Chapter 14

For Green-Eyed-Girl and Margaritama for waiting patiently for this chapter ;) only two characters in this one...

Meanwhile…

Draco could hear the distant sounds of the fight echoing up to resonate through the caves. He hoped it was a fight they were winning. For what felt like the millionth time he glanced back at Granger. She hadn't moved in five hours.

An hour later Draco was convinced that whatever had been out there was not going to be paying a visit to the caves. What worried him was that none of the others had shown up. Draco was wracked with indecision for the second time in 24 hours as he deliberated his position. Should he go and look for the others or should he stay with Granger?

On the one hand he couldn't care for Granger by himself, she needed to be admitted to St Mungo's and finding Harry was his best chance of coming up with a viable plan to find other wizards. Also, Draco had developed a grudging respect for Sam and although he could not yet articulate it to himself his mind was never far from Mel and her haunting eyes.

On the other hand he could hardly leave an unconscious Granger; not when there was an unidentified threat lurking close by. He also felt strangely protective over the pale, unmoving girl that lay on his mattress with her wayward brown locks strewn over his pillow. He had worked so hard to keep her alive…he couldn't give up now.

If only she would wake up. That would give him some room to maneuver. With a sigh he abandoned his post a few metres from where Granger was lying to feel her pulse again. Her throat was curiously delicate and for the first time Draco was aware of Granger's vulnerability. She always seemed so untouchable, and yet here she was, fighting for her life in a battle she was visibly losing.

*

Several hours later Draco was still maintaining his silent vigil, waiting for the slightest change in Granger's demeanor. Leaning over her he noticed a sheen of sweat along her brow. That hadn't been there five minutes ago. Something was changing…he hoped it was for the better.

Within minutes Granger's small body was wracked with shivers. She lay in a pale pallor, lips blue, shaking uncontrollably. Draco reached over to wrap his hands around the tops of her arms. Through her thin black jersey her skin was icy to his fingers. What the hell is going on?

In desperation Draco tried several different warming spells but none of them worked. At a loss he rolled up her sleeves and simply tried to hold her down again to still the shivering. After five panicked minutes he could feel a change though. The skin beneath his hands no longer felt like a block of ice. With a shaky laugh Draco realised that he had been so focused on trying to find magical remedies for her shivering that he had ignored the simplest solution: body heat.

But then it hit him. To warm Granger he would have to…he would have to…touch her. Frowning in distaste Draco immediately stood up and backed away from the shivering girl. He couldn't…he didn't want her to die but that was going too far.

Pacing back and forth Draco tried to avoid looking at her. He ran his hands through his hair again and again in his frustration. Out of habit he glanced at her appraisingly. Mistake. 'Bloody hell!' he exploded, 'Can you just stop lying there looking all broken and dying?! You killed my father! You made me kill my own father!' Draco realised she could not hear him but the flood gates had opened now, it was too late. 'You lie there expecting me to save you! You're a fucking Palgrave! Do you know what that means? For us? For the Wizarding word?! This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to be happy.' Draco paused, breathing deeply, 'Now I can't be happy because you are the Palgrave. You…you are the Palgrave.' Draco was almost in tears but his diatribe continued as he pointed an accusing finger at Hermione, 'It all makes sense now. If I had known…I might not have killed my father…if I had known about you! But…' Draco was quickly running out of steam, 'But you don't know what you are and you don't know what that means. You are going to ruin my life, but it is not in your control…it's your fate.' He finished bitterly, 'It's your fate to ruin me.'

As if in reply to Draco's soliloquy Hermione whimpered. Dropping to his knees Draco placed a hand against her clammy forehead. Her skin was still ice-cold but she had made a sound. It was the first positive sign he had seen since she had been hit with the curse.

He had finally made up his mind. With yet another deep sigh Draco crawled onto the mattress next to Granger's small form. He transfigured a rock to make a thick downy duvet which he pulled over the both of them. Gingerly he slipped his arm around her small middle to pull her closer. She was still a dead weight but her body seemed to mould instantly with his. Tucking her head under his chin and clutching his wand tightly, Draco allowed himself to drift into slumber for the first time since she had fallen.

*

When Draco woke again he woke to darkness. Was it night? The same night or a different one? He soon realised he was shivering. That must be why he had woken. Then he remembered Granger. Unwrapping his cold and aching arms from around her tiny frame he fluttered his fingers over her forehead. Her face was warm where it had been touching his skin but the rest of her was still freezing. No wonder he was shivering; he had been sleeping next to a block of ice!

Her face is warm where it was touching my skin… With a regretful sigh Draco realised what he had to do. But how to do it? Should he close his eyes? Ah fuck it, he thought, in for a knut in for a galleon.

Crawling off the mattress Draco stood and stretched his aching body. Fucking hell it gets cold up here at night, he huffed ruefully. Some Avada Absinthe would have gone down a treat at that moment, not only would it keep me warm but it might erase this shit from my memory, thought Draco as he eyed the shaking girl at his feet.

Gritting his teeth and with numb, fumbling fingers Draco managed to undo the buttons on his now rather tatty black dress shirt. Wincing at the cold he tugged off his vest before he began fumbling with the zipper on his trousers. Soon the man stood in only his socks and his boxers, his taut, lean muscles thrown into sharp, haunting relief by the moonlight that made its way into the cave.

Noticing the goose bumps that crept over his body Draco realised that although Granger was not reacting to his heating charms, the same could not be said for himself, and seconds later he was sighing in relief as his body was enveloped by a fiery warmth.

Now for the hard part. Dropping to his knees before the shaking girl Draco steeled his resolve. If he did not do this she could die, her breathing weakened by the hour and the shaking was getting worse. He never thought that he would be saving the girl that he considered his worst enemy, the girl that was a blight in his world, the girl that swam infuriatingly in his thoughts, always beating him, always one step ahead.

She whimpered again, bringing him back to his senses. Wasting no more time Draco pulled back the cover that he had hastily thrown over her. Carefully, gingerly, his shaking hands reached for the hem of her jumper. His hands were no longer shaking from the cold. He grasped the woolen border and slowly inched it up her stomach.

Her pale skin shone and he marveled at the flat planes of her stomach that led to the arabesque curve of her belly. Her skin looked so soft and delicate in the moonlight; it was almost luminescent and he was reminded again of her vulnerability. The infallible, fiery woman was no longer indestructible.

Pulling her jumper up further he gasped at the dark bruises that blossomed across her chest. Pressing gently with the tips of his fingers Draco could feel the tell-tale signs of broken ribs. She had said nothing about it although the pain must have been nearly unbearable. With a pang of guilt Draco remembered his reluctance to heal her…she must have prioritized her arm and chosen not to tell him or Harry about her ribs. Stupid, stoic girl. Vengeful pureblood wizard.

Swallowing his guilt Draco quickly healed the broken bones. He now slipped the jumper over the mounds of her breasts. He blinked in surprise at the realization that she was not wearing a bra. Looking away he slipped the jumper over her head and slipped her arms out of the sleeves as delicately as if he were undressing an infant. Next he peeled off her boots, shorts and finally stockings. He tried to ignore her shapely legs and her soft stomach as she lay clad in only her knickers.

Emitting a low growl from the back of his throat, Draco pulled the blanket over Hermione's almost naked body. Lying next to her on his back Draco studied the roof of the cave before slowly rolling onto his side. Tentatively he reached his arm across her stomach. The moment his naked skin touched hers he felt the oddest sensation, something akin to static electricity, pass between them. Hooking his arm on her side he rolled her so that she was facing him. Slipping his arms around her more fully now, he pulled her towards him and within seconds their bodies were pressed tightly together.

Tucking her head under his chin as before, Draco felt a sudden feeling of peace and determination wash over him. This delicate person needed him. She needed him and he was not going to let her die. He could not let her die. With a groan he held her tighter and brushed his lips across the top of her head before burying his face in the hair of the girl that had suddenly and unexpectedly become his world.