Please note - all mistakes are my own. I do not currently have a Beta/Alpha to help me correct my horrible grammar.

I do not own the characters created by JK Rowling, nor do I make any profit from this fanfiction.

This is all just fun for me.

Chapter Thirty - Seven

He wasn't sure how he made it to her Flat - everything had been a blur on the way over. It had taken a lot of his pride to allow the Veela to peek through but his desperation to get to her and his inability to locate her Flat when he wasn't familiar with London had him reaching for straws. He never gave up full control, but somehow in only a few moments - at least to him - he found himself standing outside her door. The terror had subsided significantly but he could still feel her pain, her agony radiating through him. It was tearing him to pieces with each step he took. Standing just outside her door, it was as if wave after wave crashed into him. The Veela whimpered from the force of it.

Draco knocked several times but she never answered. He could feel her magic locking him out when he tried the door. So many safeguards were erected. Spell after spell to keep others out - some he had never felt before when he'd been in her Flat the numerous times before. Sucking in one harsh breath, he glanced about to make sure there were no onlookers. Thankfully, because of the dark hours of the early morning when many were still sleeping, he was able to pull out his wand without any hesitation. Under his breath, eyes flickering up and down the halls every so often, he whispered the incantations to release her locks, her spells and to gain access. When he felt the magic give way, he twisted the knob on the door and slowly pressed through the little space he allowed for himself to get in.

Despite the need to find her, he took a few moments to replace the spells and protections. His voice was quiet as he quickly mumbled out the words. As the last whisper fell into the quiet space, he turned to see an empty living space. Everything was quiet, eerily so. His brows furrowed as he felt the Veela reaching out for her. With measured steps, he walked down the hall toward her bedroom. Worry ate at him though when Crookshanks didn't come to greet him. Just before he could make it past the first door in the hall, he heard a whimper - a sharp intake of breath - come from the bedroom. His hand fell to the cool metal knob, twisting it in his grasp before stepping in. The pain he felt bloomed in his chest like a lightning bolt crashing through him.

"Hermione," he murmured slowly, trying not to scare her as he walked forward. He could feel the cool air so he knew the shower had lost its heat long ago. If her chattering teeth were anything to go by, his heightened hearing told him she had long since froze inside the shower. Her hiccupped breath told him she had heard him but she didn't respond - her agony just mixed with shame instead. "Oh, love." Hands gripped into fists at his side as he fought with what to do - what the Veela wanted to do. All the Veela wanted was to grab her and fly away from here, bring her to somewhere safe. Instead he fell beside the shower, waiting for some sort of response - a command, a question - anything to tell him what she needed from him. Uncertainty had him watching the shadow of her through the shower curtain agony slicing through his body with every breath.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered on cracked words. His control snapped then as he heard the pain in her voice. He couldn't hold back. He slid the shower curtain back and crawled under the cold water spray behind her. She sat curled up under the onslaught of ice cold spray giving him enough room to sit with her and wrap her in his arms. With a whispered spell, the water soon warmed but her trembling didn't stop even as his arms folded around her, pulling her in tight. She started to cry in earnest, head dipping under his chin. Under the spray, his eyes could hardly see so he shut them tight and kissed the top of her head. The tips of her fingers clung to his forearm as she cried. His arms rubbed up and down her arms as he whispered words to her - what he was saying he had no idea.

Her words cut through the shower spray, quiet and shaky as she begins to reveal what happened. "Ron grabbed me today."

The Veela snarled but Malfoy kept his grip loose so as not to scare her though he grinded his teeth together.

"It shouldn't instill such a visceral reaction

After what felt like an eternity, and yet no time at all, he felt her shakes begin to subside. Her gasps of breath evened out and her body seemed to become lax in his grip. Very slowly, gentle with his touch, he leaned back to find her fast asleep. Keeping her upright on his chest, he pulled out his wand from his soaked trousers and turned the shower off. A few whispered drying spells and he felt slightly better though his clothing was still damp. With calculating eyes, he quickly swept over what he could see of her and found no wounds or bruises that he could see. Knowing she was not harmed helped to ease the beast within. With ease, and as much gentleness as he could provide, he lifted her in his arms slowly to keep from jostling her so he could get her out of the shower.

He took her out of the bathroom, eyes trained ahead to keep from staring at her naked body, and walked down the hallway. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the terror or the pain radiating from her. Just restful content poured out through her lax body. With the toe of his shoe, he pushed open her bedroom door and gently set her on the bed. Careful to keep his gaze averted from her bare body, he lifted the blanket draped across the foot of the bed - disturbing the sleeping creature who yowled angrily at him - and placed it over her. His eyes lingered though on the dark circles that now seemed to find a home underneath her eyes. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and gently ran the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered at his touch, making him back away a step. Sighing, he made to turn but halted in the doorway when he heard her quiet voice. His head tilted to look at her over his shoulder. Bleary, tired whiskey eyes stared over at him through half lids as her lips moved. "Stay," she murmured with exhaustion edging into every syllable. He could only nod at her request - fighting her was like fighting mother nature. It was useless.

Turning back to the room, he went to the side of the bed where he sat down. "Move over," he whispered to her as he slipped out of his shoes and pulled off his sweater. Casting one more drying charm to his still slightly damp clothes, he laid down beside her. In a span of a breath, she curled up alongside him, her fingers wrapping around his side as if he were the lifeline she needed to hold on to.

She was asleep in less than a minute as he shifted slightly so he could wrap the covers tighter around her. When his fingers brushed against her hair, she snuggled deeper into him. Her nose buried into his side as she slept on. With her body wrapped around his, fingers finding their way to the edge of his shirt to curl up and under for the skin of his abdomen. It wasn't long before the heat radiating from her started pulling him into the land of slumber as well. His eyelids drifted even as he tried to fight it, but sleep overtook him as well.

He wasn't sure what woke up, but as his eyes flickered open he found golden whiskey eyes watching him from across the bed. Her smile was tentative as she realized he was awake. With very slow, gentle movements he reached across and brushed a stray strand of curls from across her cheek behind her ear.

"Hi," she whispered with a more familiar smile which he couldn't help return with a small tilt of his lips as well. Part of him ached to lean forward and brush a kiss across her smile, encasing it forever in the moment, but the memory of her fear, her hysteria had him hesitating. With not many details to go on, he knew that he needed to wait her out - despite the impatience of the Veela who longed to grab her and drag her across the bed into the safety of their arms. And if Draco was being honest with himself, that's all he really longed to do too but he held off. Well, he also longed to go locate the redheaded twit that dared lay hands on her and chop off every knuckle one by one until he got to his palm but she took precedence. She always would.

With a very dry throat, he forced the words out through the scratchiness of sleep. "How are you, love?"

Her eyes flickered - her own memories interrupting their quiet, serene moment. The smile across her face dropped and worry seemed to hover behind haunted eyes. Her dark circles were not nearly as prominent but still lingered under the surface. His fingers dropped from her face to settle between them, palm up. Then he waited, watching her and gauging every micro expression that traveled - flickered across her face. From the furrowed brow, the misty eyes to the lip that settled between her teeth. Her eyes would glaze over as she found herself lost in thought and he would watch on, waiting. Not daring to move a muscle, he waited for her to open up to him because he could feel her need to, but the fear was in a tug of war with that need.

It seemed as if an eternity raged on before he saw her fingers slip out from under the blanket he had placed around her earlier. Slowly she drew closer to his palm until her finger tips traced up and down his fingers, around his palm - slowly moving across every exposed piece of skin. It tickled to the point he felt his fingers twitch a few times but he tried to remain as still as possible.

And he was rewarded when he heard her voice start to break up the quiet.

"I - I told you before I get nightmares. Sometimes they're about her, but they're also about when we got snatched. I feel them grabbing me, their hands wrapping around my arms, my wrists and it - it paralyzes everything in me." A shaky breath escaped through her lips as her fingers trembled above his open hand. "When Ron gets mad, he grabs. He's not purposely trying to be mean, but I realized when we were dating that he wouldn't stop, I - I couldn't live with it. Some words were passed that couldn't be taken back and that was the end of that."

"Did he grab you last night?"

She nodded, biting her lip as it trembled. The Veela raged like a caged being, furious in the span of two seconds but Draco kept his face neutral, listening intently. "He was trying to talk to me - he grabbed my wrist. Any normal person would do that and any normal person would stop but I-" She froze, eyes glazing over and her voice quieted so low that if he hadn't had the Veela's hearing he wasn't sure he'd have heard her. "I lost control of my magic. Of myself. I couldn't think, or see, or hear. All I could feel was -"

"Terror," he finished for her in the same hushed voice. Her eyes darted to him as she nodded slowly. "I felt it." He saw her open her mouth and he could see the apology forming on her tongue, but he shook his head, his fingers curling up to tickle at her palm instead. "Do not apologize." One curt nod and he lowered his eyes to their hands between them. "I still have nightmares too, and while they never quite seem to go away - I find…" He felt the heat reach his cheeks as he kept his gaze lowered. "I find that when I'm with you they seem to stay away - as sappy as that may be."

It was quiet - almost for a moment too long before she spoke up, "Me too."

"They get better with time, Hermione," he murmured into the quiet, letting his gaze slip up to her. It may not be right away, it may take years, but they will fade. You will overcome this."

"How can you be sure?" Her voice was so quiet, so little - her self doubt leaking in, her worries threatening to take over.

"Because you're the brightest witch I've ever met and I know you are also the strongest." He saw her denial - again an argument ready to slip through, and he leaned forward stopping her with a gentle brush of his lips against hers. "It will all be okay."

Just as he was about to slip back to his spot, he found her arms curling around his body, holding him closer to her. "Can we cuddle?"

He didn't answer - instead he just pulled her tighter into his arms and brushed a kiss against the top of her head as sleep pulled at them once more.

A/N: Unbeta'd as always. Take it or leave it.