Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize in the Harry Potter books.
Chapter XII: My Love…
Eyes darting cautiously from side to side, wand arm up and ready for defense, a tall willowy figure stealthily shifted from one shadow to another down the long hallway. Her blood pounding angrily in her ears in tune with the fierce beating of her heart. Five minutes ago she managed to convince herself she needed to get help… but the war inside her head didn't end there.
She tried to keep her head on what was to be done, not what may happen. Yup, that's working, she thought as innumerable consequences of what she was doing kept bounding up in her head. Well, there's the fact that even though she did get help Draco would inevitably burn up with curses for her defiance of orders and worse make her feel guilty, which he kind of did with amazing ease. That wouldn't be right. She was doing this for him! What right had he to blame her? She was, well, worried, she admitted to herself… ok a bit more than worried. Frustrated with herself and the way the war in her head was going, she rounded yet another corner.
Still unable to concentrate on the work at hand, she thought how Draco was the least of her worries. Of course, there was also Lucius and what he might do to her. And, she admitted, the fact that Draco would probably try to protect her and risk his life for her if she was found. Hermione sighed. It occurred to her how pessimistic she had become. It was funny how the thought of the proud muggle-born-hater coming to her aid would have seemed as ludicrous as Ron managing a comprehensible sentence at dinner hardly a week ago. She sighed in exasperation as she realized that her line of thought had managed to circle itself back to Draco.
Draco… the though of him brought a shudder down her spine, made her remember why the heck she was facing these consequences. She just couldn't turn her back on the one who stretched out his hand to help her when she needed it most. Or at least that's what she brainwashed herself into thinking, the real reason a shadow in her mind. A shadow she tried to ignore. A shadow threatening to knock her defenseless when it finally revealed itself. She, of course, tried to heal him, even trying some of the most complex healing charms she knew, as he no doubt had done himself before coming to her. She let out another pitiful sigh… Draco…
'For the last time, keep your head in the game,' she scolded herself, 'the very dangerous game.' Hermione kept walking until her own fear finally caught up with hear. Obligingly, she pressed her back on the wall, closed her eyes and summoned her courage and energy with the each deep breath she took. In with the good energy… out with the bad. In… Out. Repeating the process until the sound of quiet footsteps snapped her back to reality. Cursing, she decided to leave the place she had evidently stayed too long in.
She walked fast and after several turns noticed a being was following her. Deciding she's wasting time, with Draco's life on the line, she stopped and waited to face her pursuer.
Draco woke up with a start. Though his body was burning and his bruises were freezing, he sat up hurriedly, his senses all on alert.
"Mudblood." The silent whisper escaped his lips. "Mudblood!" Louder. Fear for her made him forget his corporal aches. Until standing up hastily made him remember it. Damn!
He decided to take a few seconds to collect himself. Rage overcame the cold calm from time to time but beneath it all his dread threatened to surface. Dread powered by something he couldn't quite place. Why was he worried anyway? It would be entirely her fault if she got caught. Disobedient mudblood! He should've been happy at the thought of damning her, leaving her to her fate. A burden off his shoulders. But why was it that what he was feeling was entirely different?
He tested his legs, placing a hand on the wall for support, and found that his condition had gotten worse. He could hardly feel his leg and saw the skin surrounding his cuts blue from cold. The bruises covering his body were no better. None of the spells he worked made a difference.
He hadn't managed to go to the elves for fear of not making it. The cat wouldn't die just yet, he thought then. It was evident his own injuries were greater. But now it seemed he had no choice but to try to reach them. He gathered himself up and started the excruciating task of finding them, and her.
Tilly sensed somebody near and decided to walk faster. When the person started moving he walked even more. Finally, he thought as the person stopped. Taking the turn on the corner, he realized he had come face to face with a wand tip. His relief instantly turned to fear and the thought of running drifted over his already panicking mind.
Yes run, he decided. But deciding was different from doing. A weak whimper escaped his throat as he realized his legs had turned to Jell-o. Pleading was easier to do than running anyway. He stared into a pair fierce chocolate brown eyes. Eyes which turned to surprise then confusion as he started babbling.
"No! Please help Tilly. Please help master!" he cried as he fell to his knees clutching Hermione's robes.
"Wait just a minute. What are you talking about?"
Managing a bit of confidence, Tilly stared into the eyes he had feared a few moments ago which were now full of concern. "Master Draco…" His sentence fell.
The color drained from Hermione's face. "No, you don't mean…" Tears threatened to pour from her clouded eyes.
" 'Twas Tilly's fault," he said, his voice racking with sobs. "Tilly couldn't help Master. Tilly left Master Draco on his back."
"NO! That's not true." Hermione's legs failed to support her. She fell to the floor weeping. Gathering herself, she decided to see for herself what had happened to Draco. Reaching out, she shook the elf who called himself Tilly. "Please," she said her voice breaking, "show me where he is."
The small elf's face hardened with determination. "Tilly will show you, lady. Master Draco in cave under statue's feet."
"Cave?" Despite the circumstances, Hermione couldn't hide the incredulity she felt from what she had just heard. "What the heck is Draco doing in a cave… under a statue's feet?"
"Master Draco was looking for a way, lady, to get out of Malfoy Manor. Tilly told him of way but big cat attack him. Tilly left to look for help when Tilly saw Master on his back."
The tragic face Hermione had turned to a feeling of mixed relief and stupidity. He was talking about before Draco returned to her! He might still be alive.
Tilly was pulling at her, babbling about going to the cave and helping Master Draco.
"No. Tilly, isn't it? Draco's in his room. We have to go there and get help for him."
Tilly's expression clouded with distrust. "But Master Draco in cave! Tilly must help him"
"No. Draco's in his room," Hermione insisted. "We have to go to him. Can you teleport us there?"
"Tilly not sure," he answered hesitantly. "Tilly must see place to poof there. Tilly never go to Master's room. Tilly cannot see place."
"Could you go get help then? Other house-elves. In the kitchen. There must be some of them there. Could you go find some medi-elves?"
"Tilly could see kitchen. Tilly could remember. Tilly goes there. Tilly could call Medes. Medes has strongest healing spells. Medes—"
"Ok then," Hermione cut him off before he could recite a novel. "Go get help. Please. Quickly."
After a very low bow, Tilly "poofed" himself to get the elder elf.
Hermione, giving no heed to caution, ran as fast as she could to go to Draco. After the last corner, she came face-to-face with him, a hand clutching the wall for support, his right leg near to useless.
He expected anger, even rage, not this. Relief he didn't think possible flooded Draco's emotions. With pride empowering him, he managed to stand upright without support, managed to forget the aches and pains his body was screaming, did not manage to keep himself from reaching out and dragging Hermione by the waist close to him and holding her against him.
Hermione's initial feeling of surprise turned to contentment. She was in his arms. Safe. How foolish it was to feel such comfort with him when it was supposed to be her turn in helping him out. But then, she couldn't think of anything else. The misconception of him… her own stupidity. The thought had almost made her go over the edge. And, she admitted to herself this time, it wasn't because he was her savior.
Pleasant warmth was beneath all that coldness. Oh my God. His condition had gotten worse. She measured the distance from where they were to Draco's doorway to across the hall. Shouldn't be too hard to help him walk all the way there. After all, he had the energy to walk all the way here by himself. She tried to pull herself away from him and found she'd underestimated his remaining power. "Let's get you to bed, Draco," she whispered.
"In a while, Hermione," he whispered back. The feeling of his cold breath on her ear made her shudder.
"I'm sorry," she said after a while.
"You damn should be," he replied quietly, gently rather than harshly. Finally, he released her, leaving Hermione with a quiet feeling of loss. When Draco started the trip to the room, she offered him her help by supporting his arm. He accepted it grudgingly, for no other reason than fear of staying too long in the hall and somebody finding them.
Hermione tucked Draco carefully into bed, the temporarily forgotten cough returning with a vengeance. When she'd made sure he was as comfortable as possible, she sat and contented herself with contemplation with her emotions, while Draco, still racking with fitful cough from time to time, stared at the ceiling.
What was she feeling? Of course, the inevitable million-dollar question. Was she falling for him? Damn, what a stupid thought. But she couldn't keep the memory of the scene in the hall from entering her mind, and the waves of emotion she felt while in his arms. More overwhelming than anything she'd ever felt for anyone. Hermione looked at Draco's pale face covered with frost and could almost see the smirk he would wear if he somehow found out what she was thinking. She looked away, just couldn't bear seeing him like that. "I hope Tilly would come through," she whispered to herself and was surprised when Draco answered.
"I'm sure he would. He found you, hadn't he?"
"You really should be sleeping, Draco."
"Do you do it on purpose?"
"What?"
"Do you act like my woman on purpose or have you finally been drawn by my charms?"
"Your woman?" Hermione asked incredulously.
Draco gave her a smirk, bordering on a real smile. "Maybe you haven't noticed, love, but you're starting to nag."
Hermione couldn't stop the color from rising to her face. 'Could he have read my thought? Impossible.' Instead she said defiantly, "you're swimming in shallow water, Draco."
"Cool it, love. You're turning an amazing color of red," he said, returning his gaze to the ceiling, else the straight face he was trying to preserve would crack.
"I'll cool it. If you stop calling me 'love'. " Hermione snapped, thinking that her heart might break her ribs if he continued it. How annoying he was!
Draco sneaked her another look and to his satisfaction, she'd turned a shade redder. "Can't you spare me some compassion? Don't you see you're distracting me from my ailment?"
Her retort went forgotten as a knock sounded on the door. "Master Draco, Medes is here to see you." Tilly. Hermione stood up to go to the door, opened it a crack to take a peek and seeing that it was truly them let them in.
"You should have heeded my warning, Master."
"It's alright, Medes. Draco said carelessly, without a trace of pain. He probably was a very good actor, Hermione thought, "Oh, I almost forgot, could you send someone to go to the cave and look at Stribog. He's hurt quite badly."
"I'll do it myself later."
"How about Draco, um, Medes?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Can you do anything about him?"
The old elf looked at her. "You do know that you're the reason he's hurt, don't you?"
"It's my fault, Medes," Draco interrupted coolly. "She didn't know anything about what I was doing."
"I know," Hermione replied quietly, "and I'm sorry. Please, he needs help immediately."
"I'll do what I can," she said, turning to Draco and evaluated his condition. "Snow Cat, huh? He probably won't die once I'm through with him, though his hardheadedness would probably do it for me one of these days."
Draco smiled at her. "I try, Medes."
"And almost succeeded this time, too," she shot back. "Now sit back and let me look at you."
Hermione sat quietly and studied the healing process. Finally, when it was over, Medes was taking her leave to look at Stribog. "You have to rest for a week," she advised.
"A day would probably be fine," Draco said with a shrug.
Knowing arguing with him was useless, the old elf turned to Hermione. "Try to keep him in bed for as long as you can. I'll leave Tilly to run errands for you." And with that she left.
"It's alright Tilly," he said. "We'll call you when we need you." The garden elf started to protest but Draco cut him off, giving him one of a pair of bells which he took from a drawer. "You know how it works. You'll know if we need you."
When at last he too left, Draco turned to Hermione. "Don't worry, love. I'll try not to give you any trouble." Oh, this is great, he thought as he watched her face return to its oh-so-dark shade of red. He was feeling better already. He gave her the most charming smile he could muster. "Now come here and give me a kiss to take away this damn headache."
Hermione bristled. "I can see through that mask of yours, Draco. You're trying to make me uncomfortable."
"Oh? And what makes you think that?" he said sitting smugly on the bed.
Annoyed, Hermione defiantly pushed him on the bed and straddled him, forgetting her quite unbecoming attire (um, Draco's shirt!). Placing her face as close to his as she could summon the courage to, she said with a voice deceptively sweet and accompanied with and equally deceptive smile: "You really should go to sleep, love. You wouldn't want me to cry me eyes out weeping for you, would you?"
Draco smiled coolly at her and, taking hold of her arms shifted so that they exchanged positions, Hermione tucked precariously beneath him. Lowering his head, a good span closer to her face than hers had been a while before, he smiled arrogantly at her and skimmed his face to her ear, a centimeter from her skin. Hermione trembled at the already warming breath caressing her cheek.
"It would break my heart, my love." Hermione heard the smile in his voice though she was too rigid to look at him. Her heartbeat was soaring. She was sure he could hear it. Damn him! Damn him to hell for making her feel this way! To him it was a game. He didn't know what it was doing to her. No matter. She'd already determined to keep her feelings buried within herself. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing what she felt, what she'd finally acknowledged, what she'd resolved of taking to her grave. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of mocking her, and hurting her, and breaking her.
He smelled her. Her hair, the innate scent of her skin. It intoxicated him. He couldn't have stayed close to her another second and keep his senses intact. He lifted his head and stared into those deep brown eyes of hers. Pain? His amusement instantly changed to confusion. Was he the one causing her pain? He tried to think of what he was to do next. "I'll go to sleep after I take a bath… my love."
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking her… he already had.
a/n: Comments, suggestions, anything—greatly appreciated. Whatever. Oh, except things I cannot do anything about like the pairing: Draco/Hermione. Can't do anything about it. And don't bother commenting about discrepancies with the Harry Potter books. This is a fanfiction after all. Thanks.
Acknowledgements: Makotojs, MidnightandMoonlight, dracosgurlchrissy, fluffys girl, and especially, I'm S.S.M. Thanks for the reviews.
