Chapter Three: The touch of a stranger.
Hermione left Draco sleeping peacefully to return home, her parents were fighting again, a smash of a glass, a heavy thud. Hermione's hands clenched in tight fists, her Nails bit into her skin. She sat at her oak desk and flattened out a piece of parchment.
Who ever Finds this.
I couldn't take the sound of you fighting much longer, I've gone to stay with a friend, Please don't worry about me.
Hermione.
She left the short note on her pillow just in case her mother or father should discover she was gone. She grabbed some things together and disappeared with a pop.
She arrived back at the tree house with tears in her eyes. She tilt her head back and blinked them away, She couldn't breakdown right now, Draco needed her. Filled with a sense of purpose, she sat on the side of the camp bed where Draco lay. She smoothed a hand over his face and set the alarm to go off when his next potion was due. She dabbed his head and ran the cold cloth over his neck. She knew tonight was going to be vital, the decider on whether Draco lived or died.
Dipping back the cloth back into the water she knew what she had to do. She had to get Draco's thick Death eater robes off. Levitating him into the air, she very awkwardly removed the folds of cloth, then his trousers hoping and preying he wasn't going commando. She pealed away his shirt and checked the bandages. Looking at the torn blood stained shirt and robes. She put them aside to clean them and mend them later but now there was a more pressing task- making the other 6 vials of potion.
When all was done, cauldron, instruments and ingredients cleaned and put away. Hermione sat beside Draco and cleaned his shirt and robes then fix them. Hermione looked down at Draco's sickly pale face and felt a clench in her gut, what if she couldn't save him? that failure casting another shadow in Hermione's mind? She felt sick at the thought. She knelt beside him smoothing his hair. She fell asleep like that, one hand holding his and the other smoothing his hair. Her body lent against the camper bed.
The shrill insistent bleeping of the alarm brought Draco slowly to consciousness; he felt something moving soothingly over his hair. Pansy used to smooth his hair but this was softer, more….affectionate? Concerned? It was beyond Draco what it was but it felt strangely good. Beside him Hermione stirred and awoke. She sat up the left side of her face red from leaning on the bed, her hair wild. She pushed herself up to her feet releasing Draco's hand. Draco watched her weakly through half closed eyes, the moonlight played in her hair giving her a brilliant angelic halo, that image would stay with him until he died, Her touch, the touch of a stranger would live in his memory long after her death, he expected. As much as he hated Hermione Granger he found he didn't want to kill her, right now she was risking every thing to save him. She looked at him and offered a small smile and walked over to him, his next dose of potion in her hand. With out asking him she helped him sit up and helped him take his potion. That's when Draco noticed his lack of clothing.
"Merlin Granger you stripped me" He said, his voice would had been animated and shocked if he'd had the energy. Hermione chuckled seeing the funny side and from exhaustion.
"I left your underwear on… though I was wondering if you were going commando those trousers were tight" She half heatedly and exhaustedly teased any thing to lighten the morbid mood. "Your temperature was through the roof. I had to cool you down"
He gave a week nod; she dimly felt it against her neck. She put the Damp cloth back on his forehead and put the vile on the floor. Draco's eyes flicked and he fell asleep on Hermione's shoulder but stirred and his head landed heavily in her lap. She was too tired to wake him and to exhausted to move him, so she stay still.
In Draco's dream the beast prepared to slash at his defenseless body. He wriggled and wreathed then his eyes snapped open. A dream… it was only a dream. Hermione, still sleeping softly, must have sensed his distress and started smoothing his hair soothing him back too sleep, Silently he thanked the mudblood, his savior, for he had no doubt in his mind she would save him. Though just a stranger, a stranger with a soothing touch, her touch made every ting ok and let him relax, she made every thing seem so far away the only thing that mattered was here and now.
They did that every three hours until dawn and even then they slept longer than either of them would have on a normal day. Hermione made him breakfast, he was still very weak and still in pain. So she made her excuses and returned home. She found her note, untouched, she had been gone all night and no one had noticed. She showered and changed, then slipped down stairs, it was 11:30 am and her mum was still sprawled on the couch an empty whisky bottle clutched in her hand, remnants of what was once a beautiful crystal vase shattered into gleaming sharps, sparkling in the morning light. She repaired it and cleaned up the mess. She took the empty whiskey bottle from her mum and disposed of it. Tears ran steadily down her cheeks but she ignored them putting a blanket on her mother and tucking her in.
She knew her mother would soon wake, she needed to work quickly raiding the cupboard she found strong muggle pain killers and stuffed them in her pocket, she grabbed her lunch that her mother had probably made after the fight and wrote a note.
Mum,
Visiting a Friend. May not be back tonight.
With Love
Hermione
Hermione heard her mother get up and quickly Disapparated, not wanting her mother to see her tear stained cheeks, fearing that upon seeing her mother she would break down into hysterics. She took one look at Draco, propped up and looking at the cold sausage on the fork with distaste and the inevitable happened, Hermione Granger fell to her knee's and cried. Draco didn't know what to do so carefully he reached out and touched his shoulder. Her eyes were squeezed shut but she wrapped her arms around his neck and he smoothed her back, calming her.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked surprised at this sudden out burst and on his part genuinely curious. So Hermione sobbed on between the sobs and the gasps for breath she told him everything. How worried she was that Draco wouldn't survive, how she worried about her family's safety, how she worried that her parents would split, how she worried about Harry and Ron and those she loved.
After all Draco could understand some of that. He was in this situation because his family's safety was threatened. Draco didn't tell Hermione it would be ok, because with the future so uncertain, he didn't know it would be, so he just held her, her tears making the soft, pale skin of his shoulder wet. Her touch was still soft and unique. The heat of her breath brushing like a ghost across his skin disturbed Draco because it actually felt good. He smoothed her hair, he'd always imagined it being rough, being frizzy and all, but Hermione had changed since he'd seen her last, her hair was sleek and pretty and was as soft as the finest silk threads. The more contact they had with each other, the less they realized they knew. Draco remembered her soothing caress and Hermione could feel his comforting warmth shielding her from the coldness of the world. She had never told Harry and Ron that her parents fought but telling Draco had come naturally; she didn't know why and didn't want to either.
They stay there hugging each other letting the touch of a stranger become familiar. After all that's what life is about, the new replacing the old, the strange becoming familiar.