He knew Granger could withstand torture, and that nothing would ever compare to Bellatrix Lestrange. He knew very well that she was biting her lip to hold back her screams that would wake the castle. "Scream." He yelled at her. "Draw attention, get the professors out here." She stared at him with the same lifeless eyes he'd seen all these months ago in his own drawing room. "It doesn't make you any weaker."
The blood curdling scream that wrenched itself free shook the night. The knowledge that it was coming didn't make the scene in front of him any easier. No, it made his blood boil, made the killing curse come to the tip of his tongue and he knew right then the night would end in bloodshed. With her attacker dead, or him dead, whichever came first.
She writhed on the table, her body convulsing violently. "Goddammit." She spoke through gritted teeth. "Malfoy, wait."
"I'm not going to wait here for someone to curse you again." He roared. He'd already had his wand in hand when she'd been reaching for her own. Not that it had helped her then.
"I'm not saying that." She fumbled, bringing her knee as close to her chest as she could. Granger plucked her wand from the slip inside of her knee high boots and extended it to him. "Take this. Yours has a trace." He put his wand in her hand, curling her fingers around it. "I couldn't fight anyways. Not your typical crucio." He took a moment to take her in. She was right of course. Her jumper was torn, and blood spilled against the fabric. Her hair was sticking to her forehead. Even now, she was thinking ahead. It was more than he could say for himself.
He only had one thing in mind.
"Take her to the castle." Draco spoke directly to Theo. "Straight to the infirmary. Pansy, go straight to McGonagall. She needs to alert the aurors." Hermione's body shook as Theo scooped her into his arms. "Potter." He demanded, to receive a nod.
Potter followed him to towards the forest from where the curse had originated. "Be careful." Hermione shuddered. Draco took special care to avoid stepping on the fresh leaves. Granger's wand poised in his hand, he stepped past the trees first.
The sight they happened upon was not one he expected. Potter between him and the young boy that was on his knees, his wand tossed to the side. "Why did you attack Hermione?" Harry demanded, circling around his back.
Silence.
"Answer him." Draco knelt down in front of him. It took one look at his face to know, and somehow he was still thrown for a loop. "Finite Incantatem." A startled look crossed the younger boy's face, and then fear replaced it. The way Draco's lips curved was cruel, unforgiving. "Who put you under the Imperius Curse with orders to attack Hermione Granger?"
It all happened quickly with the boy who he'd learned was Harper, a fifth year who harbored a grudge against Hermione Granger. That much he knew, and it had to be why he was targeted originally. Harper had a reason to kill Granger, and who better to be blamed for her attack then a known rival?
Draco hauled him into Headmistress McGonagall's office by his collar, taking no time to set him down gently. The aurors in the room grimaced as Harper's half limp body tumbled to the floor, but did not breathe a word against Malfoy. Potter had already rushed for the infirmary, leaving Draco and all of his rage behind.
"I'm going to ask you another time." Draco kneeled in front of the boy, whose breathing was becoming more and more difficult. "Do you have any idea who used the Imperius Curse on you?"
"I want to talk to her."
Draco's fist connected with his jaw, with a sickening crunch and the male auror two feet from him nearly moved. Let him, Draco thought. "You don't get to make demands to me." He hissed. "Do you have any idea? No bullshit, or I'll break every bone in your body twice."
His eyes flew open in horror. "Mr. Malfoy, he's suffering the after effects of the curse. His memory could be hazy at best, or he may not remember at all." McGonagall spoke clearly.
"Was it Gregory Goyle?" Malfoy drilled. Harper said nothing. "Do you know?" He repeated softer this time.
"I can't remember very much, but I remember that I did not want to harm Miss Granger." He murmured. "I would like very much to apologize to her, not to threaten her."
"And I, for one, would like very much would like for her to survive the night." Harper wouldn't meet his eyes, and he traced the intricate swirls in the carpet with his finger. "She might die, you understand that?" His voice was low and gravelly. She could be saying her goodbyes, because she bloody would say them just in case the worst happen and he was here dealing with this wastrel.
"I'm so sorry."
"You're not sorry, but if Granger dies on me, I swear you will be." He hisses, standing to his feet and taking one last look at the room before letting the door slam shut behind him.
He sprinted to the infirmary. It had been maybe twenty minutes since she'd passed him her vine wand to ensure if it came to the worst, he wasn't going to Azkaban. It hadn't been long, but fuck, she'd looked like she'd been close to death by the lake already.
His entrance was loud as the door banged into the wall from how hard he'd shoved it. Theo planted himself in his path, grappling him by his shoulders. "Draco, you don't want to look right now."
His pale, washed out face told him everything. "Theo, is s-she,"
"No, but she could go either way." He tells him lowly and Draco takes note of Pansy's fingers encircling Hermione's ankles, effectively keeping them pinned. Granger is whimpering, and her hands are pushing on her stomach, trying hopelessly to apply pressure to the open wound.
"I'm going to murder whoever did this to her, slowly." He growled. Theo didn't ask who was in the forest, or why he hadn't already finished it. "She has to be alright, Theo."
"She's a fighter, you know that." He replied, but he didn't sound so convinced. "She has to be alright." Draco nods, watching as Pomfrey uses the same spell Snape used on him in sixth year after Potter's nasty curse.
"She can't go, not yet." He whispered and he left the room, setting off towards the Slytherin dungeons, giving into the urge to break someone.
He returned to the dorms after being denied entrance by the portrait and being hauled into McGonagall's office, on the receiving end of a strict lecture.
To say Granger was livid would be a massive understatement when he explained she was not attacked by the person who'd ordered it. "It was Goyle." She told him in the silence of the common room. Theo had taken a seat on the couch behind where she stood. She was wrapped in a cloak, her jewel green jumper beneath it stained with blood. She reiterated that she was perfectly fine, and that the wounds had close with the skillful help of Madame Pomfrey.
The torture curse had been modified into something he'd never seen before. Some sort of hybrid between the Cruciatus and Sectumsempra. It was the sort of Dark Magic Goyle couldn't have concocted himself, and that was chilling.
"Harper isn't talking right now." He heard himself say, wishing she'd leave it, but who was he to lie to her?
"Harper?" She screamed, knocking a vase from the bedside table. His eyes widened.
"Harper." He confirmed. "He says he won't talk to anyone but you."
"Then let's go. Now." She demanded.
"You're in no shape to go running off in the middle of the night." He told her. "You're covered in blood, and for fucks sake, you can barely walk, Granger." She glared at him. "If you try to leave this room, I will tie you to your bed myself. You can go in the morning."
"Is he alright?" Her voice trembled. "Was he injured in any way?"
"He's completely fine. He's with McGonagall. No one is going to hurt him before you can talk to him, I promise."
Her next words sent a chill down his spine. "No one is going to hurt him at all." She bit out. "If I'm being held prisoner, I'd prefer to be alone. Everyone," She turned around. "Get out." She handed the cloak off her back to Theo. She was covered in blood stains, from her pants to her shirt, and droplets on her boots.
From where he stood, he could make out dried blood around her finger nails, as if she'd attempted to hold a wound shut until it could be healed. Theo kissed the top of her head, giving Draco a pointed look. "Make sure you watch her. She will sneak out." Theo murmured. "Try to talk to her."
"She won't leave." He replied, ignoring his advice. "I should thank you for getting her into the castle so quickly."
"I wouldn't let anything happen to her if I could help it." Draco nodded. "You think it was Goyle?"
"I don't know yet, but I will find out." Theo was the last one to leave, the portrait locking securely behind him. "Granger," She stomped towards him without letting him continue and awkwardly slipped her arms around his waist. He rested his chin on top of her head, rubbing slow circles over her back. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Her voice was muffled against his chest. "I'm just relieved you came back. All I could think was that I should be fighting with you. All I could think was that your father was waiting in the Forbidden Forest."
"I thought so too." Her nails scraped against the fabric covering his back, clutching him tightly. "Quick thinking," He sounded amused as he looked down on her. Her hair was fucked six ways from Sunday, and that was just her hair. Granger looked as if she'd used a time turner and stepped back into the Battle of Hogwarts. The grim reminder made him tighten his arms around her, pretending not to notice her sigh of contentment. "When you gave me your wand."
She nodded. "It would have alerted the Ministry had you used an unforgivable curse with your own."
"Who says I would have?"
"You're forgetting I know you." She spoke softly, treading the subject lightly. "I may not know your favorite color, or your entire autobiography like Pansy claims." He chuckled at that. "But I do know how you fight, and I know you're protective. Harry is the disarming type. You're unrelenting."
"So I'm the murdering type?"
"No, you're the 'use any means to achieve their ends type.'" She grinned. "Turns out that damn hat knew who we were before we did."
"How did you know your wand wouldn't resist me?" Hermione had untangled herself from him, stepping backwards. She picked at her nails, biting down on her lip as she attempted to answer.
"I think we make a rather good team, and I assumed the same would go for my wand." She arched an eyebrow. "Was I wrong?"
"Have you ever been?" He countered. "You look like you've been drug through hell and back. Come on." She followed him out of curiosity, hesitating at the door when he stepped into the bathroom.
"Are you drawing a bath for me?" She asked, her nose crinkling. He nodded sharply, waving her wand to warm the water. He set it on the porcelain counter. "Oh." She mumbled, fishing his wand out from her boot. "Thank you for this." He wouldn't meet her eyes. The words sounded wrong in her mouth. He didn't find himself deserving any kind of thanks.
"Aside from the obvious, how was your birthday?" He asked anyways, hesitant to leave her for the smallest amount of times. Granger was a capable witch; if he didn't keep an eye on her she would find a way into the Slytherin dungeons at the four in the morning to smother Goyle in his sleep. She was not soft, nor was she even shook up about the night's' events.
She took her time answering before looking directly at him. "It was interesting. A bit confusing if I can be honest."
The moment could have gone either way, but he didn't move towards her. "Let me know if you need anything." She nodded without her disappointment showing on her face. He barely caught the grimace that twisted her lips when she tugged at the hem of her shirt.
"Could you bring Pansy to our room?" She whispered. "I can't, I can't." She struggled with her words, and he could see her breaking.
"Does it hurt too much?" She nodded swiftly. "I can help you. It's fine, Granger." He reassured her, knowing it must kill her inside to admit she needed help. "Just keep your knickers on." Her smirked at the delicious blush spreading across her face.
"It's nothing. You're just helping me out."
"It's nothing." He lied. As if seeing her stripped down to her underwear would help him at all. He'd tried to keep her at a distance, but he was tired of the constant effort of denying what he wanted. "Can't have you walking around like that." She rolled his eyes at his poor insult. "Can you put your arms over your head?"
She struggled, whimpering as she complied. He murmured that he would make it fast, his chest brushing against hers as he pulled her jumper over her head. He cursed under his breath, taking in the wounds she'd suffered from. Pomfrey had done a magnificent job, but she would need dittany to combat the scars.
But among the fresh wounds, there was a much older scar on her chest. "It was Dolohov in Godric's Hollow. He cursed me first. Harry, actually, but I moved in front of him."
"Don't you have a sense of self preservation?" He growled at her.
She shrugged out of habit. "He needed to kill Voldemort." She gasped a tiny, "Oh!" when his fingers brushed against her lower stomach as he helped push the fabric down her legs after slipping her boots off. She responded to his touch in all the ways she didn't realize. "I was just trying to keep us all alive."
He adjusted her to where the small of her back was pressed against the counter, so she could keep her balance. He unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. "There's dittany in my room you can use." She nodded, crossing her arms across her chest. She noticed the faded dark mark that marred his forearm, and said nothing. She'd never spoken about it herself, and it was a small mercy.
He realized she was attempting to cover herself, but all she did was push her breasts up. Draco swallowed. She looked better under the full light instead of covered by the water. He could have kicked himself in the past for not realizing what she'd possessed beneath her robes. Her knickers were simple cotton, but thanks to her, her breasts were practically about to spill out from her red bra.
He said nothing as he slipped one arm around her back and one under the back of her knees to move her into the bathtub. Water splashed over the sides as he lowered her until she was sitting.
"Is the water too hot?"
Hermione shook her head, letting her head loll to the side as she relaxed. "Feels fantastic." She murmured. "You don't have to do this for me, Draco. I can manage, really."
"Shut up. I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to." She nodded, and watched as he reached across the tub. Draco started with her shoulders first, scrubbing with gentle movements as not to hurt her anymore. She reached around with her right hand and pushed her hair to the side to give him access to her right shoulder once he finished.
Her body gave a little jerk as he eased the strap of her bra down. His smirk was firmly planted on his face as he ran the cloth over her bare skin, washing away blood that had dried some hours earlier. "Why didn't you shower sooner? Being covered in blood can't be comfortable."
"I refused to move until you returned. McGonagall called the Ministry, and the auror in charge decided I was safest in our dorm."
He scoffed. "They should have kept you in the infirmary with an attack like this." He pulled the tiny strap back into place. "Put your feet on the ledge and lift your legs." She slipped lower into the water while she did as he instructed.
He'd foolishly assumed the bubbles in the bath would cover her, and take away the tension he felt. Keeping her knickers on did nothing but leave nothing to his imagination. She could have stripped naked for all the difference it made. The cups of her bra clung to her breasts, her nipples had hardened through the thin material.
She caught him staring as he ran his hands over her legs, but she didn't cover her arms across her chest. No, Hermione propped herself up and leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, closing her eyes. There was trail from where blood had trickled down from her stomach and dried on the inner skin of her thigh.
He should have told her, let her wash the inside of her legs on her own. Instead he used his thumb to wipe the stain away. She didn't disappoint as a tiny moan slipped from between her lips and her body shuddered. His cock was already impossibly hard in his trousers, and all he could think was he needed to hear that sound again.
That he was near saying to hell with being careful with her, and tossing her onto his bed. Fantasies of the different ways he could fuck her senseless until she was a screaming mess went through his mind.
"Enjoy that much?" He asked in a husky voice, moving his hand away from her legs. She bit her lip hard, her eyes settled on his hand before coming back to his face.
"What happens if I say yes?"
Fuck him, he almost yanked her out of the water right then. "You're still drunk." He stated. She giggled. "Not to mention how injured you are." Fuck, he could have had her then, and she would have let him.
"You're saying that so you can sabotage yourself, but have it your way. I'll bring it up when I'm not injured, and when I'm sober." She winked at him.
"If you remember."
"I wouldn't be able to forget. Would you do me a favor and wash my hair? I can't reach my arms above my head. Besides, you wouldn't be able to shag me properly right now anyways. You'd be too gentle." He groaned, and glared at her.
He didn't say a word as he washed her stomach quickly, trying to escape as soon as possible. Feeling her bare skin beneath his fingertips, everywhere but where he desperately craved to, was an assault on his mind.
Draco grabbed the shampoo from the wall, successfully fumbling and knocking everything else onto the tile floor. Hermione sat up straight, crossing her legs beneath the water as he poured the shampoo into his hands. Breathy sighs fell from her mouth as he washed her hair, his fingers kneading against her scalp.
Hermione dunked her hair beneath the water to rinse out the soap while he snatched a towel. Despite having tried, she couldn't stand on her own. "It's fine." She grumbled. "You've done enough for me tonight." She smacked his hands away. "I'll manage."
"Stop being so goddamn stubborn." He growled, bending down and picking her straight out of the tub. She hadn't gained back the weight she'd lost during her time on the run, and she was too light in his arms. She grabbed the towel he'd draped over his shoulder and attempted to get away from him. "Do you always do the exact opposite of what you're told?"
"Put me down please." With a glare in her direction, he set her on her feet, wrapping the towel around her. "I appreciate what you did tonight." He didn't say a word as he stalked into his own bedroom and dug through the mahogany dresser.
"Here." He told her and threw a quidditch jersey at her. She raised one eyebrow as she looked at the garment dangling from her fingers. "You're sleeping in my room, by the way."
"Says who?" She replies.
"Me. I don't trust you to stay away from Goyle." Draco leans against the back of the couch, legs crossed at his ankles. "Also it would be nice to know you're safe in there."
"Harper was under the Imperius Curse, Malfoy. Whoever put him under it is hardly going to waltz into our dorm this late. It would be foolish."
"And it was foolish to attack you on Hogwarts grounds, but that still happened. The sooner you accept that you're not leaving my sight, the sooner you sleep."
She rubbed her temples, the towel slipping from her chest. "Fine." She exhaled the word. "That's logical, I suppose." Then a wicked smile settled on her mouth. "What isn't logical is giving me your quidditch shirt when I have Harry's in my room."
His eyes narrowed into a sharp glare when called him out. "Just wear the damn shirt, Granger. What does it matter?"
"If it doesn't matter I'll just grab the one in my room."
"Will you just humor me this time? Put my shirt on."
"I can't." No hiding the disappointment that crossed his face. "I mean I can't lift my arms, idiot. That didn't change from when I was in the bath to now." She took two strides and came to stand directly in front of her. He was eye level with her towel clad chest from his sitting position. "Just help me get it over my head and I can do the rest."
It wasn't an accident when he caused the towel to come undone and pool around her feet. She swallowed above him, not covering herself, only putting her hands on her hips. "I swear if you don't stop staring at me,"
"You swear what?" He smirked as he stood. Granger was certainly an average height for her age, but he towered over her. "Careful." He told her, and helped slip the shirt over her head. "Slytherin looks better on you than Gryffindor. She blushed. "Go to sleep. My password is the same." It was true. It came to end above her knees, and she looked so inviting standing there with her wet hair, and the shirt clinging to her.
"You're not going to sleep?" She asked.
He shook his head. "I'm going to keep watch, just in case." She nodded. "Scream if you need anything."
"Thank you for what you did tonight. I appreciate what you've done. You didn't have to help me and,"
"Granger," He cut her off, hooking a finger under her chin and bringing her face up to his. "We've established that I will always help you. I don't have to, but I want to. Go to sleep. There is dittany on my dresser."
Her lips had parted, and her fingers twitched towards his own. Her breathing was uneven and he watched the way her pupils expanded. "It goes both ways." She finally said. "I'll always be here to help you." She'd said something very similar in the ruins of the now repaired castle. Hermione leaned up and pressed her lips against his cheek. "Goodnight. Wake me up if you need to sleep. An auror can babysit me."
She disappeared through his bedroom door and he mulled over what he hadn't told her. He'd never trust anyone else to keep her safe. He couldn't, because they just didn't feel the same way he did.
For a blissful four hours, she'd slept in the bed, tangled among the sheets dreaming of Malfoy instead of reliving the atrocities she'd lived through already. Come to find out, she was affected by wet dreams more than psychological night terrors.
She pulled the sheet and blanket off of her body, stumbling to her feet to look at her reflection in the mirror on the dresser. She looked like hell. Her hair was tangled from not tying it up after the bath. Goosebumps popped up across her skin at just the memory. Had he hoped she'd forgotten? She could remember vividly how a wanton moan had betrayed her, and how his eyes hardened.
As if she could forget.
Besides her hair, and the haunting in her own eyes, she looked like she'd just spent her night doing something very different. Malfoy's shirt was too long on her, but she liked the rival colors on her.
She opened the door as quietly as she could, remembering it wasn't very long ago that she'd done this exact same thing. When Draco had carried her to sleep in his room instead, she'd snuck out as quietly as possible. But this time was different. He was awake, spinning his wand in between his fingers.
of him. Nevermind how her legs were bare underneath her shirt, or that she'd mistakenly left her bra in his room. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Granger."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" She deadpanned, marching up to him and standing right in front
"I blinked a few times." He replied. "Did you sleep well?"
"Did I-you are horrible!" She muttered. "You could have slept. I wouldn't have snuck out."
"That's incredibly hard to believe. You want me to believe you wouldn't have broken into the dungeons and made Goyle beg for mercy?"
Her eyes flashed something violent and she bent down to stare at him. "Don't make assumptions here, Malfoy. You're right. I wanted to storm down there and drown him in a toilet." He muffled a laugh. "I can't though. McGonagall chose me as Head Girl for a reason and it would be a betrayal to attack another student."
Draco tugged her by her hand and pulled her onto the couch in the post next to him. She tucked her legs beneath her, smoothing the shirt out over her upper thighs. "Harper can't remember. The magic is delicate is what the Head Auror said."
She shrugs. "That's okay; I don't want to endanger him." She replies. "We can figure this out without him."
"He still wants to talk to you, Granger." She froze, and stared at him, her jaw slacking. "He says it's to apologize, but honestly you can't trust him."
"It's the other way around. That boy cannot trust me, and if anyone should apologize, it's most definitely me."
"I'm not going to tell you how it's not your fault, because it is." He starts, running his fingers through his hair. "I am going to tell you that it was war, and while I feel for his loss, I'd much rather have you sitting in front of me right now-"
She cut him off. "That doesn't make it right. If he wants to speak with me, that's completely fine. He can find me. Until then, I want to eat and then I want to find who did this."
He nods. "Stay away from Goyle until you're healed." She huffed. "Are you not wearing a bra?" He asked her suddenly, his eyes dropping. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to get dressed." She stood from the couch and had just grasped the doorknob to her room when he called out.
"Keep the shirt."
If you could take a moment to review and tell me what you think, I'd be so thankful. This story is going to take a darker turn in a few chapters, detailing an ordeal Hermione suffered during the war in this fic.
I don't want to beg….but I'm going to. Please, please tell me what you think of the bathroom scene between Hermione and Draco.
Until next week!