I'm sorry for posting this when I haven't updated my other story in a while! I'm afraid that will have to wait till x-mas. But I haven't forgotten it!
. . .
Fuck.
This would be the end of her.
How long had it been?
How long had it been since she had been stuck in bloody traffic?
Hermione let out a long drawn sigh and slumped back into her seat. She absentmindedly fanned herself with her paperback. She had finished it over an hour ago. Her other hand lifted off the steering wheel and she lifted her tank top in a sorry attempt to cool down. The sun was merciless, burning so bright she had to squint to see.
She should have known today would not go smoothly.
She should have been moved into her new flat by now. After months of careful apartment hunting she had finally settled on one and had arranged for her belongings to be sent before her. She had gotten up early and made breakfast for her parents, eggs, bacon, toast and jam, and tea. She had taken one last look around her bare room which granted, after having started boarding school, it was only her room during the summer and other holidays.
"Do take care, Hermione," Her mother had told her teary.
"Don't hesitate to call," Her father had told her, releasing her from a hug. "You know of course, how much we love you."
Hermione had smiled and given her mother a kiss on the cheek before getting in her car and slamming the door closed. She had sailed smoothly off.
Then…
"Crookshanks!"
She came to a screeching halt and luckily for her, the road were desert at that moment, for she made a U-turn (an illegal one, mind you) and sped back to her house in _.
beep
Beep.
BEEEEEEEEEP!
"Oh!" Hermione gasped, stepping on the gas.
Oh, how lovely it felt, the wind cooling the sweat on her skin.. A few dark curls escaped from her messy bun, whipping at her neck, but she paid no mind, she was moving again.
She still had hours to go.
At least, she reminded herself, at least, she was in her car and not stuck on one of those dreaded contraptions called planes.
She hated flying.
The road she had switched to was clearer, with very little cars passing her.
Fur Elise began to play from her stereo and she was reminded of her and Ron in Harry's Godfather's house. Sirius was still on the run and oh it was terribly dreadful business if you asked her. The trio knew that Sirius was innocent, framed by the same people who had attempted to kidnap Harry and had forced them into hiding.
But that had been almost a year ago, and those fiends hadn't bothered them in quite some time. Not since Albus Dumbledore had been found dead. It had garnered too much attention from the media and more importantly from the ministry. They had kept a safe distance since then, making sure to lay low.
But Hermione knew that could only be for so long.
She squinted. There was something far down the side of the road. It was moving. An animal?
A person.
Surely. Surely they weren't…
She watched horror struck as the figure stopped in the middle of the road.
Her fingers tightened around the wheel.
She was going too fast.
Her heart was beating too fast too.
She could see him clearer now, tall and pale and around her age.
She could slam the breaks and end up flipping the car. She could keep going and pray he would come to his senses and move out of the way or she could…
She gasped sharply as the car swerved, missing the boy just barely.
Hermione saw his eyes, deep and grey and piercing. Their eyes connected for only a moment before hers quickly shut as her hands jerked the wheel.
The eye contact was brief but long enough to register that he was glaring…at her.
A second passed.
And she was ok?
Hermione opened her eyes quickly and saw nothing but empty roads ahead. She eased off the gas and took a deep breath.
She looked in the review mirror and he was but a speck and then he was gone.
Hermione couldn't believe what had just happened. Then her terror and shock melted away and she was overcome with righteous fury.
A wicked scowl graced her features and her cheeks flushed.
This time she did slam the breaks. And for the second time that day, she made a U-turn and stepped on it.
The engine reared and there was no stopping her, this kid was about to receive an earful from her, a piece of her mind.
He was still stood there in the middle of the road his back facing her as her car approached. She almost thought it was as though he was waiting for her, and that made her impossibly angrier.
Her car came to a swift halt beside him. And he finally looked up at her.
She pressed against her seatbelt closer to her window to face the little toe rag who was still glaring at her!
"What is wrong with you?" she hissed, "Are you mental? You can't just stand in the middle of the road like a great lump! You're lucky I didn't hit you! I- "
She paused to take a breath and her words faltered after her as she looked at the boy closer.
"Oh dear," she muttered, as she took him in.
He was badly scraped up and he was breathing harshly. And there was blood-
"Are you alright?" she asked uncertainly, "What happ-"
At her worrying he seemed to grow even angrier and his eyes glinted dangerously.
"That's none of your concern, muggle!" he spat and he turned on his heel to leave. (Where to, she had no idea, as he seemed to be stranded, she began to realize.)
"You're a wizard?" she called out after him.
He halted in his tracks and turned back towards her. "You're a witch?" he asked back, his voice smooth and deep. His brow was raised.
Her eyes wide, she nodded affirmative.
He seemed to consider her for a moment before deciding he could make it on his own. He turned around again and left. He didn't know where he was going but he knew one thing for sure. He didn't need her hel-
"You need help!"
He rolled his eyes, annoying bint-
He was surprised by the sound of her car door slamming.
Her sandals quickly padded over gravel to reach him.
"Wait," Hermione said, her arms crossed, "You can't leave like this."
"Then what would you suggest, miss…?"
He squinted at her. If he was being honest he felt slightly light headed. And the sun was just so goddamned bright.
"I know a few healing spells she said," drawing his attention back to her.
He didn't respond and so she brandished her wand. At his face.
His eyes widened.
"Episky," she muttered, paying him no mind, and he could feel his split lip heal. She cast a few other minor healing spells and even mended the tear in his otherwise pristine, white button down.
"Your shirt, please," Hermione commanded.
He glared at her then and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Whatever, he wasn't in his right mind right now anyways. He untucked his shirt and pulled it up just a bit.
Hermione gasped, "Are you mental?" Hermione asked again, this time though, shrieking.
Tom cringed and covered his wound back up.
"I can't… I can't fix that. We have to go to a hospital."
"No!" Tom said quickly, glaring again. He stuffed his hands in his pocket. "I'm not going to a hospital."
"But it must be treated! It could get infected, it looks serious! I'm sure there's a hospital around here somewhere. I could even apparate us-"
"It's cursed. Muggles can't help me."
"Cursed?" Hermione asked frowning, "If it was magically induced then you need to go to Saint Mungo's!"
"I can't, woman!" Tom grit in frustration.
"Hermione!"
Hmm? Tom looked up.
"My name is Hermione!" she snapped. Then her expression softened.
"Can't?" she asked confused, brow furrowing.
Why not? Who had cursed him?
"I have some dittany in my car." She told him finally.
"Come on then," she called for him to follow.
He thought the name suited her, Hermione.
She opened her car door and reached for her blue beaded bag in the passenger's seat. She summoned the vial and Tom confidently sat in the passenger's seat. It was nearly empty. She had used most of it on Ron after he had splinched his arm and then Harry after he had been attacked by a snake.
Tom looked curiously at the bottle as she unstoppered it. A clear, brown liquid swished around the bottom.
Hermione gathered the last of the dittany in the dropper and lifted Tom's shirt gently. Blood had crusted over it and the skin around the gash was tinged purple. With a shaky hand she let the liquid drip over the wound.
He watched intrigued as greenish smoke billowed upward from the wound. He forced his breathing calm and ignored the sting, instead concentrating on the effects of the dittany. As the smoke cleared, he saw the bleeding had stopped. The wound now looked several day old; new skin stretched over what had been open flesh.
It was not completely healed however, faint purple veins littered the scar.
"Fascinating," Tom breathed. Then he tugged his shirt down and his eyes met Hermione's.
He was terribly handsome and they were closer than she thought. His cheeks were sharp and hollow and he had long dark lashes shading cat like eyes. His lips were thin and pale and smirking…
Embarrassed, her cheeks flushed and she drew away quickly, righting herself in her seat and gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"Thank you, Hermione," he said, laying on the charm pretty thick.
"Oh, sure," she squeaked. Why was she acting so foolish? She scolded herself.
Squashing her nervousness down she asked, "Where are you headed?"
There was a pause before slowly he said, "London."
"Really?" Hermione asked surprised. "I'm headed there too… I could get you there…" she offered uncertainly.
"That would be much appreciated," Tom said, his eyes widening endearingly.
Alarm bells were going off in her head as she started the call and pulled out from the curb.
Did he have a split personality disorder? Why had he walked into the middle of the road? Were people after him? What was his na-
"What's your name?" Hermione asked as soon as she was back on the road.
There was no answer. She turned to look at him and found him sleeping, breathing softly. Wind whipped a lock of his hair softly over his for head and the sun casted fluttering shadows across the contour of his face. He looked peaceful.
Hermione turned back to the road and swallowed. What was she getting herself into?
