruel as his face twists into a sinister look.

Her body aches in a way she cannot describe and by this point she can barely fight back, but she still tires to with every fiber in her being.

Her eyes wide, her mouth agape as she tries to use her hands to push him off. Her mind frantic as she feels his hand grab her wrists, pinning them above her head as the other one is on her neck, slowly dragging downward.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fuck a mudblood," he sneers, grabbing her roughly by the chin. His breath hot and fowl as he bends his head towards her to whisper frightening things in her ears.

She notices the other one standing by, watching intently as he enjoys her suffering. She couldn't stomach the thought of what the man on top of her had in mind.

She squeezes her eyes shut, forcing her mind to think of something else. Anything else.

Her mind likes to play tricks on her as Draco is who comes to mind to remind her how she ended up here.

But her attention is brought back to the man above her when she hears the top buttons of her shirt rip open, the frigid air making her newly exposed flesh spring with goosebumps. New tears falling out as she tries to get out from under him.

Only then does she notice that squirming under him is not a good idea as she can feel his enjoyment.

His reaction jolts something in her, causing he to bring her knee up to his backside. He grunts as he tumbles forward a bit, loosening his grip for a second, giving her enough time to free her hand.

Her nails meet his exposed neck. She can feel the warmth of his blood trickle down her hand as she dug into him deep. She hears him fume as he grabs her head, roughly throwing it up before slamming it onto the ground.

The world is dark for a few seconds before she is hit with the crucio curse again.

She notices nothing else but the pain. It's like it's all new again, as if she hadn't been hit with the spell before as it makes her body spasm in an uncontrollable way. She almost completely blacks out; wanting the blackness to wash over her. She wants to completely let go and let the pain fade away, but is afraid of what will happen if she does.

The fear that is inside her head is pale in comparison to the excruciating burn that covers her. She cries out trying to hold onto the world as she fights against the darkness that wants to take her.

However hard she tries she's too weak to try and fight it for much longer.

That's when she notices the silver hair that comes into view.

Everything happens so quickly, she's not even quite sure she sees what happens as black spots invade her vision as she tries to force her eyes to stay open.

Her lips screaming out so loud that she she can't understand the words that come from his lips, and can scarcely see the green light that shoots out of his wand as she thrashes around on the ground; blindsided by the fire that floods throughout her veins.

Then the fire, suddenly, subsides and she can hardly feel the air entering her lungs as a sharp gasps comes from her mouth when the curse ends again.

Her eyes blinking against the blackness that threatens to overtake her.

Her head and body ache like nothing shes ever felt before, howling from within her core. Whether it's from the previous curse, the slices in her skin, or from the cold winter winds; she'll never know.

"Hermione- Fuck, stay with me, Hermione-please!" a familiar voice barks, before kneeling down next to her.

His arms are around her and picking her up before her mind can even register it happening. She couldn't feel anything as her body goes limp in his arms.

Everything around her blurs, even the words that tumble from Draco lips make no sense. Then all of the sudden it all fades to black.

….

The first time Hermione gains consciousness her head pounds and blood seems to rush in her ears making the words that someone is shouting around her seem muffled; she can't make out what the people near her are trying to say as they place her down onto the rough mattress. She doesn't seem to care about all the yelling around her as she sinks back into a deep sleep.

….

Her eyes flutter open slightly when the light crosses her face from a door being opened at the end of the room.

She notices the familiar red hair on top of the boys head, but it's the silver haired boy at her bed that jumps up that draws her attention if only for a moment.

Her eyes close again and she's drifting away to the darkness before she can hear the heated words exchanged between the two men.

….

Their lips are soft as they whispered against her forehead.

"Come back to me."

….

The first time she gains true consciousness is when she can hear shouting outside her door. Relief floods throughout her veins as she instantly recognizes the voices; even if they're fighting.

"If anything happens to her, I swear I'll kill you myself!" Ron was shouting.

Hermione could hear shuffling outside like someone was trying to restrain him when she heard Harry pipe in. "Ron, now's not the time."

"It bloody well is! How do we know he wasn't the one who did this to her-"

There's a loud bang that shakes the walls as Draco makes a comment too low for her to hear properly.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Harry shouts.

Then there's silence for a few moments before she can hear Harry again. "You two have got to stop this. Hermione wouldn't want either of you to be wasting your time fighting one another when there's still a war going on outside. And we already know what happened, Ron. So please, I'm begging you to let it go."

Hermione can only imagine the looks that Ron and Harry are exchanging right now.

"You better be right about this, Harry." Ron grits out bitterly before she can hear his footsteps echo as he stomps away.

There is silence again, and Hermione wishes she was able to call out, but she's too tired to try. She barely has enough energy to hang onto the last words exchanged between the two men before she gives into the exhaustion.

"I don't know what you said to her, and I don't care right now. I just hope she's going to be okay, but dammit Rons right; if anything happens to her-"

Draco's reply is low, making it almost impossible for Hermione to hear. "You can save the threats for someone else, Potter. There isn't anything you can say that I haven't already thought to myself."

….

With a sharp intake of breath, Hermione's blinking back tears as the bright lights in the unfamiliar room make her eyes sting when she wakes up fully this time.

She has no idea how long she had been asleep, but she can tell it has been a couple of days at the very least. She's thankful that she can no longer feel the cuts on her skin, as someone had used healing charms on them. The faint scaring still on her skin as the cuts were deep; not quite healing properly.

Her body had a dull ache as it reminds her of the other nights feels a large amount of pressure come off of her chest. She takes a long, deep breath letting it wash over her.

She hadn't noticed the hand holding hers until she tries to sit up in the stiff bed; her muscles sore as she pushes herself up against the headboard.

She looks over to the person sitting in a chair next to her; holding tightly onto her hand so hard it hurts and is met with grey eyes.

Angry grey eyes.

The feeling of relief and anger collide into her all at once. She's not sure if she wants to kiss him, or if she wants to pull her hand away and use it to slap him.

And judging by the look on his face, he feels the same way.

"What are you-"

"Don't you ever-"

Both of them stop, but it is Draco who starts again as for Hermione's throat is still hoarse from the event in the woods. She pulls her hand away from his to grab the water that was left on the bedside table, her eyes questioning as she drinks it eagerly.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," he says lowly, his eyes never wavering from hers.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, while her heart flutters and the knot in her stomach is back.

The feeling only lasts a few seconds before she is reminded of the fact of what brought her to the situation in the first place and she's angry, and embarrassed again. She feels as though she wants to shrink away from his gaze and melt away into the bed.

She tears her eyes from his, as she fiddles with the now empty cup in her hand. Her throat choking up again as she looks towards the fireplace on the other side of the room.

"I'm sorry if my near death experience interrupted your evening plans," she replies angrily, trying her best to sound snarky, but it comes off more tired as she is reeling from the other night.

She's not sure how she feels right now. Her body still hurts all over; and her mind is numb as she tries to wrap her head around the current situation she has found herself in.

"Don't," he warns, his jaw clenching.

"Don't what?" She challenges, still refusing to look at him. She slams the empty cup on the side table; her eyes fixated on the flames dancing upwards towards the chimney.

She doesn't want to talk about the other day, especially not with him. He's already made her feel vulnerable enough and she isn't sure she can think about what happened without having a mental breakdown.

"Don't," he says again, his fingers curled into a fist on the edge of her bed. "Don't act like you're death is just a fucking joke to me."

"Well it certainly feels like it."

His voice is dangerously low. "Stop. You know for a damn fact that's not true."

She isn't sure is she wants to laugh or cry.

"You made it perfectly clear the other night that you couldn't possibly care for a filthy mudblood," she repeats his words from the other night. Her stomach twisting at the thought as her eyes begin to burn.

Her face flushes and her heart pounds fast; this time she has nowhere to hide from him. She tries her best to shield herself from him by wrapping her arms around herself, her hands gripping on too tightly.

She isn't sure what she was expecting, but his response is not it.

"You shouldn't have let your feelings get you in trouble like that," he snaps, the chair sharp against the hardwood floor as he pushes away from her bedside. "You should never leave without your bloody wand!"

Her head snaps towards him, her mouth agape at his words, nose flaring as she glares at him. Her entire body vibrating with rage.

"You don't think I don't know that?!" She screams at him; finally letting it out. " You don't think I've learned my lesson? You don't think I wasn't punishing myself the entire time over being so stupid! I almost died, Malfoy!" she belts out, paying no regard to the pain in her throat or the tears that are coming full force down her face.

Her chest heaving as she struggles to get the words out through her tears.

"I was being foolish! And I was all alone! I ran off by myself because just for once I need to be alone. I knew it was dangerous but at the time I didn't care! I didn't know that they were there- And all I could think about is how- How I wanted them to end it all before they could- before they could-."

Hermione sobs, the words catch in her throat, unable to go on.

Arms are around her before she can even comprehend what is happening, and she clutches onto him. Burying her face into his neck, gripping onto his back tightly as the sobs rake through her body.

Her whole body is shaking as he whispers words she can't hear into her hair as he to tries to get her to calm down. His hands tucked into her back as he squeezes her so hard against him she's afraid he's going to snap her in half.

"Hermione-" he wretches; not sure what to say.

She doesn't know what she feels at this point; too many emotions bursting out all at once. So she just closes her eyes and lets him hold her.

It feels good to be back in his arms; she's certain she will regret this later, but right now she focuses on the hand on her back and the one in her hair as they shield her from the rest of the world.

"Hermione, please; look at me."

They sit there in silence for a moment, the only noise is her ragged breathing as she wills herself to calm down, but she pulls back, wiping her wet face with her sleeve before she looks at Draco fully this time.

His shoulders are slumped, pieces of his silver hair falling into his eyes as he watches her. She wonders how much sleep he's gotten when she notices the bags under his eyes.

It's not until he grabs her hand to pull it into his lap that she realizes she hadn't said anything, but she isn't sure what to say, so she waits for him to continue.

She sees the regret in his eyes as they shift downwards to their hands clasped together in his lap; her heart pinching as he squeezes them.

"I didn't mean what I said to you the other night."

Her heart skips a beat, but he says the words so quietly she's not sure if he exactly said them or if she was imagining it.

"I only said those things to you because… I needed to distance myself from you, because you deserve someone better."

Hermione's head spins as she tries to piece together what the bloody hell that meant. She doesn't understand why he would push her away over something so ridiculous.

She opens her eyes to look at him. "You actually believe that I could care-"

"You almost died, Hermione!" he interrupts, his eyes snapping up towards hers. His tone strikes her with such intensity it makes her lean back.

Draco looks almost frantic as he confesses his thoughts to her. His hands squeezing hers tightly; like he was trying to get her to pay more attention to what he was saying.

"You could have died because of me; because I was too much of a git to tell you the truth about how I feel about you-" Hermione's eyes widened as Draco sucks in a breath, uncertain of what he wants to reveal. "After you told me how you felt… It freaked me out, I didn't know what to do with that. If that doesn't tell you why you can do better than I don't know what to say."

Her chest fills with hope as her mind only focuses on one thing. "How you feel about me?"

His eyebrows scrunch together, his jaw clenching as he tries to retaliate. "That's besides the point, I'm trying to get you to understand-"

"Besides the point? That's the reason we're in this mess!" she practically yells; cutting him off.

"Exactly!" he shouts, jumping up from the bed to look down at her. "You almost died because I was too much of a coward to admit that I'm in love with you!"

She's not sure if it was her sharp intake of breath or his as the room falls silent. Hermione's breath catches in her throat, while Draco's eyes are wide. Neither one of them prepared for him to say the words out loud like that.

Her head is pounding again as her head spins from his confession; her heart beating too fast against her ribcage as her chest swells up.

Draco Malfoy was in love with her.

He was in love with her and she spent most of that night thinking he was disgusted by her. This entire time he was pushing her away because he thinks she deserves better.

The feeling to laugh and cry at the same time is strong as she finally understands him. Well, she understands him to a certain degree. She was still upset with the git for not being honest with her in the first place.

"It's not your choice to decide who I deserve and who I don't, Draco. You can't just push me away because of that." she says softly, watching him pace the room.

"It's not about who you deserve…" he trails off, his hand pulling at his silver hair.

Her eyebrows raise up at that. She knows he has always struggled with trying to right his wrongs within this war; but for him to think he hasn't proven himself worthy of her was ridiculous.

"You think you don't deserve me?" she astonishes, huffing out a small laugh at the absurdity.

He stops moving; his eyes returning to hers as he looks confused as to why she was laughing at a time like this.

"I fail to see how you find this amusing," he admits, his head shaking at her.

Hermione gives him a look. "It is a little funny; cruelly ironic really."

"You're bloody ridiculous," he sighs, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"I'm ridiculous? You're the one who caused this because you couldn't admit you love me," Hermione quips.

It was weird how easily it slips out of her mouth now that she knows the truth.

"It's not like you did much better! You waited until I was unconscious to tell me; I at least waited until you were awake!" Draco pipes back, his eyebrows shooting upwards in a challenging look..

"After I almost died!" Hermione points out, her arms crossing accusingly. "And clearly you weren't actually asleep considering you heard me."

Now it's Draco who huffs out a laugh.

The room falls silent for a moment before Draco moves over to sit back down near her legs on the bed. The both of them sitting their together silently as they ponder over how fucked up their relationship has gotten.

Truth be told, neither one of them ever expected to fall in love. Their relationship was strictly physical at first, until over the past months it became much more. Their time spent together gone from Hermione sneaking out of his room late in the middle of the night, to her waking up to morning kisses and meaningful conversations.

"You know… If I remember correctly you only said it when you thought I was going to die too," he reminds her.

"Love."

"What?"

"It's love, not 'it' you can say it out loud. I promise it won't hurt you," Hermione reassures him, to which he snickers at but there's no heat behind it.

"You're going to make me say it again, aren't you?" he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before he lets it drop to his lap.

Now that she knew the truth, she was going to make him say it as much as she possibly could.

"I think you owe me that much."

He turns his head towards her, his expression turing more serious. "I owe you a lot more."

Hermione's face softens a little as his serious tone strikes her, making her want to reach out to him; so she does.

She leans forward to grab his hand, giving it a light tug before he understands what she wants.

They both shift to make room for him in the small bed. It's a tight fit as he lifts the sheets to crawl in next to her. Hermione can feel the heat of him seep into her as she rests her head on his shoulder. His heart beating steadily under her palm.

Draco lays next to her on his side, his head propped up by one hand; the other coming up to push her hair behind her ear. Hermione relaxing under his touch.

She takes a moment to let the past few nights sink in. While they still were both reeling from their confessions; neither one of them was running away this time. This time when she decided to jump off the tightrope, he was right there with her, his hand in hers as they dove off together.

He brings her attention back to him as his fingers trace down her jawline before settling under her chin.

His grey eyes are softer than she's ever seen before as he lifts her head up towards him. He ghosts his lips over hers, as if he was waiting for her permission; which she gladly gives by kissing him back with a little more force.

Their kiss is slow and patient, both of them taking their time to breathe one another in as if they had all the time in the world.

They have been through a lot together during this war, but with his firm touch and sharp mouth she wouldn't change a damn thing.

He pulls her out of her thoughts and closer to him as he whispers the three words against her mouth.

"I love you, Hermione."

Her chest fills with warmth as a smile threatens to spread across her face.

"I love you too, Draco."

….

A/N: Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed the story. Reviews are welcome and appreciated!