Class was about to start, and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Draco tore out of the classroom, cursing himself for leaving Hermione alone for even a second when fucking Weasel was still around. He remembered watching her leave the Hall with Potter, then Snape had descended the Staff table to ream him for public fighting. That was the last he had seen her...and now he was panicking.
He ripped door after door open, along the corridor, until he reached the other end of the hallway. A stifled sob was coming from somewhere...choosing the door to his left, he almost threw up with rage and fear at the sight his eyes met. Ron was holding a bloody Hermione up against the wall with one arm, his hand firmly grasping her throat, strangling her.
He ran straight at Ron, punching him squarely in the face, satisfied when he heard the sickening crunch that meant his nose had broken. Blood spurted from Ron's nostrils, and he let go of Hermione to cup at his face.
Draco caught Hermione's limp form, his level of panick increasing as he realized she was unconcious. She was still breathing, thank the gods, but there was blood pouring from her head, and there was a deep gash on top of her bruised cheek.
Raking his eyes over her body, he also saw that there were red marks from Ron's hand along her neck. He Conjured a pillow and gently lifted her head onto it.
There was a disturbance at the doorway as Harry arrived, Ginny in quick tow. They both gasped, and Draco stood up. "She needs to go to the Hospital Wing. I'll deal with this fucker." Draco said to Harry, who nodded, and with Ginny's help magicked a stretcher under Hermione.
"I'll be back to help." Harry said to Draco, and he and Ginny led Hermione's stretcher with the tips of their wands.
Draco turned to Ron, who was still nursing his nose. "You really think you're some hot shit, don't you? Do you think it's manly, beating a woman? Beating my woman?"
Ron removed his hands and spat at Draco's feet, spraying blood and saliva everywhere. "She isn't your woman, you fucking git, she's mine. She's always been mine, and she'll always be mine. I'm not going to lose her to some bastard like you."
"Lucky for you Hermione wouldn't want me to beat you senseless. Instead, we'll do things the way she would want us to. Civilized." With a lazy wave of his hand bindings appeared, tying Ron's wrists and ankles together. He fell to the floor with a thud.
"How dare you, you fucker! Wait until Dumbledore gets wind of this, I'm a Prefect, you can't treat me-"
"Silencio!" A voice came from the door. Ron's shouts turned silent, and he opened and shut his mouth, looking like a guppy. Harry stepped over the threshold, nodding at Draco. "You're right, you know. She wouldn't have wanted you to beat him to a pulp."
Draco nodded. "Is she okay?"
Harry nodded. "She's safe now...thanks to you. Madame Pomfrey says we can see her in a few hours, after she patches her up. Listen...thanks, Draco. If you hadn't realized what was going on..."
"He would have killed her." Draco finished Harry's sentence. "But this is bigger than just beating the shit out of him. He's going to have to face his family, the rest of the school, probably the Ministry. The entire Wizarding world will know what a fuck face he really is...hear that, Weasel? And then, after everything has happened and you have been punished, because you can bet to high hell that I won't let you go unpunished, then I'm going to beat the shit out of you. You almost killed the woman I love, and I will never forget that, or forgive you for it. You've tempted a viper, and I swear to you, on my mother's grave, that one day, I will kill you."
---
It was three hours later, and Harry and Draco had delivered Ron to Dumbledore, explaining what they had both seen, Draco telling the Headmaster how he had begun to suspect abuse, then followed the sound of Hermione's sobbing when she had failed to show up for class.
Harry had been ashamed that he hadn't realized sooner, but both Draco and Dumbledore had assured him it wasn't his fault. Draco himself had told him how he had watched Hermione endlessly for weeks, and hadn't caught on until the very end.
"Sir," Draco began, after a silence had set in between the three of them. "Would it be alright if-"
Dumbledore held up a silencing hand, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. "Go to her, Draco. Harry and I will remain here. I'll inform his family, and Professor McGonagall will be here shortly. Miss Granger is a lucky girl, she is indebted to you."
Draco gave a swift nod, and hurried from Dumbledore's office.
---
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I thought I'd be seeing you soon. She's in the last bed on the right. She's sleeping, but if she wakes, there's a tray of food for her, try and get her to eat something, she was in pretty nasty shape when Miss Weasley brought her to me, she'll need all the strength she can get. Move along, now, I've got other medications to give. " Madame Promfrey ushered him down the aisle of the infirmary, pulling a rolling cart of small plastic cups and glass bottles, some filled with colored liquids, others full to the brim with pills in various shapes and lengths.
He easily spotted Hermione, her long, curly hair sprawled out on the pillow behind her head. She was indeed sleeping, her breaths deep and even. He noticed the bruise on her cheek was almost completely faded, and the red marks from her throat had gone away completely. He suspected the rest of her was as nicely healed, and as he drew up a chair with his wand, Hermione's eyes fluttered open.
"Draco," she said, smiling. "I thought I smelled you."
Draco returned her smile, scooting his chair closer to her bed and searching among the sheets and blankets for her hand. His fingertips brushed her own, and he warmly enveloped her hand in his.
She flinched at this tender action, not being used to having a guy touch her in such a way, but Draco shook his head. "I'm not like him, you're safe now. No one is ever going to hurt you again, I'm going to protect you." It was a promise that Draco would keep for eternity.
He loved Hermione, loved her to the core of his very being, and he would never again allow physical harm to come to her. She was the one who had given him a second chance, who had welcomed him into the Order with open arms. She cared about him, cared for him like no other ever had.
Hermione nodded slowly. "I know. Isn't that odd? I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you'll always be there for me."
Draco smiled again. "It's not odd, it's the truth. I'll always be here. Now, let's dig in, shall we? Madame Pomfrey will have my ass if you don't eat your lunch." He pointed to a tray on Hermione's bedside table.
---
When Dumbledore himself sent a letter to Molly and Arthur Weasley, explaining what had happened and that Draco Malfoy had been the one to apprehend their son, that Ron's own sister and best friend had caught him in the act of trying to strangle Hermione to death, the two Weasley parents had shown up to the school, livid.
Ron, who had, for some unknowable reason, suspected he had gotten off quite easy and without punishment, was dragged from the hall by the scruff of his neck by his mother, while Arthur shook hands with Harry and Draco, who upon seeing the Weasley's enter the Great Hall, had come over from the Slytherin table to see Ron have his ass handed to him by his mother, who was easily three feet shorter than him.
"Hermione will never forgive us for this," Arthur said, shaking his head.
"It's all okay, dad. I've talked to her about it...she knows that you and mum had no idea, nor I, for that matter." Ginny had also joined their party, and gave her dad a quick hug. "Speaking of which, I'm off to visit her, still in the hospital wing, you know. Coming, Harry, Draco?" Ginny asked.
"In a minute, Ginny, your mother and I would like to speak with Draco, if that's quite okay?" Arthur said, looking at Draco.
Draco nodded. "Of course, sir. Tell Hermione I'll be there soon."
"And us, as well." Arthur said over his shoulder, as he and Draco exited the Hall.
When they were alone in the Entrance Hall, and Molly had joined them, after locking Ron in McGonagall's office, as his Head of House decided the proper course of action for his punishment at Hogwarts, Arthur had pulled out a rolled and wax-sealed scroll. "It's an Order of Merlin. Third class, but you can bet your Hippogriff's I'll be trying to get First. The Minister was glad of your bravery, but you know how Cornelius is, Hermione being...well, not a full-blooded witch."
"Sir, I didn't...I mean, it wasn't...it wasn't like I saved the day or anything. In fact, I can't believe that I was stupid enough to take so long to realize it...Hermione says it's been going on for almost a year now."
"Draco, we love Hermione like she's our own daughter, and with her mother and father being killed by the Death Eaters...well, we've come to feel like her parents. Her safety is first and foremost, and now thanks to you, she is safe." Molly said, taking one of Draco's hands in both of hers.
"You're a fine person, son. You really have changed, you're a man now, and not like your father." Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder.
The fact that Arthur Weasley, probably his father's most bitter enemy during his life, was here, telling him what a good man he was, made Draco feel more worthy than the Order of Merlin the Minister had issued him.
"There's no real way we can repay you, Draco, except to invite you and Hermione to our house for the Christmas holidays. We're shipping Ron off to Arthur's cousin in America, says he can put him through something called military school, should whip him right into shape." Molly said, as the three of them set of towards the Hospital wing.
"I'd love to, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure Hermione will be thrilled as well."
They had reached the infirmary, and Mr. Weasley held the door open and allowed his two companions to pass before him. Hermione was sitting up in bed, a large smile forming on her face as she saw Draco approach. God, she's beautiful, he thought to himself, as Arthur and Molly hugged Hermione.
Her curly hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her face was, as usual, free of any makeup, but she hardly needed any. Her brown eyes were framed by the blackest of lashes, her cheeks always slightly flushed a gorgeous shade of peach, and her lips full and deliciously pink.
What they tasted like, however, was a mere guess to Draco. Hermione was so vulnerable, and though Ron was now, for the moment anyway, out of her life, she was still scared. It was a sad truth, that Ron had scarred her in such a way that the softest of touches were associated with nothing but a physical pain that ran deep, and an emotional pain that ran even deeper, and he vowed, one more time, to make the Weasel pay.