The first thing that swum back into awareness for Hermione was the pounding headache, like her skull had nearly split at the back of her head. Next was the sharp, stabbing pains as she sucked in quick and shallow breaths, weakly coughing which immediately sent a white-hot sear through her side. She groaned, the pain bringing her back to herself enough for her to feel the hardwood beneath her crumpled body, and the cold wall at her back.
After a moment of confusion the memory of where she was (or at least, thought she must be) came rushing back to her and her heartbeat picked up from a gallop to a full sprint. Malfoy Manor; she had obviously come out of the wrong fireplace, but she had to be somewhere in the manor… right?
Not knowing how long she had been unconscious or what the real extent of her injuries were, Hermione took a moment to steel herself before she knows she will need to open her eyes and somehow try to find the others. The drumming of the headache makes the prospect all the more grim, but just as she's about to pry open her eyelids she hears an odd sound — almost like the crackle of electricity along an overloaded power line — and then the creak of a door somewhere to her left opening slowly.
Relief at having been found courses through her and she shifts her head in the direction of the sound, only to immediately hear a rumbled line of curse words followed by a voice that was distantly familiar, addressing her with an urgency that sent alarm running through her veins.
"Granger, don't open your eyes, okay? Whatever you do, don't open your eyes. I'm going to come get you."
"… Malfoy?" She winced at how raw her voice sounded, confusion cutting through her headache. Why couldn't she open her eyes?
"Yes, Granger. It's me. Just hold on another minute. Remember, eyes closed."
Hermione hears small creaks as she assumes Malfoy must be ducking back into the hall, because a moment later she hears his voice (deeper than she remembers it) bellow bodily;
"POTTER. THEO. SHE'S IN—" There's an abrupt pause, which puzzles Hermione as she keeps her eyes scrunched shut. "I FOUND HER IN HERE."
Swift, clipped footsteps cross the hardwood in her direction, their oddly long journey telling Hermione she must be in a larger space, and stop right in front of her.
"How bad is it? Do you think it's safe to move you?"
"I-I think I have a couple cracked ribs… maybe a slight concussion? But I'd rather wait for Harry, if you don—"
She heard a frustrated huff that definitely sparked memories from her school days right before Malfoy cut her off.
"I'm not waiting for Potter. Cross your arms over your chest."
"Wait Malfoy, don't you dar— HEY!"
Strong arms scooped beneath the crook of her knees and her back and she was hoisted against a broad, hard chest. A smell not unlike the air before a storm envelops her; an earthiness and slight salty tang that isn't unpleasant. But another sharp spike of pain snaps her back to where she is, who exactly has a hold of her, and Hermione suddenly finds herself angry at Malfoy's presumption.
"Malfoy, put me down! I said I wanted to wait for Harry, what is wrong with you?!"
"And I TOLD you, we are not waiting for Potter. You're injured, and we need to move you NOW, so could you please just shut up and keep your eyes closed for y—"
"And what is in here that you don't want me to see, hm? Or Harry to see, obviously? What fireplace did I come out of, the one that leads to the family horde of dark artifacts? I don't have to listen to you, Malfoy, I—"
"Granger, for once in your life could you please not be the most obstinate, stubborn woman—"
"Oh get BENT, Malfoy!"
Despite the pain rocketing through her sides, Hermione began to struggle against Malfoy's grip, and in defiance she opens her eyes to glare her anger directly into his face.
But as soon as she adjusted to the sudden flood of light she realized that she knew exactly where in Malfoy Manor she was. In fact, the ceiling she could see past Malfoy's head was burned into her memory, just like every other second she had ever spent in this room. It was carved into the very darkest places within her. She felt a scream trying to claw it's way up her throat, but it couldn't make it's way past all the soot. She let out a low groan instead.
Malfoy's features didn't even register to her as the room begins to spin, however she could hear the panic rising in his voice.
"Damnit Granger, I was trying to— okay, stay calm. The door is right here. We're almost there, you're almost out."
But Hermione was so far from calm she couldn't remember what it had ever felt like. Her body locked up with the pure terror invading every cell within her; oh god, she couldn't breathe — can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe chanting through her thoughts as she let out a strangled sound like an animal caught in a trap.
"Granger, look at me. Granger, I need you to look at me. Grang— bloody hell, HERMIONE."
Malfoy's firm command snapped her gaze from the decorated ceiling to his face right as they passed through the doorway, his slate colored eyes slightly wild in his grimacing features as he forcibly kicked the large wooden door closed behind them. He sits her with conscious care against the wood paneled wall of the hallway, obviously trying hard not to jostle her.
"Granger, look, you're having a panic attack. You need to breathe, or you're going to pass out again. We're going to breathe together, alright? Come on," He took her hand, both of his dwarfing hers, and placed it against his chest, near his heart. He held it there with one of his large ones, the other hand reaching back out to grasp her elbow as if to steady her. Then he began to take one deep, measured breath after another. "In and out, Granger, in and out. This will pass, you just need to breathe."
It took Hermione a few stuttered and broken attempts, and one horrid coughing fit that caused her to shudder with the pain of her ribs, but eventually she was able to start gulping air in time with the rise and fall of Malfoy's chest. After she was able to maintain that for a few moments the tension in her limbs started to drain, leaving her shaking where she was propped against the wall.
"Good, that's it. You're going to be alright, just keep breathing."
"H-Harry," Hermione sputtered the word out through tears she hadn't even realized were rolling down her cheeks. "Please, where is— I need—"
Harry and Ron both had been there for her in the dark times after the war, the three of them always dropping whatever they were doing and showing up when one of them lost their grip. Only the three of them truly knew everything they had gone through over the years, something that had always held them a bit apart from everyone else in their lives. This wasn't the first panic attack that had caught her unawares, and Harry had been there for his fair share of them.
Malfoy let go of her hand, dropping it back to her own lap as he pulled back away from her, then nodded.
"Wipsy." With a jolting crack a small female house elf, clad in a miniature but clean little dress, appeared beside Malfoy and inclined her head respectfully. She then realized that there was another person here as well and Hermione watched her eyes go wide as dinner plates, making her realize that she must look a right mess.
"Yes, Sir? You and uh.. Miss be needing me, Sir?"
"Whipsy, this is Ms. Granger whom I told you about, but right now we need Potter and Nott. I believe Potter was searching the guest wing, and Nott had taken the family wing. Fetch them please; Potter first. Then after that we are going to need medical supplies brought directly to Granger's room." He paused for a moment, eyes shifting back to Hermione. "And tea. Something soothing, if you will."
"Of course, Sir. Whipsy is finding them right away for you and then attending to everything else quick quick, Sir!" And with another loud crack the house elf was gone as quickly as she came. With the knowledge that Harry would soon be found Hermione was able to breathe just a little bit more, slumping back a little more bodily against the wall.
An awkward silence descended over the two of them, Draco rising to his feet and backing away another few paces, but still keeping his probing gaze trained on her in case she began to spiral again. Hermione tried to concentrate on drawing air in and then letting it out at a steady pace, but as the silence stretched on between them she found herself wanting to say something.
"Thank you for—"
"How did you even—"
Both of them burst out speaking at the same time, and Malfoy snapped his mouth shut. Hermione felt heat rising to her face as the first shred of embarrassment about what had just happened hit her all at once.
"I-I don't think I was in the right frame of mind for the floo. I couldn't stop thinking— I was having trouble—"
She stuttered as she tried to find the words and then fell quiet as Malfoy ran a hand down his face, his expression crumpling into a stressed understanding.
"That is… understandable. Granger, I am.. I am so—"
"HERMIONE!"
Harry had just taken the hall corner at a full run, his face flush as he skidded slightly on the wood before meeting the carpet runner and making the last dash to close the space between them.
"Bloody hell Hermione, you scared the piss out of me. What happened?! Are you okay— oi, you're BLEEDING!"
Harry crouched down and touched his fingers to the back of her left ear, coming away with his fingertips slightly bloodied. Hermione groaned, but her hand found her friend's sleeve and she clutched there, comfort flooding her in his familiar presence.
"The floo, something went wrong. I was going way too fast, and then it ejected me— it was… I came out—"
"It was the dining room."
Malfoy's voice was tight as he filled in the words she was having trouble getting out. Harry's eyes went wide with alarm, gaping first at Malfoy and then back to Hermione.
"Oh hell Hermione, that's awful. I'm so sorry. I should've known the floo was a bad idea, what th you and this place. I was the one who did the same thing first time I used the blasted thing. I'm sorry, I—"
They were interrupted once again by Nott's heavy footfalls announcing his arrival from the opposite direction from Harry had come, his face a drawn mix of worry and unease.
"Ms. Granger, are you alright?"
Hermione felt her flush deepen at the concern in Nott's voice, not used to seeing this level of well… anything painted in his features. She started to think how ridiculous this must be, how inconvenient to him for her not even be able to floo here properly, how completely unprofessional—
"Uhm, I'll be alright sir, just a bit banged up. I… I just need a moment. And maybe a hand to a chair, Harry?"
Harry was already offering his hand to help her up when Malfoy stepped forward suddenly, bending to push his arm away. Harry stared at his arm, then at Malfoy with confused shock.
"She's got a concussion and at least a few broken ribs; are you blind, Potter? You're a bloody auror, and you can't tell she's more than 'just a bit banged up' ?" He directed this question to Harry but threw her a disapproving look, Hermione firing back with an indignant glare of her own.
"I've sent Wipsy to her room with some medical supplies. Follow me."
Without any warning Malfoy had stepped fully around Harry and was once again lifting Hermione up, causing a hiss of pain to escape through her clenched teeth. He started off in the direction Nott had just arrived from at a brisk pace back. Hermione curled in on herself, arms firmly wedged across her chest as discomfort swirled inside her.
"H-hey, Malfoy! What are you doing?!" Harry had pushed to his feet and jogged briefly to catch up, Nott falling in step as Malfoy passed him before he led the two of them to the left and started up a grand set of stairs.
"You don't know your way around my home, Potter. Granger needs these injuries seen to; she can't very well do what she came here to do in the state she's in. Keep up, will you?"
Up until this point Hermione's thoughts had this question swirling beneath the urgency of her pain and the general chaos; what was happening? Malfoy was being downright DECENT to her, the complete opposite of the boy she had gone to school with all those years ago. She didn't know who this man was; the one who tried to shield her from the horror of a past trauma, and then coached her through the throws on a panic attack. But then the realization sunk in as she processed his words; '…can't very well do what she came here to do…' and suddenly it hit her like a ton of bricks — he needed her. She was here to pull apart his curse and then counter it, and every minute she spent NOT doing that was another minute of lost time to him.
"Give me to Harry. Now, please. He can follow you just as well while carrying me." Her tone was short as she made the demand, ready to twist out of Malfoy's grip if he chose not to listen.
That wasn't necessary, however. She watched an emotion she couldn't identify flash over Malfoy's face before it returned to stony passivity. He stopped and turned sharply at the top of the stairs to face Harry who had been trailing a few feet behind him.
"Arms up, Potter." He ordered imperiously, waiting for Harry to step forward and make a cradle with his arms before carefully depositing Hermione into his grip.
"Uh… thanks." Harry said slowly, before gently adjusting his grip and then continuing after Malfoy as they resumed their path through the winding halls.
They traveled another few moments through the enormous house, the tension in the air palpable as Hermione peeked at her surroundings to try and keep her mind off the pain. The Malfoy home was not a place of much warmth; the grand high ceilings, seemingly ancient wood paneling, and creaking floor boards brought up memories of haunted houses from muggle movies she had seen as a child. Windows with heavy velvet curtains drawn over the glass only made the hallways less inviting, the corners disappearing into darkness. She couldn't imagine what it was going to be like living in a place like this, much less what it must have been like growing up as a small child here.
Finally they arrived at their destination, a large wooden door identical to many that they had passed, and Malfoy gripped the door knob before suddenly stopping in his tracks. He seemed to struggle internally for a moment before speaking.
"Your things arrived earlier and I had Whipsy arrange what she could. If… if the rooms aren't to your liking, or if there's anything else you may want just let her know. She has been instructed to obey you as she would me."
With that out of the way he turned the knob and pushed, opening the door and striding into what would have to be her small sanctuary in the coming weeks of her work.
As Harry cleared the door carrying her, paying mind to make sure he didn't bump her into the frame, Hermione looked up to get her first glimpse of the space. Finally able to see the room beyond as Malfoy moved out of their way, she was unable to contain her sharp gasp of surprise.