A/N: Hello lovely people! I am back, though barely alive my memorial holiday was spent 4-wheeling in the mountains. Yikes. Anyways, here is the new chapter, I really am aiming for an update everyday, but life gets in the way, I will try my nest to stick to that, and if I can't I will let you know! And yes, I do know that Draco was not the one to call Dobby, and it was in fact Aberforth, but this is fiction and my story so for the sake of entertainment lets roll with the fact that he did, ok? I live for reviews so please leave them! Thank you and enjoy ;)

"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future." -Paul Lewis Boese

Day 3 of rescue

Every time he heard the rustle of her sodding book he ground his teeth, he was literally being driven mad by books! If he could die by boredom than this would do him in. How one could sit in silence for hours on in was completely and utterly lost to him, he used to view himself as a quite type when he wasn't off running his mouth, but he definitely couldn't fathom how one could be sane to just sit and stare at dark brown walls. Before he knew it, he let out a deep groan of frustration, causing his curly haired caretaker to jump from the chair and make the small leap to his bed.

"What's wrong?" Her brows knitted together as she feathered her hands above him, not sure where to place them, "does something hurt?" She looked up at him them, her golden eyes shimmering with what only he could assume was worry, it always caught him off guard when she treated him with compassion.

"Yes," he deadpanned, "my eyes for having to sit here and look at this god awful place." He tried to fold his arms but winced in pain from the movement, so he just let his hands fall to his sides in defeat. He dared a glance at her, and instead of the irritation for causing her to fuss over him for nothing, he saw relief? A flood of emotions swept over him, he felt out of sorts when she was close to him, he figured it was this ruddy place, and the lack ofd someone else to talk to that made him want to ask her things, about herself, and her reasonings behind her decisions.

"What did you mean when you said you owed me?" He blurted out, he had been thinking about non stop since she had said it, but it didn't mean he wanted to open himself up and ask her, apparently staying silent for so long made him want to blab his sodding mouth to the women.

Without asking, she edged herself on the side of the bed, facing him. He wanted to be uncomfortable with their closeness, but surprisingly wasn't. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts.

"I know you saved us," she looked directly at him, "well me," she tore her gaze away, "and I know you let Harry take those wands from you." Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Dobby saved you." He interjected solemnly as he inwardly grimaced at the memory, he wished he could scrub some things from his mind, more importantly the image of the girl in front of him withering and screaming in pain. It was sickly ironic it was in that moment he knew he didn't want any part of the Dark Lord.

He felt her stare again, and met her gaze, something in his chest uncontrollably squeezed and it made him swallow hard.

"I know it was you," she gently placed her hand on his, and suddenly it felt like it was on fire, he should yank it away and yell at her to keep her hands to herself, but for the love of Salazar he couldn't muster up the words, so he just let his hand burn under her touch.

"So to answer your question, this is why I'm doing this Draco." His chest tightened again when she spoke his given name. He needed to snap out of whatever in the bloody hell was happening to him. It had to be because he was in such close quarters with her. "And before you try and condemn yourself again, I know the history between us isn't wonderful," she slightly smiled and pulled her hand away from his, "and I'm not sure if I will ever be able to trust you," he scoffed at that, "no one asked you to, I know what I did, and I will live with it," he turned his head away from her, "leave it to a bleeding heart Gryffindor to explain why they could never forgive a snake like me." He heard the brunette sigh and shift her weight. "I do forgive you, idiot." Draco looked back at her sharply, he was about to make a biting comment but she started running her hand over his ribs, taking the breath out of his lungs and the fire out of his temper. She drew her wand, and whispered a spell he didn't know.

"Bugger," she glared down at his stomach that was lit up red, "I thought your ribs would heal properly, but that isn't the case, all the jerking around you do when you have your nightmares is probably what caused it." He flinched at the mention of his dreams, he didn't like being vulnerable in front of her, especially when he could hear the worry empty out of her voice. He figured not dwelling would help.

"So," he wanted to shrug but thought better of it, "you're a witch," he smirked, "or have you forgot?" He winked at her, causing a slight blush to form on her cheeks. Odd. "Just use magic to heal it." But before Draco even finished his sentence she was shaking her head vehemently back and forth. "It would be too dangerous, why do you think I have only been giving you small doses of skele-gro," that he had no idea, "when I got to you, your ribs already had started the healing process so therefore if I made them heal faster your ribs could set wrong and cause damage to your organs."

"Then what are you going to do?"

She bit her lip, and for some unimaginable reason his gaze zeroed in on it like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"Well," she let her lip go slowly as she looked at him, "I have to reset your rib, then I can give you a high does of the potion and control how your rib sets and it should be healed completely after twenty four hours of complete rest." He narrowed his gray eyes at her, she sounded nervous telling him, and there were only two reasons why she would be nervous, one, it could potentially kill him, or two, it would hurt like bloody hell. He assumed the latter.

"Reset? As in?" He arched his eyebrow at her, waiting for her response.

"As in I have to break your rib again so I can make sure it heals correctly."

He hated being right in that moment.

"I will sedate you though," Granger spoke quickly before he could agree or object to her idea, "I can't guarantee that it won't hurt, but I know it would help." He laid his head back on the pillow with a grimace plastered across his face, "Fine. Just make it quick." He didn't bother looking back up at her for the witches reaction, but he felt the bed lift slightly meaning she had gotten to her feet. His logic was if he could survive torture at the hands of his twisted aunt, then a re-broken rib wasn't going to be his undoing.

"You'll have to take this whole vial," she slowly handed Draco a clear potion, "It's—"

"Draught of living death," he cut her off, "yes, I know," he took the potion from her, "or did you conveniently forget I had higher marks than you in Potions class?" He smirked up at her glaring features, tipping the vial back to drink its contents. "Lets hope you brewed it correctly." The wizard said as he handed it back to her. "Oh, I didn't brew it," She spoke as she smiled down at him wickedly, though it was becoming hard for him to keep his eyes open, "Ron did." And that was the last thing he heard.