"Come on you little devil." Hermione whispered heatedly as she hunkered in the shadows of enormous grey boulders that littered the steep shoreline. The strange and dark creature she'd been chasing was lingering in the tree line, reappearing now after having vanished from her hunt for days.
She need only wait, though. It seemed the mysterious beast never veered far from the sea. It was costal. She'd have to remember to put that in her journal.
Now, however, she feared moving, remaining stone like. It was a skill she had perfected back at Hogwarts and used often during her travels. Still as a statue, she watched the sleek black horse-like animal weave in and out of the thick Norwegian tree line. Her heart pounded and she gripped her wand tighter as the beast unknowingly came closer to her hiding place.
There were very few times Hermione would condone the use of violence against a magical creature, but she was also very aware of the danger this particular one possessed. Its tendency for destruction for the sake of fun was known throughout the wizarding world, though not much else was. It was exactly why she wanted to find it and study its behaviors.
Moments stretched on, her single wild curl, the one damn strand of hair that would never stay in her bun, tickled her nose in the gentle sea breeze. The night was thick, the only light being that of the full moon as it glowed silver on the scene before her. She used all of her will power to not smooth the hair back or rub her nose.
Just when she was willing to risk death to ease the tickling sensation, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Something beside the Pooka was coming quickly towards the scene.
Panic had no place in her heart as her body became battle ready. The wand she had trusted so dutifully was raised and ready and the adrenaline she so loved pumped through her.
And when a second Pooka came crashing across the sands towards the first, Hermione realized what was happening. It was his mate! The newest specimen was a female. Flames of amber and gold flickered down its back, becoming its mane and tale. She grinned like a fool realizing she was the ONLY Witch or Wizard to witness a female of this species. It was a historic find!
One she may not be able to claim, seeing as the creatures had become aware of her position when she'd moved to defend herself.
But instead of attacking, as is historically thought, the pair threw back their shiny black heads and fled into the darkness of the trees.
She cursed under her breath, jumping over a large piece of white driftwood. Hermione could not let this discovery go. Not after searching weeks to find the lone beast, let alone a pair.
Her body was moving before she knew what was happening. The shadows of the night engulfed her as the forest became thicker. Branches slashed at her face, but she still chased the faint flames light as it wove through the underbrush.
Her breathing became ragged and she was positive her thick flannel blouse was torn to shreds. She was about to give up, if only to resume the chase another time, when she heard a man's scream.
Her body jerked as the sound crashed into her and she forced her booted feet to move faster as they pounded through the thick growth. Far ahead, she could see a clearing. In fact, as she got closer, it became clear that this was a farm stead, hidden among the hills and trees. The wooden fence that lined the property had a four foot opening, shattered pieces of the logs littered the ground.
Her mind was reeling. There, before her, a tall man was slowly stepping around the frightened Pookas. His hands were raised, and while it was still too dark for Hermione to see his face, the moonlight allowed her to witness his smooth movements.
He was trying to calm them, she realized, shocked.
Too bad she wouldn't discover if it would have worked. The noise she made after skidding to stop alerted the trio of her presence and the beasts were not pleased. Quicker than any animal she'd seen so far, the male raised itself on his hind legs and lashed out at the man. He dodged but was not fast enough. A razored hoof slashed down his thigh.
Hermione was ready with a stunning spell, still not willing to harm the beasts. But she too, managed to be too slow. The creatures were thundering towards her and she had only a moment to think.
"Lumos!" She screamed, closing her eyes against the brightness that came from her wand. She heard the whines of the creatures and after a moment, their retreating hoof beats echoing through the clearing.
Tentatively, she opened her eyes. The light was dulling quickly but with it she was able to locate the man. His body was slumped, muttered curses drifted towards her in the now still air.
She reached him in moments, skidding to the ground with a huff. She didn't care that he may be a muggle. It was her fault he was hurt and she'd do her best to help him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She repeated over and over again, not quite able to look him in the eyes, instead keeping her gaze concentrated in his thigh. Deep red blood was beginning to stain the heavy denim fabric. She leaned in, aware that the man had become so silent.
Hermione's hands were shaking slightly, but she had to see the wound. If it were excessively bad, she'd have to floo him to St. Mungos but if she could heal it here, she would much prefer to.
"Ok, okā¦" She held her breath and lifted the torn fabric. A large gash that started at his hip ran inwards, nearly 5 inches long, down his thigh. It looked grisly, some muscle tissue showing, but she sighed in relief. This she could handle. She had to do it once or twice on herself in the last few years.
"Sir, I'm going to fix this, Ok?" she whispered, finally able to lift her eyes. A pair of intense silver eyes stared back and something began to tickle the back of her brain. The moon was hiding behind the clouds now and her wand had finally gone dark. But his eyes were almost luminescentā¦
"Um, I can't fix this here. It's too dark." She stuttered, something about this situation had her feeling off. Maybe it was because he was so silent. Or more likely that his eyes were burning holes into her head. Her hands were still on him, one clutching the edge of the torn jean, the other holding his arm to support him. She would have pulled away if she didn't think he needed the support.
"Bloody Hell." He finally grunted. Her stomach knotted and she didn't know why. What in Merlins name was happening! He tried to stand, but was much too weak. The blood was seeping out faster than she thought. With the help of some carefully placed enchantments, she was able to lift him off the ground, and put an arm over her own slender shoulders. Her heart was pounding now. It was so similar to how it beat whenever she faced down a dangerous creature. A wounded, cornered, beast.
Her mind was so distracted, she nearly tripped, jarring the man's limp form. He cursed through gritted teeth making her flinch. He feebly pointed to the smaller of two cabin like shacks and thankfully it was no more than two dozen feet away. But the moving was slow. She didn't want to hurt him any further.
She kicked open the thin wooden door with one foot, taking out her wand and lighting the fireplace from across the room. Hermione wasn't a weak person, but this man was tall and while he looked on the thin side, he was packed tightly with dense muscles from labor. Her legs were nearly shaking from holding up his whole weight but still she managed to help him into the nearest chair, a large reclining one she thought was a tad out of place.
But now, with the warm glow of the fire lighting the room, she was able to actually see the face of the man she had hurt.
And she knew him.
"Draco!" She gasped, her wand instantly raised and ready.
The man however, didn't even flinch. His eyes became sullen and he turned his ashen face away from hers. Her name slipped from his lips, a sound that more resembled acceptance than the curse she'd expected.
And then he lost consciousness.
