Chapter Four: Rescued

Draco heaved the big man off of Hermione and leaned over her. She appeared to be nearly unconscious. He could tell she was severely injured and that she needed help, so he very gently picked up her limp form and Apparated to his house, holding her in his arms.

He hurried to his bedroom and set her down carefully on the bed, then Apparated to St. Mungo's. He returned in short order with a Healer, who asked him to step outside so she could examine Hermione.

Draco waited in the kitchen, trying to figure out why he was so anxious for her. They weren't even friends! Scratch that, they were enemies! So why had he been so terrified that she was dead? Why was he so worried that she would die, if she wasn't dead already? Most importantly, why had he rescued her? She was a Mudblood! And why had she been all he could think about since he had seen her at the cemetery in Godric's Hollow?

After a few minutes, the Healer came back out. "She'll be all right," she said. "She had a lot of broken bones, and some internal bleeding. I did my best to repair everything, but there could have been more damage. If any more arises, come fetch me immediately."

"Wait, wait, come fetch you? How am I supposed to know whether she's more injured or not?" Draco asked. "You don't mean to say she has to stay here?"

"She needs to stay in bed for about a week, and Apparating is too dangerous. She'll have to stay here."

"What? No!" Draco protested. "Why can't we take her back to her house?"

"Where does she live?" the Healer asked, and when Draco was silent, she answered, "Well, since it seems you don't know where she lives, we can't very well take her anywhere else. She is not to get out of bed except to go to the bathroom. Make sure she gets food into her system when she wakes up; she'll be very weak, and very sore. Am I understood?"

Draco nodded helplessly. "Thank you."

The Healer inclined her head and Disapparated with a loud crack.

For the next few hours, Draco found himself checking on her often. She was either asleep or still unconscious. At one point, he reached out and touched her hand, then, realizing who this was, he pulled his hand back as quickly as he could, knowing that if she woke and found him touching her hand, she'd hex him faster than lightning.

Her wand, he realized. Since she hadn't been fighting the burly wizard with magic, he had to assume that the wizard had her wand. A quick search of her bag confirmed his theory, and he Apparated back to Knockturn Alley.

The burly wizard was stumbling to his feet, clearly having just woken up. In a flash, Draco grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. "You sick son of a bitch," he snarled quietly. "How dare you hurt an innocent woman? How dare you try to kill her? I should kill you right now with my bare hands."

"I'm sorry, man, I just lost it! It wasn't my fault, I didn't hurt her on purpose!" the wizard whimpered.

Draco's eyes widened at the sound of the oddly familiar voice. "Crabbe?"

Crabbe's eyes widened as well. "Malfoy?" he asked incredulously. "Good to see you, man!"

"No," Draco hissed quietly. "It's not. Hand over her wand, or I'll hex you."

"But Malfoy—"

"Now!" Draco snarled.

Crabbe pulled the wand from his pocket and handed it to Draco. Draco glared at Crabbe as he pocketed it.

"You're the one that Stunned me, aren't you?"

"Yes, and it's a good thing I did, otherwise she'd be dead." Draco's voice held nothing but cold fury as he stared at Crabbe, a menacing glint in his eyes.

"I can't believe this! You should be thanking me! Don't you know who that was?" Crabbe asked in a disbelieving voice.

"Yes, I do know who that was," said Draco. "It was Hermione Granger, and you almost killed her."

"Why do you care?" asked Crabbe. "You hate her!"

"Maybe, maybe not, but that still doesn't change the fact that she hasn't done a thing to you! Why in the hell would you try and hurt her?"

"She's a Mudblood," Crabbe snarled. "She's a piece of filth, she deserves to be hurt!"

"Don't you ever talk about her like that," said Draco in a low, deadly voice.

Crabbe stared at Draco. "I don't believe this."

"What?"

"You're in love with Granger! You're in love with a fucking Mudblood!" Crabbe roared with laughter.

"I'm not!" Draco snapped.

"Really? Then why did you stop me killing her?" Crabbe chuckled.

"Because, she doesn't deserve to be beaten to death just because she's a Muggle-born!"

"Yes she does! Seven years ago, you would have killed her without blinking; and now you're all about saving your life? Merlin, you even called her a Muggle-born, not a Mudblood!"

"You're a sick bastard, Crabbe," Draco said quietly. "I can't believe I ever hung round you at Hogwarts. I'm leaving, because if I stick around any longer, I'll kill you, and I'd rather not go to Azkaban, which is where you're going to end up after I report you, I'm pretty sure!"

"You don't have proof!"

"I have a Pensieve, and I have a memory of you pounding her until she was almost dead!" Draco snarled. "That'll be good enough for the Wizengamot!" Without another word, he spun on the spot and Disapparated.

Hermione awoke with a jolt, wincing as the movement pulled at her sore muscles. She stretched carefully, yawning. Then she sat bold upright, yelping as the movement set off several pains all over her body. Where was she? She didn't recognize this room. The last thing she remembered was being attacked by that man in Knockturn Alley.

But that wasn't the last thing she remembered, she thought suddenly. She remembered a tall, lean figure standing over her, then picking her up, after whoever it was had Stunned her attacker. Her heart began to race; who had it been? Had she been kidnapped by her rescuer?

She heard a door open and shut, and her heart began racing. For all she knew, she had been kidnapped, and was going to be murdered in a matter of seconds. She searched frantically for her wand, but remembered that the wizard had Disarmed her, and had left her defenseless.

Slowly, the doorknob turned, and she began shaking as it opened slowly.

Draco Malfoy poked his head in. "Oh, you're awake," he said.

"Mal—what the hell happened to me? Where am I, and why are you here?"

"You were attacked in Knockturn Alley, you're in my house, and I'm here because I live here."

"Okay, but why? Why am I here? Why am I not at my house recovering?"

"Because I'm the one that found you, and I don't know where you live. You have to stay here for a week."

"Remind me again why I should listen to you?"

"You don't have to listen to me, though you should, since I'm the one that saved your life, but you do have to listen to the Healer, who says you need to stay in bed for a week."

Hermione was quiet. Finally, she asked, "Where's my wand?"

"I just went to get it," he replied, tossing it to her. "He still had it."

Her heart started pounding. "Who was it?"

"Crabbe."

Her eyes widened. "Crabbe? Then why did you Stun him?"

"Because he was hurting you."

"So? You've hexed me before!"

"Yes, but I didn't mean to. If you're referring to when I gave you fangs in fourth year, I've got news for you—I was aiming for Potty, and you were in the way."

She was quiet again. "I still don't understand."

"What?"

"Why did you save me?"

"Because, it's not right for a man to hurt a woman. Yes, we're in modern times, and yes, there are plenty of assholes who beat their wives and girlfriends senseless, but I was raised with old-fashioned beliefs. I was taught to respect and never hurt a woman. I never have, and hope I never have to."

"Oh."

There were a few moments' awkward silence. Draco, remembering the Healer's words, asked, "Erm, would you like some soup and a sandwich?"

"That would be nice. I can make it, I don't want you to go to any trouble."

"You lie down!" he ordered as she swung her legs off the bed. "The Healer said you have to stay in bed. It's not going to take me very long, so just stay put!" He stalked off to the kitchen.

Hermione grinned to herself. The last time someone had spoken to her like that was when she had gotten in trouble for accidentally turning her mother's cat into a tea cozy at age twelve. She imagined that was how Draco would address his children later in life when they misbehaved. She smiled at the thought. They would be pale, with white-blonde hair and pale gray eyes like their father.

After a few seconds' speculation, she shook her head. Why was she thinking about what his children would look like? She was being absurd! The sooner she healed and was able to leave, the better.