"HARRY LOOK OUT!" Ron cried as their feet touched down, his wand aimed at Draco's head. "Let her go you bastard!"
"Ron, stop!" Harry reached out and pulled his arm down, stepping between them. "He's on our side."
"HE'S A DEATHEATER! HIS FAMILY JUST TRIED TO KILL US! HE'S GOT HERMIONE!"
"But he didn't," Harry shook his head. "Dobby, is this Shell Cottage? Have we come to the right place? Are we safe? Dobby?"
He turned on the spot, looking for the elf, then gasped.
"DOBBY!" he dove forward to catch him as he fell, cradling him in his lap. "Dobby, no. HELP, WE NEED HELP! Hermione!"
Harry turned pleadingly towards her, praying that she would know what to do- Hermione always knew what to do- but she hung limply in Draco's arms, barely conscious and in no shape to offer any help.
As Harry cradled the dying house elf, Ron raised his wand towards Draco again, shouting at him to let Hermione go. From afar, Draco could see people running towards them and shouting for Harry and Ron. All he cared about, though, was Hermione.
She was standing, but only barely, Draco knew that if he let go of her she would crumple to the ground. Her head lolled from side to side and she had begun to mutter incoherently.
"Hermione," he dropped to his knees, carefully bringing her with him and pulling her into his lap. "Hermione, it's okay. You're safe now, I've got you. I'm so sorry, love. I'm so sorry."
Ron was still shouting at him, but he seemed miles away, all Draco could see was Hermione. He brushed the hair from her face carefully, stroked her cheek softly and pressed kisses to the top of her head, pleading with her to wake up, to say something, to give him some sort of sign that she wasn't about to die in his arms.
And then someone ran at him, shoving him backwards into the sand, making him lose his grip on her, sending Hermione to the ground. As he got to his feet, he saw someone crouching over her, and he charged. He didn't know where they were, he didn't know what was going on, he just knw that he had to help her.
"Get away from her!" he roared, launching himself at the crouched figure and wrenching them away from Hermione's prostrate form, before lifting her into his arms again and drawing his wand. "Don't touch her! Nobody touch her!"
He turned slowly, aiming his wand at each and every figure he saw, glaring menacingly. He didn't register their faces or anything else of consequence, all he knew was that they were trying to take her away from him- and he was never going to let that happen again.
"Draco," a soft, lilting voice drifted through the shouts, and a slight figure stepped forward.
Draco immediately turned his wand on them, holding Hermione to him even tighter.
"Draco, it's alright," Luna Lovegood said quietly. "It's alright, she's safe now."
She took another careful step towards him, her hands outstretched peacefully.
"This is a safehouse," she explained. "No one's going to hurt her. But Hermione needs help, she needs medical attention. You need to let us help her."
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Ron cried out furiously. "Luna, get away form him!"
"It's fine, Ronald," the blonde said airily, her eyes never leaving Draco's. "He's on our side."
"WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT?! HE'S A DEATHEATER!"
"No," Hermione rasped, drawing the attention of everone on the beach.
"Hermione," Draco let out a breath of relief. "Hermione, love, you're alright, I've got you now."
She nodded slowly and wrapped her hand in his shirt, as though she knew someone would try to take her away from him.
"Ron," she turned her head slowly, wincing in pain. "Ron, he's a member of the Order. He's on our side. He-"
Before she could say anything else, she fainted again, and a tall man with red hair and a scarred face stepped forward.
"We need to get her inside," he said sternly. "Ron, get out of the way."
"B-but-"
"Move!" the man shoved his shoulder and motioned towards the house. "Hermione needs healing."
Luna nodded encouragingly at Draco, "Go with Bill, he'll help you. I'll bring Harry in a few minutes."
When they got up to the house, a small seaside cottage, a blonde woman was waiting with a supply of potions and spellbooks.
"You'll know Fleur from school, I expect," the scarred man turned to Draco. "She was in the Triwizard Tournament."
Draco nodded, vaguely recognzing her as the competitor from Beauxbatons Academie.
"Put 'er down 'ere," Fleur told Draco, motioning towards the sofa. "Tell me what 'appened."
Draco was reluctant to let go of Hermione, but he set her down all the same, carefully brushing the hair from her face. When he tried to step away and give Fleur space to work, however, Hermione's fist tightened in his shirt and she let out a small gasp.
"Shh," Draco knelt beside her, stroking her cheek softly. "I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere."
"'Ermione," Fleur spoke softly, reaching out and taking the semi-conscious girl's free hand. "You are all right now, you are in Shell Cottage with Bill and I. We will take good care of you."
"Draco," Hermione murmured.
"He eez right 'ere," Fleur assured her. "He eez going to tell me what 'appened so I can 'eal you."
She turned and looked at Draco expectantly.
"She- she was tortured," he stuttered, unable to look away from Hermione's broken form. "Cursed."
"Wheech curses?" Fleur asked, reaching for one of her books.
"Crucio," Draco answered hollowly.
Fleur froze, her hand hovering listlessly over the stack of books.
"Oh," she squeaked, a fresh look of pity crossing her face.
"I- I tried to help," Draco explained quickly, shaking his head. "I couldn't stop her, but- but I tried to numb her. I don't know..."
His voice failed as his emotions caught up with him and he began to cry.
"Oh, Gods, what have I done?" he sobbed, pressing Hermione's palm to his lips. "What have I done? What have I done?"
Fleur could tell that she wouldn't be able to bring the poor boy in front of her any comfort, so she busied herself trying to heal Hermione's arm.
"How is she?" Ron asked rushing into the room.
"I zink she will be alright," Fleur sighed, finishing wrapping her arm. "Zis blade must 'ave been cursed, zough. I cannot 'eal it as well as I should be able to."
"Well I hope you're happy, Malfoy," her brother-in-law snarled.
"Ron, you should go help Harry," Luna entered the room. "He's digging a grave for Dobby and I think he'd appreciate the company."
"I think he'd like someone to tell me what the hell is going on and why you don't seem at all concerned about the fact that Draco Malfoy is sitting in my brother's house and acting like he's upset."
"Ron," Fleur put a calming hand on his arm. "Take a breath."
"No! Get away from her!" Ron surged forward, ripping Draco away from Hermione and throwing him to the ground.
"Ron!" Bill shouted, trying to get between them- unfortunately, he didn't move fast enough.
Once Draco was on the floor, Ron tackled him, pressing his knees against his chest and punching him in the face. Before anyone could intercede, both boys were rolling around the floor, beating each other half to death.
In a rushed attempt to get them away from each other, Bill raised his wand and sent the brawlers flying to opposite ends of the room.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" he shouted. "Ron, take a walk!"
"But-"
"NOW!"
His tone was so reminiscent of their mother that Ron swallowed his arguments and stormed from the room, slamming the back door loudly and startling Hermione back to consciousness.
"Draco," she whimpered.
"I'm here," he rushed back to her side. "I'm right here, love."
Herimione turned to look at him and tried her best to smile, then got a good look at him and gasped. "Draco, your face!"
"I'm okay," he shook his head quickly. "Don't worry about me. How are you? Are you in pain?"
"It's not too bad," she shook her head slowly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "I'm okay."
"You could have died," Draco swallowed a sob. "Merlin, Hermione-"
"But I didn't," she interrupted. "I'm fine."
"You can barely move," he shook his head sternly. "You're not okay."
"I will be," she promised. "I'll be okay. Isn't that what you said when the situation was reversed?"
This, at last, brought a smile to Draco's lips, as he remembered a night so many months ago when he had given Hermione the same assurances- the night after Harry Potter had almost killed .
"You need to rest," Fleur interrupted the couple. "Let's get you settled in ze guest room. Can you walk?"
"I think-"
"No," Draco stopped her before she could do more than sit up a few inches. "I'll carry you."
"Draco I-"
"I'm carrying you," he said with finality. "Come here."
He helped Hermione wrap her arms around his neck and gingerly lifted her off the sofa, cradling her against his chest.
"Zis way," Fleur led him up the stairs and into a small bedroom. "I'll bring up a sleeping potion for 'er. But first, I must check on 'Arry and ze ozers. Eef you need somezing, call."
She gave him one last encouraging smile, then left them alone.
Draco settled Hermione in bed as comfortably as he could and went to pull a chair over, but she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the bed beside her.
"Don't go," she whispered hoarsely.
"Never," Draco promised, sitting on the bed and pulling her into his side. "Never again."
She nodded slowly and rested her head on his shoulder, letting the pain and exhaustion take over.