Saviour
"Lily."
I groaned and rolled onto my side, shutting my eyes again at the bright sunlight. Instinctively, I put my mental barriers up. "Lily," his voice whispered again, this time gentler. I felt a hand take mine and his thumb stroked the back of my hand. I opened my eyes to a squinted to stare, amazed, at his long, pale hand, stroking my small one.
"Lord Verloren," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "I…" There was a sharp hiss of pain as my side burned. "I…I'm one of the Order, my L-Lord…"
"Don't worry about that just now, Lily." Again, the burning pain in my side; despite it, I sat up, struggling to fully open my eyes. When I succeeded, I turned to look at Lord Verloren. With his free hand, he gently reached out and pushed me back onto the bed. "You need to rest," he said, quietly but forcefully.
"What was it?" I asked, conceding defeat for the moment.
"One of the creatures that I'm attempting to harness for our campaign. However, they are not easily tamed, much more fickle than dementors…it is called a Shrakil. That one must have gotten away from me."
I lifted my hand to my face and felt it burning. I dearly hoped that while I had been unconscious he had not attempted to break into my thoughts. His hand closed over mine on my forehead, and, feeling the warmth there, he muttered some incantation; instantly, wherever his hand touched was cold.
"Thank you," I said gratefully.
"When I felt your pain through the connection, I Disapparated, and reappeared on the scene," he continued, ignoring my thanks. "There is only one spell that can control them, and now is not the time for you to learn it. Now, however, we must return you to the Order. They will grow worried, and worried people pry much too far for my liking." He leaned down and kissed my forehead softed, murmuring as he drew away, "You will wake up in your apartment. Most likely someone will be pounding on the door. Let them break it down; you should not move."
I nodded; he passed his fingers gently over my forehead and murmured an incantation, and I was out again, waiting to wake up.
"Granger!"
I struggled to open my eyes. There was panicked yelling outside my apartment; suddenly, the door was blown in with a sickening crash. The person who appeared almost instantaneously rushed to kneel at my side. I was on the floor, I realized, and flat on my back. When I was able to focus, I was looking up into the face of Draco Malfoy.
"Help me up," I said quietly, but firmly; he held out a hand to me, his face paler than ever before, and I grasped it, letting him haul me upright. I staggered a bit, but with his arm to hang onto, I was alright on my feet.
"What happened?" he asked, his pale grey eyes casting round the apartment, then focusing on my face. Lifting a trembling hand, he touched the cut that ran down the length of my cheek and whispered, "Intara." The cut heeled instantly as his fingers travelled along it.
"One of Verloren's creatures," I muttered, "got out of hand. They're hard to control."
I lifted my eyes to meet Malfoy's. There was concern there, try as he might to hide it, and his hand was still cupping my cheek. "It was a Shrakil," I remembered suddenly.
"A Shrakil?"
I could tell, immediately, that he had experience with the creature; his face paled even further. "What is it, Draco?" I asked, unaware that I'd used his first name.
"One of them got hold of my mother, once," he muttered. "Lord Voldemort could never control them. They're terrible creatures."
I nodded. "They are. We should get to Headquarters."
His eyes focused again on mine. "We should," he murmured. "They're worried to death about you."
I nodded grimly. "Let us go, then."
"You can't Apparate," he said, "You'll splinch yourself."
"What do you propose we do, then?" I asked angrily, glaring at him.
"Side-along," he said easefully. "Grab hold tight, now…"
Next thing I knew we were standing outside Headquarters; Ron burst out of the door just as we appeared and rushed to grab me up in a hug. "Hermione," he croaked in my ear, "we've been so worried…"
"I'm fine, Ron, but I have a story to tell," I replied quietly; I gave him one last squeeze and he let me go. Swiftly, I walked past them both and into Headquarters, leaving Malfoy and Ron staring after me.
After relating the story to the Order – and telling how Verloren had been the one to save me – Lupin broke in, saying, "It's obvious that he now trusts you."
"Obviously," I echoed. "Otherwise he wouldn't have bothered coming to rescue me, would he?"
After the meeting, however, Lupin pulled me aside. "Hermione, there may well be another reason he came to rescue you," he said softly. "Judging by the way he acted after you'd come round…it's quite possible that he's starting to get emotionally attached to you."
I stared up into Lupin's lined face. "How?" I countered. "His mistress is power."
"You may be changing that," he said quietly. "Just be prepared."
I nodded, and he swept out the door.
I was then submitted to an examination conducted by Snape, who made sure that Verloren had not tampered with my memory or my mind while I had been asleep. He hadn't. It seemed that, perhaps, Lupin was right.
Just as I went to leave Headquarters, though, a voice called from the front room, "Hermione…a word?"
I recognized the voice instantly and walked into the room. Draco Malfoy was laying on the couch, staring at the wall opposite him, his face still paler than ever. Without either of us saying a word, I laid down beside him; as his arms closed around me, my eyes closed, and I drifted, peacefully, off to sleep.