One week later:
Hermione awoke with a start and a dry mouth; she rolled her head working out where she was. Warm light cascaded over her and she recognised where she was all too well. The hospital wing. Lightly flapping curtains hung down either side of the bed obscuring her ability to tell if anyone was there.
Sensing something was off and with a weary head she lifted herself onto her elbows.
'What in the world,' something felt so strange about this bed. Taking a corner of the pale blanket in hand she drew it back and looked at her legs, bringing a hand to lie on her thigh she couldn't feel it, couldn't move it. Jumping away from her leg sent her headlong onto the unforgiving floor. Tears rushed to her cheeks as she tried to move and found her arms the only route of escape.
Where was everyone? Why was she alone? What was going on? Her breaths came faster and closer together. This made no sense and if one thing was true of all her studying, things for Hermione tended to make sense. There was no pain where her legs were there was nothingness.
Hermione's eyes found Harry's as her friend came into the hospital wing. 'Harry,' she gasped barely audible as her friend skidded towards her on the polished floor and fell onto his knees next to her.
'Hermione,' he said pulling her into his arms, she looked so lost in the middle of the vast floor. 'I'm sorry.' It reminded him of horrible times and battles they were too young to fight. He was so glad she'd woken up; maybe things would be okay now.
'Harry,' she cried into the dark head of hair that curled into her shoulder. Her body flashed hot and cold, her brain felt like it was tumbling through waves of foam. Malfoy held back as Ron went to her side, eyes trained on the castle windows; the sound of her tears speckled the walls around the group, all hearts tightening. He'd been visiting daily the same as them much to Weasley's intense dislike, Pomfrey hadn't told them anything except that she would wake up when she was ready. Malfoy's father wanted news of her condition after hearing of the attack from who knows where.
'What happened to my…' tears fell from the bridge of her nose and she could taste the salt dripping into her mouth. Her toes refused to move, her legs to lift and it felt like the cruellest trick in the world. No one else was in the wing and for that she was grateful.
Harry pulled back confused, 'what is it Hermione?'
Her eyes stayed fixed to her legs and Harry and Ron exchanged baffled glances. Malfoy, much the wiser from the horrors he'd seen knew that face. 'Her legs,' he said wondering how so much emotion could try to creep into two insignificant words, he pushed it down. Her eyes flashed up to his and he felt like a book unable to close his pages. She broke the gaze and tried to find her words.
'Who did it?' she was sure he couldn't have.
Malfoy felt a deep roll of nausea at her brief inquiring glance in his direction. She couldn't think he had done this.
'It was Zabini,' Ron coming to sit by her, 'He's disappeared.'
'Yeah but not before Malfoy got his hands on him,' Harry's mouth curved reassuringly.
'Yeah, used the Sectumsempra,' Ron gestured vigorously and then realised who he was talking about. Jerk. He didn't spot Malfoy's smirk.
Hermione's mind spun with the information, she'd never really known Zabini but she supposed every Slytherin had a special hate for close friends of Harry Potter. She wondered if Malfoy was in trouble, her eyes flicked up to his face but lingered on his legs; he stood while the rest of them sat, how blessed one person could be.
For some reason her mind wandered and she pondered how ridiculous it now felt that in her time spent standing she had attended only one ball worth mentioning and, her sole dance had been with Victor Krum; a boy she didn't even talk to anymore; that would be her only memory of dancing. Loosening her hold from Harry as her head began to pound, she let him go slightly damper than when he'd arrived.
Malfoy watched memories and grimaces flit alike across Granger's face; how animated she looked when she thought. The sun was lower and it caught her hair, making her look like an angel that had fallen out of the sky and met a painful mark in the ground.
Flashback
Having found his target out of sight of other people Malfoy's fist connected with Zabini's jaw and knocked him into the tower wall. The rain was gushing down the stone walls and pooling dangerously on the stone floor. Out of sight they could have their fair fight, backing up Malfoy produced his wand. 'Come on Zabini, defend yourself.' He didn't need Crabbe and Goyle here, not now.
'Sure,' Zabini rolled his wand arrogantly in his hand, 'but Granger won't have you the next time I carry out orders, if she wakes up,' his wand nearly fell through his fingers and he faltered to catch it.
Malfoy had been absent whenever possible from Dark gatherings; had Voldemort's favour fallen on Blaise in his place? He sniffed and wiped the water that was streaming down his face with his free hand, the rain was lashing them. Images of what their fathers had ingrained them with since childhood ran through Malfoy's mind with disgust, knowing Zabini's plan his lip curled back in revulsion.
'Sectumsempra,' a slash of Malfoy's wand threw him back towards the ledge and tore across Blaise's chest. The rain flew back as though burned as Blaise fell hard. Fear coursed up Malfoy's arm but it would protect Granger from this dangerous unknown.
'Expelliarmus,' Dumbledore's face loomed into view, deeply lined by his frown. 'Vulnera Sanentur,' Dumbledore's wand worked magic into the bleeding form of Blaise.
'Mr Malfoy,' he whirled around at such speed that Malfoy had to step back. The shadow cast by Dumbledore was long and for the first time intimidating enough to send a shiver down Draco's back.
'The Ministry will deal with Mr Zabini. You are neither judge nor executioner, I advise you to leave this instant.' Dumbledore's voice boomed even without a large room to amplify it. The implication was clear, he would be dealt with later.
Malfoy left before Dumbledore could change his mind; he hoped Blaise would be too terrified to try anything now. His father couldn't have known he'd ever be angry enough to use that spell, he'd probably thought of it as a malicious slow device of torture. His hand shook as he pocketed his wand and took the stairs two at a time.
He was going to see her. She had no idea the danger she was in.
Bypassing Ron and Harry and ducking down to her level Malfoy put his arms under Hermione and lifted her back onto the bed. Everyone tensed as he released her but recovered at Hermione's yawn, remembering that she was meant to be resting. Hermione's bushy head had lain against his chest for a moment, he wondered if she'd heard his heart racing through his dress robes. Shaking the thought away when he met those sad frazzled eyes he chided himself for thinking she'd think of him right now. He was inconsequential after all in Grangers life, or anyone's you'd care to ask, he didn't need their care. But she might need his.
'Get some sleep 'Mione,' Ron said as Harry straightened out the foot of her blanket and worried his scar. He'd have liked to injure Zabini but he guessed if you wanted an unfair fight, Malfoy was unarguably right for that job. Bloody Slytherins.
Harry and Ron moved to leave, as Malfoy remained unmoved, still in his thoughts.
'I want to ask Malfoy something,' Hermione said as way of explanation before they might argue. In truth she had no idea why he had lingered, but she wanted to know.
Seeing the back of the red head, Draco sighed and turned quizzically to Hermione. She'd been gazing at him in a similar manner when she noticed his bloodied knuckles.
'Your hand!' she reached out and grasped it causing Malfoy to flinch noticeably, his eyes moving from his knuckles to her face.
His fingers made a memory of hers, as they remained a moment longer under his own. It was simple curiosity, how did these delicate muggle hands master so much he mused. She was the last person he had expected to suddenly make contact; it had been such a long time absent. His father shunned him for any occasion but discipline and his mother didn't know how to act under Lucius' gaze, choosing rather to use words to comfort him.
Hermione lifted her wand but paused as she gazed at the wounds. Her mind slowed down and she felt his warm fingers in hers, not cold as she had expected. The only other time she'd been this close to him, she had broken his nose. Her brown eyes flicked to his grey gaze and met an unfocused thought.
'No need to be repulsed Granger,' Malfoy said pulling his hand away.
'Tergeo,' she said and the blood from his hand vanished, he looked up surprised.
'I was not repulsed Malfoy, I was thinking about the time I punched you.' Hermione blushed at the absurdity of her answer. He took a wary step back but watched the growing smirk with one brow raised and his unreadable expression in place. Unless someone wanted to injure him anew they had never healed him. Did Granger want revenge?
'Episkey,' Madame Pomfrey said bustling in and spotting Draco's clean wounds, they stitched as Draco grimaced.
'Your dinner Miss Granger,' a tray of not entirely appetising food was placed in front of her. Hermione had thoughts of muggle hospital food and grimaced. At least nothing else about the room was clinical, but she wanted her books.
'When will I be able to leave?' Hermione tried to sound polite but the hysteria of this situation settled inside her. The spacious room started to look known and smaller.
'Certainly not today,' Madame Pomfrey said. Malfoy thought about the lack of protective magic on the hospital wing, ironic in his mind. Could he protect her here, did he want to?
'But I have Draco to help me,' Hermione wrung her hands, purposely using his first name to convince Pomfrey and perhaps Malfoy that they were in fact close friends. It had come out sounding like a foreign language she'd never voiced but still. Malfoy's head swivelled at the use of his first name and met her desperate look.
'Is that so, Mr Malfoy?' Madame Pomfrey peered sceptically over the bed at the rigid Slytherin.
Half an hour later, with much reassurance, Hermione was dressed, Malfoy having been shooed out to wait dubiously with her wheelchair. The contraption looked impractical and slow; opposite to the Granger he knew who was always rushing from one place to another. Wouldn't a firebolt be more use?
The curtain flew open to reveal Hermione back in robes leaning her weight self-consciously on her arms. If the last weeks trauma hadn't been evident on her face she'd have looked unchanged. Pomfrey stood back and levitated her insisting it was policy not to lift. Hermione's expression said everything she thought about being levitated like a piece of luggage. She felt the cool alloy wheels beneath her fingers and tried to feel natural. She'd seen Malfoy eyeing it and was equally unsure, though at least she knew what a wheelchair was.
Before she could catch her bearings Malfoy began to push and the wheels rushed beneath her fingers. Snatching her hands back she tried to imagine how she looked now. Glancing back at Malfoy she supposed she was much shorter than before as she was seated. It would have been lovely to stand up and dash down to dinner, she was starving for real food. The bottoms of alcoves passed her and the faces of house elves here and there seemed much closer than usual.
'Are you alright?' Malfoy asked, unused to not confronting her face to face.
'Yes,' she said trying to turn to face him but finding herself less mobile. 'This chair is annoying.'
He could imagine her peeved expression but was pulled from his imaginings when he noticed the pattern her hair weaved from this angle. She sighed pulling hair behind her ears, 'No. Actually I'm not alright.'
Apparently if she was going to confide weakness it was going to pour forth to Draco Malfoy.
'I'm just not sure how this is all going to work, how people will treat me,' she said folding the material of her gown between her fingers. 'Not that I care what people think.'
He wanted to say it would be the same as always but she was smarter than to believe everything that came out of his mouth. 'Do you want to go to your dorm or for dinner?' he said instead. She was the same Hermione to him, equal parts irritating and intelligent.
At that moment the floor started to sway in front of Hermione's eyes and she tipped forward. The smack as she hit the floor echoed horrifically. Draco dashed forward; it was horrible to see her on the floor helpless again.
Pulling her upright he tried to get her to focus, 'Hermione,' he said steadying her.
The castle had been moving at such a pace she'd fainted. Rubbing her arm a little she sheepishly met his gaze, 'You used my name,' Her hair quivered all around her face.
'I thought it might shock you awake,' Malfoy avoided the glint of happiness in her eyes. 'Right. Screw policy.'
He put his arms under her legs and she wrapped hers around his neck so he could help her back into the chair. 'Are you sure you won't fall again?' he said before he moved away. No one else was around but he figured it was only so long till Potter and Weasel found out she'd been released.
Hermione tried not to breath while he was so close, I mean it was Malfoy, she didn't want to catch something. 'I won't fall.'
'I'm taking you back to the Hospital Wing,' Malfoy said beginning to turn back down the hallway they had come from.
'No, take me to my dorm, I'll sleep I promise,' it sounded such an odd conversation between the two of them, as though they cared. Malfoy was caught between a wall and a hard place; Voldemort for reasons unknown to him had decided he wanted her injured or dead? For the life of him he couldn't reconcile a world where Granger wasn't there to argue with.
Approaching the Gryffindor portrait they realised there was going to be some difficulty; the wheelchair was not going to fit through the portrait hole. The figure in the portrait door eyed them unhelpfully.
'You can read up all about how to charm it to expand tomorrow, but for now you need sleep,' she perked at the thought of books but looked ready to pass out. Malfoy came about to face her but paused; he had stepped over so many boundaries today he wasn't sure which ones were real.
'You're going to have to lift me, through there,' she said squirming on the inside. 'Maybe you could just knock and ask for Harry or Ron to help me.' Malfoy had been the perfect alibi for escaping the hospital wing but now faced with him wrapping his arms under her again, she just prayed he would knock.
The hospital wing wasn't warm like her bed, her books weren't there, and she couldn't cry and be assured no one would walk in on her.
'You don't want my help,' Malfoy said levelling that assessing gaze of his that said he'd thought of something to annoy her.
'Be brave Granger, you're a Gryffindor,' he tucked her legs over one arm and pulled her up against his chest, so they would fit. Malfoy's robe pressed against her face, the smell of parchment filling her nose. His arm held her waist firmly, she realised she trusted him not to drop her. Last week it would have crossed her mind more than a dozen times that he'd drop her just to see what noise it would make.
'Baubles,' Hermione said unable to do anything else. The portrait swung open and Draco tried to convince himself to forget what he'd just heard.
Bending his head he stepped over the threshold and tried not to drop her when she breathed on his neck. 'Relax,' he said in his most soothing voice. He stopped as the word escaped his mouth; several astounded Gryffindor faces stared back at him. Limp hands held cups and chess pieces, in shock at the sight no one would believe had occurred.
Hermione wished she could climb down and storm off, and release the hand that twitched for his wand against her stomach. Red and gold looked back at him in baffling quantity. The Slytherin rooms had elements of green but mostly the bare walls showed their characteristic coldness.
'Malfoy,' she whispered it, immensely uncomfortable under everyone's scrutiny, she couldn't imagine how uncomfortable he felt. 'The stairs, by the window.' A few glances landed on her and she might have noticed the pity if she hadn't been staring at Malfoy's jaw. The hate and abject fear of Slytherins was so thick in the air she was surprised he could see where to go.
Malfoy chuckled; she thought he couldn't handle himself in an enemy lair. He noted the sofa and thought of an amusing way to wind up Gryffindors in the future. Mounting the stairs and leaving the uncomfortable glances behind he realised where they were going. She reached out for her door handle and he stopped, as it swung open. He hadn't been in here before and he wasn't sure what he expected.
Spotting her bed out of all of them wasn't hard; there were more books than bed cover. 'I should have known that all I had to do to locate you Granger was follow the smell of Lignin.'
She blushed at the thought of Malfoy trying to find her, theirs were arguments that took place by happenstance, not previous planning.
Coming closer he spotted muggle photographs and gadgets he couldn't identify if his exams depended on it adorning the windowsill. The rain was starting up again.
'Erm Malfoy, my bed,' Hermione broke his perusal of her room reluctantly; it was highly amusing to watch him so enraptured by things he purportedly hated. Coming back to himself he walked over to the bed and rested her down.
'Thank you,' she said, shyness pervading any concentrated thought process. She had no walls here, no reason to shout or argue when he hadn't said anything narcissistic.
Waking up from fitful dreams a tear slipped down Hermione's cheek into her ear. She lay on her red and gold bed spread, thankful for not having fallen in her sleep. She didn't remember Malfoy leaving but she felt his absence now; she must have fallen asleep while he was looking at her things, how embarrassing.
Something glinted in the darkness beside her bed and she rolled her upper body to see, her wheelchair. He must have shrunk it and resized it in her room. Who was this Malfoy she'd encountered today?
Malfoy was thinking similar thoughts as he lay on top of his covers. Seeing her so human had baffled him and he'd been willing to help to keep her alive. She was so intelligent and sharp, always taking part in stupidly dangerous adventures with 'the other two' and today fainting; a week a go almost being killed, he ran a shaky hand over his face and sighed. What was he going to do?
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