The next month, George had sent everyone an owl stating that he didn't need them any longer to test the game. Ginny had been disgruntled that they weren't able to have anymore "friendly competition", which Ron responded with a snort and implied that she had only wanted to continue winning.

Ginny threw a dinner roll at his head.

When Harry suggested they still meet up to play other games or even a wholesome meal between them all, Ginny accused him of being a pansy that didn't want to win. Harry, at a loss for words, returned to his meatloaf silently. Everyone knew how competitive Ginny was, but George's game had brought out the worst in her. Once she found something she excelled at, she didn't want to let it go. Her and Ron had argued throughout dinner, the evening ending with the spouses dragging them through Hermione's front door.

"Such a lovely meal, Hermione. Thanks so much for having us," Harry said brightly with a rambling Ginny draped over his shoulder.

Hermione picked up Ginny's shoe that had fallen on the floor and placed it back on her dangling foot. "I'm happy you were all able to make it," Hermione replied. She didn't respond to his comment about the meal. Let him believe she had cooked something edible when she had simply purchased it from the grocery store.

"Let's just hope these two can keep it civil next time."

Sarah chuckled from the doorway. "Doubtful. But I love the optimism."

Hermione laughed and bid everyone farewell, the door clicking shut behind them.

The evening had started out well enough, the two couples coming over for dinner in celebration of Harry's promotion. Everyone had been chatting about new events in their lives when the owl showed up. Looking back it had been a good thing Hermione hadn't invited George or she was sure Ginny would've throttled him through the wall. Ginny had enjoyed the game much more than anyone had anticipated. Ron, his big mouth and his own red headed fury didn't help much either. He taunted that the Potters were only in it to win.

Which was half true— Ginny was mainly in it to bring home a win.

Hermione flicked her wand to the table, directing her dishes to wash themselves. Normally she preferred to wash the dishes by hand, but the meal had worn her out— so magic cleaning it was. The constant bickering between the two siblings caused a small headache to build behind her forehead. How Molly made it through their entire lives listening to that dribble was a mystery.

She had just sank into her sofa cushions when her fireplace flared to life and a familiar blond head emerged from the flames.

Even with the warning from the flames, Hermione still jumped in her seat.

"Oh good, you're up," The head stated.

"Of course I'm up. It's only eight," she replied, glancing at the clock above the mantel to confirm the time.

"I've had a particularly rotten day, mind if I pop by?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. But if this is a reoccurring thing, I think you might need to find a better job. I can't always improve your moods for you."

There was a slight pause. "Note taken. I'll be over in a moment." The head disappeared and the fire puttered out.

Just as Hermione was readjusting herself to make room for her guest, the fire burst to life again, this time a full figure stepped from the flames.

Once he stepped into the dim lamp light, Hermione got a full look at Malfoy and what she saw made her gasp. His clothes were torn and filthy, the hem of his robes looked to be burned and the hole on his chest was caked in blood. Not to mention the blood and dirt across his face.

"Howdy, Granger," He grunted, tumbling into the wall beside him.

Hermione leaped from the couch to grab his arm before he slid to the floor. "Malfoy! What on Earth happened to you?!"

"Just a bit of a scuffle." He winced as her hand grazed his elbow. "Looks worse than it is."

"Like hell it does. Let's get you seated shall we?" With no help from the bulky wizard, she practically tossed him onto the nearby chair.

"Granger, I swear I'm fine. I came to just mellow out a touch." He grunted when his back touched the cushion.

"Malfoy, you look like someone threw you off the roof and then ran you over with a lawn mower." He furrowed his brows in confusion, but she cut him off before he could ask what a lawn mower was. "Shut up and let me fix you." Without waiting for a reply, she ran to the kitchen to get a cup of water. She thrust the glass into his hand with a gruff, "drink", before she took off to the bathroom.

Now with arms loaded up with supplies, she sat on the coffee table to assess the damage.

Thankfully Malfoy had listened and finished the drink just as she sat down. She took the cup from his hands and placed it behind her. Then she began the tedious work of removing his robes from his wounds.

She used a gentle Diffindo to slice the fabric from his skin. As it was peeled away, the previously clotted wounds began to seep again. Working slowly, twenty minutes passed before she was finally able to remove the outer robes from his shoulders. And another thirty minutes before his shirt was tossed to the pile. What she saw underneath made her eyes burn suddenly with grief for the blond.

It looked as though someone had mutilated him. The skin on his chest was in ribbons, his arms burned down the length of them. And his neck had what looked like… scratch marks?

Unconsciously her hand reached out to touch the wounds, but she caught herself before making contact, her hand stopping short of his skin.

"Malfoy, wha…? What… what happened to you?" Her eyes roved across his body. The tears she fought so hard to hold back began to fall unwittingly.

"Granger," Malfoy tried to interrupt her rambling tears, but his attempts went unnoticed. "Granger," he tried again a bit louder. Still nothing. He tried again, much louder. "Hermione." He gripped her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. The intensity in his eyes forced her to stop her blubbering and pay attention.

"Hermione, I will be okay. But first things first I need a blood replenisher before you can patch me up. Otherwise you'll be forced to roll around my unconscious body if I pass out from blood loss."

The authority in his voice calmed her slightly. Right. She could do this. All she had to do was push her feelings to the wayside enough for her to treat him.

She could do this.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Strong fingers gripped hers tightly and squeezed.

"It'll be alright," Malfoy whispered.

Hermione opened her eyes and met his, noting that his face was paling significantly. She had to buck up and be strong enough for the both of him before he passed out.

"Right." She grabbed the potion from her bag and thrust it to his lips. Malfoy swallowed without question and leaned his head back on the chair, the color already returning to his cheeks.

"Alright, Malfoy, let's take a look at those wounds."

Malfoy hissed through his teeth as she touched his already bruising shoulder. Judging by the gap under his skin, his shoulder seemed to be dislocated. She groaned slightly under her breath, quiet enough that he wouldn't hear her frustration. Healing severe wounds was not partially in her wheel house. She had learned the typical healing spells while she, Harry, and Ron were on the run years ago, but not anything to deal with broken bones, or like she needed now, to heal a dislocated shoulder. She told Malfoy so and he just grunted in response.

"You're not going to like this, but I do know how to fix it the Muggle way," she muttered in warning.

"Okay then just do it, Granger."

"It's going to hurt. A lot."

"Can't hurt worse than it already does." He grabbed his tattered shirt from the floor and shoved it in his mouth. "Ha uh ger ten," his barely indiscernible words came through the fabric.

Hermione took that to mean he was ready. As quickly as she could, so as to not delay the moment any longer, she put pressure on his shoulder and yanked his injured arm forward. His muffled yell made her wish she hadn't been the one to do that. His breath came out in quick spurts while he recovered from the swift onslaught of pain. She took the opportunity of his distraction to hastily heal the wounds she could reach on his front side.

Once his breathing evened out and the ratted shirt was once again disposed of did she direct him to turn around. She recoiled at the sight of his back. Criss-crossed claw marks tore at his skin, some of the grooves revealing bone under the skin.

Hermione brought her hand up to her mouth in shock. "Malfoy…"

"Granger, just— just heal it and then you can ask all the questions you want." His demand left no room to argue.

She pulled a vial from her bag and placed two drops of Dittany in every mark. Malfoy flinched in discomfort as the potion worked it's magic, emitting tiny puffs of smoke as it worked. Then she waved her wand muttering the healing spells under her breath, watching the skin slowly knit itself back together. The deepest injuries didn't heal properly, leaving raised scars in their wake. He could drape a cloth dipped in a scar reducing potion later if he wanted. Knowing him, he would probably claim that witches loved scars and he was bound to keep them.

She patted his shoulder blade to indicate she was finished with her work. He turned back into the chair and laid his head back. Hermione mumbled she would fetch him some pain potion and he nodded without argument, closing his eyes and sinking further into the cushions.

Forcing a pain potion and another glass of water down his throat put Malfoy at ease. He started nodding off moments later, only to be awoken by Hermione's bombardment of questions.

"It was a pack of werewolves up in the mountains," he slurred.

"Why in the fuck were you out in the mountains around werewolves on a full moon?" Hermione was already drafting the strongly worded letter she would be sending to the Ministry the following morning.

"Didn't know it was a full moon— got the calendar mixed up— just went to talk to them." Malfoy was answering her questions but they were coming out in mumbled spurts as he fought to stay awake.

"Why—?"

"Reports of attacks from a nearby village. We found location— bloody newbie mixed up the calendar— I made out the worst."

Forget the strongly worded letter, Hermione was going to make a personal visit to the Auror department herself and let them all hear it.

"You're really cute when you're angry," he whispered so quietly she might have imagined it. But glancing up at him she could pin point a tiny dimple on the corner of his grinning mouth.

"You're really high," she replied smartly.

He pursed his lips and squinted at her. "So grouchy." Always the jester this one. "Gonna beat up the Ministry for me?"

Hermione frowned at him. "Someone should."

"How lucky am I to have my own personal knight in shining army to go to battle for me? You really are my hero, Herm."

"Absolutely do not call me that."

"Whatever you say, petit lion."

She turned her head to scrutinize her bookshelf. Goofy, high Malfoy was a new experience for her— she wasn't totally sure how to handle it.

Small snores began emanating from the armchair. Good— asleep Malfoy she could deal with. She took this time to observe the pale wizard before her. The color was still slowly coming back to his features, the wounds on his body now healed, but red from the damage done. His arm curled to his chest to take the pressure off his now healing shoulder and his face still covered in blood. She casted a silent Scourgify before nudging him awake.

"Come on, Malfoy. Let's get you to a bed so you can sleep this all off." She tried heaving him up out of the chair with absolutely zero help from the bulky man. After her third try of trying to get him to stand, she took pity on him and simply levitated him to her bed. Leaving a glass of water on the nightstand, along with additional pain potion if need be, she covered him with her quilt and quietly made her way to the door.

A whispered word stopped her. "Stay." She turned to find his eyes squinted open to her. "Please stay, Granger."

She contemplated the request for a moment. He was sore, healing, alone, and high on pain medication. How could she deny his quiet plea? Not giving it any more thought, she slipped into bed beside him.

When he sighed in relief and put his arm around her waist, she thought she could sleep the rest of her life like this. Unperturbed by her thoughts, she drifted into a peaceful slumber.

….

Sunshine streamed through the open window as butterflies danced across her skin. Hermione breathed in a cleansing breath as a breeze drifted in and ruffled her hair, tickling her nose. She slowly opened her eyes with a smile on her lips. She had never slept so well in her life.

"Good morning, sunshine," a gravely voice whispered in her ear.

With frozen limbs, she shifted her eyes to see who had spoken. Malfoy was leaning up on his elbow, fingers making small circles on her arm. He was gazing down at her with a tiny quirk of his lips.

Malfoy. Of course. Memories of the previous evening flooded back to her brain. She had completely forgotten about their previous encounter. She healed him up, put him in her bed and he insisted she stay with him. At the time she thought he just needed comfort in his time of need— now she couldn't be too sure.

"Ho— how are you feeling?" She tried to blame the fact that she had just woken up on the crack in her voice, not the handsome man in her bed tickling her skin.

"Better than I have in months." He kept up his torturous minute circles, his eyes downcast as he continued. "I had a beautiful mediwitch care for me and keep me company all night."

"Malfoy…"

"Thanks for fixing me up, Granger."

"Of course. I couldn't leave you bleeding on my rug." Malfoy chuckled at her blunt comment.

"I just really appreciate it."

Hermione closed her eyes to gather her courage and allowed herself to ask the question that had been bothering her since he stumbled out of her Floo. "Why did you come to me? Why didn't you see an actual Healer?"

He furrowed his brow. "I actually didn't even think to," he answered. "I was in pain and I only wanted to see you."

The breath caught in her throat. She glanced up to see his eyes now staring directly into hers. Did he…? Did he have feelings for her? Absolutely not. That's just absurd. Despite her inner denial, she couldn't look away from the hope gleaming in his grey eyes.

"M— me?" She choked out.

"Yes, you. You're all I ever want to see."

Hermione blinked at him. Apparently an evening being mauled by werewolves made him brave.

The two stared at each other for a few silent moments before Malfoy dared to break it. "Do you— do you ever think about it? Us?" He asked hesitantly.

Without thinking twice she breathed her answer. "Yes."

He slid his hand through her tangled hair, stopping to rest on the back of her neck. His thumb grazed the skin under her ear. "I've thought about you for months."

Feeling brave herself, Hermione reached her hand up and began tracing his lips with her fingertip. His lips parted, his warm breath tingling her hand.

He thought about her for months. Months! He had been just as affected as she during their time of getting to know each other. From being paired up in George's marriage game, to meeting up to practice questions, to hanging out platonically, and now laying side by side, ready to take this leap. Together.

After weeks of waiting for this moment, there was only one answer she could give.

"Me too."

His lips crashed to hers. She wasted no time pressing her lips back, moulding them to his. The hand on the back of her neck tightened as his other arm came around her waist, pressing her to him firmly. Her arms came around his neck on their own accord, a moan slipping from her lips automatically.

When his tongue touched her lip, she didn't hesitate to grant it access. Fingers drifted across skin, breathy sighs mixing between the pair. Malfoy shifted his weight and moved his body to cover hers. She took the moment to drift her hand down his back and paused. The tips of her fingers grazed the scars from the werewolves claws. Her eyes began to burn and her breath stuttered.

Malfoy realized she was no longer responding to his kisses and leaned back to peer at her face. "Granger, what's wrong? If this is too fast for you we can stop."

"It— it's not th—that," she hiccuped like a child trying to fight back tears. "I— I was so worried about you last night." A tear made it's way down her cheek, Malfoy's thumb coming up to wipe it away.

"Oh, darling it's alright. I'm alive and I'm fine."

"But what if you weren't?" She croaked.

Malfoy let out a sigh and leaned his forehead against hers. "Granger, my job isn't really the safest job out there. There will be times that I come back injured, or even end up in St. Mungo's."

Hermione nodded in understanding, but tears still streamed down her cheeks. "I get that, but it still doesn't feel great."

"It won't. But if you want this—us— you need to know that it will happen. And unfortunately until I get promoted to a higher position, it will happen frequently."

"I know. I want this, I do, but you can't expect me to hold it together every time you get hurt."

Malfoy chuckled and placed a chaste kiss between her brows. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"I might even go to battle for you a few times as well."

"Of course you will, love."

Wiping her face to rid any evidence of her fit, Hermione pressed her lips against his softly and turned on her side. Taking the hint, Malfoy moved behind her and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her back tight against his front.

"Could you just hold me for a bit?"

She felt his lips press into her hair before he whispered into her ear, "Always."