Title: I Believe In You
Author: YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)
Summary: In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again. Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.
Disclaimer: Did you know that there are only 800,000 doctors in the US, and 1.2 million lawyers in California alone? If I said that Harry Potter was actually mine, I really don't think that the odds would be on my side.
Chapter Three
And oh, how she did believe in Draco Malfoy. Even before he had changed, before she developed a crush on him, she believed in him. His strength of character and his intelligence, the very things she admired most about him, made it so.
Now, years later, now that he was missing, she still believed in him. She was certain that it was his intelligence and strength of character that was keeping him alive, wherever he was.
When Hermione was a little girl, she, like most other little girls, had secret wishes. She would wish that she would get a pony for Christmas, or that she would grow up to be tall, like her Mum. And even now, she had secret wishes. Her most fervent desire was to see Draco Malfoy alive, safe, and unharmed. She didn't even care if it was only for a moment or two. Just enough so that her doubts and fears would be laid to rest.
Walking back from the corner market, paper sack containing a dozen eggs in her hand, Hermione once again thought of her secret wish. Please, she prayed to whoever would listen, just let him be safe. Please let me see him safe and sound.
Hermione came upon an alleyway and was almost past it when she heard shuffling noises and a small whimper. She stopped, and turned down the alley, thinking she could give the poor stray dog or cat a bath and a warm place to stay. As she got closer, the shuffling shape turned out to be a person. Well, she'd still help him or her, just not in her flat.
The person in the shadows whimpered again, and Hermione took pity. "Don't be frightened. I'm a friend. I won't hurt you," she soothed.
When the figure scooted into the weak light thrown by the streetlamp outside of the alley, Hermione dropped the paper sack in shock, eggs forgotten. "Draco!"
There he was. The person she wanted to see most in the world was right there, in front of her. He shivered violently, and she could see that he was wearing only blue jeans, a light cotton shirt, and sneakers. His hair was long, tangled, and greasy, and he hadn't shaved in what appeared to be months. Three months, to be exact. He shivered again, and began to mumble. "No, Lucius… Mum… run away…."
Hermione began to cry, though she wasn't aware of it. She knelt, and draped her coat around his shoulders. Draco flinched at her touch. "Draco. It's Hermione, see? I won't hurt you – I'm your friend." He relaxed, but didn't look at her.
"You've got to come home with me. Please, Draco. You'll be safe and warm there, I promise." Hermione stood, and tugged on his hand. "Please, Draco?"
After much coaxing, Draco finally stood, and allowed Hermione to lead him out of the alleyway. It was a slow trip back to Hermione's flat. Draco shuffled, his head down, and Hermione cast worried glances at him every five steps.
Once they arrived at her flat, Hermione decided the best thing for him would be a shower. She led Draco into her bathroom and set out towels and a washcloth. "Go ahead and take a shower, Draco. I'll put some clean clothes outside the door for you, okay?" He didn't answer, but she figured he understood. She left and closed the door behind her.
Hermione paced around her flat, fretting about what she should do. It was clear that he was in shock from his parents' deaths. He also had been outdoors most, if not all of the time, so he was suffering from the cold, as well. He was probably also tired and hungry. Well, he will have to stay with me, she reasoned. I found him, and now he's my responsibility. Anyone else would treat him badly.
So, she made up the bed in her spare bedroom, put the kettle on, and turned up the heat in her flat. She set to work making sandwiches, but stopped when she noticed something. The water wasn't running, nor had it run since she left him in the bathroom.
Hermione walked over to the bathroom door and hesitated. To knock, or not to knock: that was the question. She put her ear to the door and listened. Nothing. She knocked softly, then a bit louder. "Draco?" No response. "Draco? Are you all right in there?" Still no response. She felt a twinge of fear. Maybe he had passed out. Maybe he hit his head. Maybe he was bleeding to death. Maybe –
Maybe you should just open the damn door already, she told herself.
Cautiously, Hermione opened the door. There stood Draco, exactly where she had left him, staring blankly at the rubber ducky picture that hung above the toilet. Touching his arm, she asked, "Do you need help?" He didn't move or speak, so she said, "Stay here. I'll be right back."
Hermione hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a pitcher. Then, she gathered up the clean sweats, socks, and boxers she had laid out. She hoped Ron wouldn't mind. She went back into the bathroom and closed the door, then began to run a bath.
Bath bubbles, bath bubbles, where are you? But then Hermione remembered. Damn Harry and Ron's flat for not having a bathtub, and damn Harry and his penchant for bubble baths. Oh, well. Think of Draco as, um, another patient. Yes! Don't think about how you fantasized about him at Hogwarts. Don't you dare!
Mental lecture finished, Hermione turned to Draco, rolled up her sleeves, and tried very hard not to blush. "Let's get you undressed, shall we?"
