**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter the amazingly talented JK Rowling does…I just enjoy playing with her characters.

Chapter 2:

Over the following two days Hermione would wake, eat, and check on Malfoy. He was still unconscious and had only roused once the first day, crying out in pain, as she had drizzled more dittany onto his wounds. It took all of her strength to restrain him and feed him another pain potion followed quickly by a sleeping draught. Within moments his body had slumped back onto the pillows and she was able to continue her tasks.

Throughout the day she would check on him before re-warding the doors and going about her daily tasks. The second night, much like the first, she crawled into bed late after warding her room and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

She changed his bandages for the third time, the following day, and noticed his wounds were turning into white jagged scars. The flesh was still fragile and could easily be torn, but with the extra dittany she spared he was heading in the right direction. The scars on his face weren't as deep as those on his chest and were nearly completely healed and scarred over.

Unfortunately, there wasn't anything she could do to get rid of the scars. They were cursed and would forever mar his skin. Though they had been shallow, the grooved lines were still prominent and stretched from his right temple to the corner of his mouth giving him a dangerous rugged look.

Hermione caught herself staring at him a few times for longer than was necessary and even found herself stroking the scarred skin. Each time she would shake her head and scold herself, Stop, looking at him, because if he wakes up and catches you he'll probably go spar. After rewrapping the scars on his chest, she went downstairs to make some lunch.

Draco felt something warm against his cheek as he drifted in and out of sleep. Several minutes later he awoke but kept his eyes firmly shut, afraid to give himself away as he tried to recall where he was. He could feel he was in a bed, but most definitely not his own as the sheets weren't silk. A dull pain throbbed in his side and he tried his best to recall what had happened.

Thinking back, he was assaulted with the memories of Greyback's attack, coming to Upper Flagley, stumbling into the old cottage, and turning to see Granger before everything went black. He could also recall hazy images of her leaning over him as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Reaching up he touched his face and felt three thin scars running to the corner of his mouth; he grimaced at the thought of his hideous appearance. He knew werewolf scars were cursed, so he knew he would be disfigured for the rest of his life. His eyes flickered open and he took in a bright cream-colored room, smaller than his room at home but comfortable and roomy as it only held the bed, a night stand, a single wingback chair and an area rug in front of a hearth.

A fire crackled in the grate and he found himself reaching for his wand to extinguish the flames. The air in the room was stifling, making it difficult to breathe, so that was the first thing that needed to go. He looked around and wondered where she might have put his wand, realizing after a few moments that she would have confiscated it while he was unconscious. He couldn't blame her, he would have too if their roles were reversed.

Though, he couldn't help thinking he probably wouldn't have helped her if she had shown up at his house half dead. But he pushed that thought from his head as he pulled back the blankets and saw his chest wrapped in white bandages. He didn't want to look at those scars just yet, he knew how deep they were and that thought alone revolted him. Idly he wondered when she had undressed him and what he was going to do for new clothes after recalling his were a shredded mess.

Leaning against the headboard, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves and was taken aback as his nose was overcome with a variety of intense odors. He could smell the acrid stench of burning wood, the faint scent of mildew, a lingering vanilla and lavender odor mixed with something he couldn't quite distinguish but knew he had smelt before, the crisp fall air flowing in through the cracked window, and cooking sausage that made his mouth water. Standing quickly from the bed he went to the door and attempted to open it, his stomach growling from the delicious aroma.

No sooner had he wrapped his hand around the handle than he found himself releasing it, yelping in pain. Electricity had arched up his arm leaving it tingling and numb. He could hear a spoon clatter to the counter and the stove top being switched off as someone rushed across the floor and bounded up the stairs. Draco turned quickly looking for an escape, fearful it might be someone other than Hermione…such as the two arse's she called friends.

Seeing the cracked window, he rushed over and attempted to wrench it open, realizing too late that it was laced with the same spell. After the arch of electricity left his hand this time he fell to his knees in pain, taking in ragged breaths.

He knew he was trapped as he listened to the footsteps nearing his room. The door opened with a bang before a blurry figure rushed across the floor. "Malfoy, what are you doing out of bed?" he heard Hermione chastise. He couldn't recall a time when he'd ever been so grateful to hear her voice, but it was short lived as pain radiated through his arm.

"I smelled food, and I was hungry" he snapped "why the bloody hell did you lock me in here?" Bending down she grasped his uninjured arm and helped him to his feet before steering him back to the bed.

The touch of her hands sent shivers down his spine and he drew a deep breath in surprise at her strength. Lavender, vanilla, and the musky scent from earlier invaded his senses; overpowering him and causing him to lean into the crook of her neck to breathe deeply.

Hermione stiffened and shoved him backwards. An acrid smell of fear radiated off of her and burned his nose as he looked up into her rich chocolate eyes. She gasped and backed away, covering her mouth as her eyes widened.

"I'm…I'm sorry, I don't know why…stop looking at me like that, I didn't mean to" he said exasperatedly.

"Malfoy, that's not…I mean the sniffing was weird but…but your eyes" she stumbled over her words.

"What about them?" he asked in a confused demanding voice.

"They were gold for a few moments, I swear I saw them flicker gold."

"That's not possible Granger. It was probably just the firelight."

"No, they were lupine in color" she insisted. What little color he had regained during his recovery drained from his face.

"But it wasn't a full moon, he hadn't changed" he whispered.

"This happened to Bill last year." Malfoy looked at her and waited for her to explain. "Well," she swallowed hard before continuing "Greyback attacked him during the battle after you let in…I mean you know the night" he closed his eyes not wanting to think about his last night at Hogwarts or the tragedy that followed. "Anyways, Bill's face had been disfigured from Greyback's claws. After he healed, we found he had some werewolf traits, but since it hadn't been a full-moon he wasn't a full wolf."

"What do mean some traits? What kind of traits" he asked trying to keep control on the panic he felt rising in his chest.

"Well he has heightened senses, especially his hearing and sense of smell. He found he was a bit stronger than a regular man…but not like he-man…"

"Who?"

"Never mind, Bill was a bit stronger, liked his meat rarer, and well his mood swings were more prominent." She sighed wondering how many of these traits Malfoy would have and if he would be a moody arse the rest of the time he was here. Then she wondered if he would have more traits because his injuries were a lot worse than Bill's.

"I definitely have the smell thing" he said in attempt to add to the conversation and avoid panicking. Hermione giggled but instantly tried to stifle it as she caught his glare.

"Sorry, but I was just thinking Obviously" she said in her best Snape impression eliciting a chuckle from Malfoy.

"I am sorry for whatever just happened…I don't know why I did it, I had no control. It was like something took over me for a second…" he rambled before trailing off and glaring at the floor.

"What do you mean?" she asked drawing his grey eyes back to her.

"Nothing" he said recalling who she was and the fact that they were not friends, they were enemies. It didn't matter that she had saved him, he was a Death Eater…well not anymore…but she was still an Order member and he her tormentor. He was not about to confide in her the strange things he was feeling after being infected by a werewolf.

"Malfoy," she stepped closer to him "what do you mean something controlled you? Do you mean like a…a wolf? I didn't think…" she trailed off. Wondering to herself is this had happened to Bill, had a wolf partially risen inside them from the cursed scars that adorned their skin? What other abilities would he have from the affected areas? She made a mental note to check the books she'd pulled from her bag.

"Don't worry about it, Granger" he snapped "it's none of your business so stop acting like you're concerned." He didn't want her prying into his life. Knowing her, she would tell her Order friends and everyone else would shun him for the freak he'd become.

"It concerns me if you're going to be staying here until you're fully recovered" she quipped. "If a bloody wolf is going to be assaulting me I'd like to know!"

"Well then how bout I make it easy for you and clear off." He went to stand and cross the room but only made it a few steps before crumpling to his knees and hissing out in pain. Hermione hesitated for only a moment before helping him back up and into bed.

"Honestly Malfoy" she said as she shook her head and pushed him backwards. Leaning over, she looked down and saw blood spreading through his bandages. "Lie back so I can change these. No, don't speak just do as I ask" she demanded and he closed his mouth silencing his retort before complying.

She worked quickly as he watched her unravel his bandages. His eyes widened as he took in the numerous scars littering the right side of his chest. They were deepest by his hip, which was where the thin tender skin had torn open. The thinnest areas which had healed and scarred over were found by his sternum.

He grimaced and averted his eyes, not wanting to look at the disfigured area anymore. He knew he'd been handsome as girls used to fawn over him all the time at school. So naturally he had become a bit vain and couldn't help mourning the loss of his flawless skin, especially since now women would run the opposite way after seeing his wretched scars.

Shifting his focus from his self-loathing thoughts he watched Hermione apply dittany to his torn flesh; drawing a hiss from between his clenched teeth. "Sorry, I know it hurts but it's the only thing that will work on these, outside of a few ointments I didn't have on hand." Gently she wrapped new bandages around the wounds, causing goosepimples to rise behind her trailing fingers. Draco did his best to suppress a shudder at the feel of her fingertips, he wasn't used to anyone's touch eliciting such a reaction.

"Thank you" he said in a soft voice. He had watched her eyebrows knit together in concentration as she worked and nibbled her lip. Taking the time to really look at her, he noticed her olive complexion was rather appealing and the light smattering of freckles adorning her nose looked positively endearing. His eyes trailed over her soft pink lips and for a moment he had the urge to know what it felt like to nibble them.

Snapping out of it he shook his head and looked down as she finished tying off the gauze. What was wrong with him, wondering what she tasted like? Seriously? He knew she was pretty, he had figured that out back in fourth year at the bloody Yule Ball, but he hadn't entertained thoughts of pursuing her in years. No, this was just because she had saved his life, nothing more. It wasn't because she smelt like heaven, nor that she had beautiful eyes, and a mouth he wanted to devour.

Blinking rapidly, he determined he needed to get out of there and fast, it wouldn't do for him to start fancying Granger. No, no, no, she's a damn mudblood he told himself.

We need her another voice sounded in his head causing him to recoil.

What? No…we…I mean I-I don't. Silence greeted him and he relaxed thinking it was nothing more than a subconscious thought.

"Malfoy?" Hermione was waving her hand in front of his face. He shook his head and looked up into her soft brown eyes "Are you with me? I was asking if sausage and eggs were okay…I haven't been to the market in a few days. I didn't want to have you wake up to an empty house…" she trailed off.

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry, I was just thinking, I didn't mean to zone" he stammered.

"It's alright I do it too" she said lightly. "Stay in bed and I'll bring you something. You still need another day or two before you can move about. With the added dittany, hopefully, you'll be able to shower and walk around tomorrow." With that she pulled the covers over him and headed to the door.

"Wait, Granger" he spoke quickly causing her to turn at the door "please, don't lock it…I mean I understand why you did. But, well I'm wandless and I'll stay in bed like you said, just don't lock the door." He nearly said please again but refused because he wasn't use to asking nicely for anything. He usually demanded, but he knew that wouldn't work with her. However, he didn't want to explain his fears to the know-it-all, afraid she would taunt him or worse tell Potter and the weasel.

"Okay," she said tentatively "you promise to stay in bed?"

"Yes" he stated with a grimace at being bossed around.

"Then I won't lock it…unless you give me reason to." With that she left and went to make lunch. He laid back with his arms behind his head and listened as she walked across the floor and to the kitchen. He could hear her restart the stove and move the pans around to continue her earlier cooking.

As he laid there and waited he thought about what would happen now. He had nowhere to go with only the small amount of money he'd been able to grab from his trunk before running, the clothes on his back (now shredded), and his wand. Where could he go? Granger didn't know it but he was now just as hunted as she was, he had failed in yet another mission and the dark Lord wasn't as forgiving as he'd been the first time.

Hell, the first time his father told him to be grateful all he'd been given was ten minutes of the cruciatus curse. Ten minutes that felt like hours of torture and pain piercing every inch of his skin as he screamed out begging for him to stop as the surrounding Death Eaters laughed at him.

He recalled coming to his knees, thinking it was finally over. His body had trembled and dripped with sweat as he took in shaky breaths. After a few moments the dark Lord had ordered him to look at him. It had taken all his strength not to vomit from the lingering pain as he craned his neck to look up into the gleeful red eyes.

Idly he noticed that his senses were coming back as he was asked if he had learned his lesson yet, that failure wasn't tolerated. He was asked if he understood that because he was so young this, this torture, was mercy. Draco listened and answered automatically to everything the dark Lord said apologizing over and over as the masked figures surrounding him openly laughed at his pain.

The worst part wasn't when they laughed, it wasn't when he shamefully begged for forgiveness, it was when the dark Lord said he would only forgive him when the punishment was complete. Draco had looked at him with confusion, thinking he had survived his ten minutes. Voldemort had read this thought and cackled before explaining he had stopped after only three minutes so they had seven more to go.

Upon hearing this Draco had gulped and looked down at the floor waiting for the onslaught to begin. But Voldemort wanted to take it a step further. He made him ask to be punished, made him plead with the dark Lord to finish the punishment so he could be forgiven. The room echoed with sniggers and laughter as he meekly asked to be tortured for failing his master.