Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All characters belong to the one and only JK Rowling.
Draco landed hard on the ground. The first thing he noticed was that he was no more in Malfoy Manor. Instead, he was in a forest, surrounded by tall trees. Winter had brushed away their leaves, leaving them numb and almost...haunting. He let his gaze wander over the river in front of him, which was mirroring the melancholic bluish color of the sky. The sun had not risen up yet, he guessed.
He spotted Hermione's small form a few meters beside him. He quickly ran to her, hoping the apparation hadn't caused her any more damage. He noticed she was still shaking violently, effects of the cruciatious curse. Her face was dangerously pale and there was a gash on her left cheek. He fixed his gaze on her arm, which was still bleeding mercilessly.
Damn.
That was going to he harder than he had first thought.
He had been so absorbed in planning what to do that he hadn't seen that a tent was set up right behind him. So when he finally did, he was more than just surprised.
He could see a faded light coming from inside, while some books were sprawled at the entrance of the tent, half-covered with snow. It seemed like someone had left the tent in a rush.
Draco approached carefully, gripping the wand in his hand tightly. He glanced at Hermione and all of a sudden, something clicked in his mind.
"Of course...The tent's hers"
Only Hermione Granger would read so many books at once.
The blonde wizard smiled sadly at the memory of her younger self getting stuck in books, knowing every answer to every lesson. He shook his head, acknowledging that their childhood had long been gone, and quickly casted some protective enchantments.
He turned his gaze back to the unconscious witch. There was no time for missing. He scooped her up in his arms, surprised at how light she was.
He entered the tent, gently setting her the small couch. He kneeled beside her and gathered all his remaining strength.
"Episkey", he whispered.
The gash on her cheek started closing, until all that was left was a faint pink scar. After he had skillfully healed the rest of the cuts on her face, he gulped. Her woolen coat was making everything too difficult, as he wasn't able to check for any other bruises. He hesitantly took it off along with her shoes, leaving her in a shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Draco silently hoped he wouldn't end up hexed into oblivion for that. The only thing he wanted to do was to heal that broken, yet so strong girl in front of him. He took a deep breath and lifted her jumper slightly. Luckily, there were just a few fresh cuts, which he hastened to heal.
His attention, then, shifted to her arm. The angry, red letters stared back at him. It seemed as the ugly word, which had so viciously been curved into the young witch's skin, demanded for attention. He gently took her arm in his hands, tracing the words lightly with his fingers. It was then when he realized that her blood was all over his hands. However, he didn't mind. Not anymore. It was just blood. Blood like his, blood that everyone's veins had running in them.
He remembered his younger self being ashamed of the fact that Hermione Granger, a mudblood would beat him in every single subject. He always came second in class, and it frustrated him. But that was what he had been taught his whole life; that muggleborns were dirty, that they had stolen the magic from purebloods.
How is that even possible?
What does really define blood purity?
Do Death Eaters have pure blood, despite the fact that they've killed innocent people?
Mudblood.
Yes, he had called her that word. But now, staring at her curved arm, all he could do was feel ashamed of himself. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of that.
"Episkey", Draco whispered, pointing his wand at her arm.
Nothing happened.
"Episkey!" he said more forcefully.
Once again nothing happened. He cursed under his breath.
"Shit. What am I suposed to do now?" he silently thought.
His train of thoughts was interrupted as Hermione started stirring. She slowly opened her eyes, only to see an unclear figure kneeling beside her. She felt panick overcome her. Her foggy mind sent only one message; danger. She started thrushing around on the small couch, a scream of despear escaping her lips.
"Granger, wake up!"
He realized he sounded angry, but he wasn't; he was worried.
"Granger, it's me... You're safe..."
She was suffering, she was trapped in what seemed to be an endless nightmare.
"Hermione..." he whispered, shaking her slightly.
The moment his lips uttered her name, the brunette woke up with a start.
"Whe...Where am I?" she asked, her breath hitched.
She took in her surroundings, feeling a wave of relief washing over her. Yes, she recognized the tent, but who had brought her there? Had Harry and Ron saved her?
Her eyes laid on the pale, blonde boy beside her, who was looking at her, unsure of what to do.
"Malfoy?"
Before Draco had had the chance to talk, a small gasp left the girl's lips. He followed her gaze, his eyes eventually landing once again on her arm. However, the thing that hurt him that time was not the ugly scar but Hermione's blank expression. He wished she would do something, anything, even slap him.
But her eyes remained fixed, and for the first time in his life he saw her so... so devastated.
Draco silently sat beside her on the couch. With a sudden movement, he ripped the hem of his white shirt.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked in a hoarse voice.
The blonde didn't respond. Instead, he carefully took her injured arm in his hands, bandaging it with the ripped piece of his shirt. His fingers briefly brushed hers, sending tingles down his spine.
"You'll get my mudblood germs all over you", Hermione said, her voice weak yet dripping with sarcasm.
Draco flinched.
"Don't talk like that about yourself"
"That's ironic, don't you think?" Her tone was soft, but her words stabbed him like daggers.
He thought they had gotten over that issue. However, he couldn't blame her for bringing it up. He had treated her terribly as a child. But had she forgotten the moments they had shared in sixth year? No, Hermione hadn't forgotten anything.
However, the war changes people and overshadows their relationships, destroying anything that has been built. It only made them remember that they were on different sides. Light against dark. Life against death.
Draco looked at the young witch beside him.
"I'm not the same person I used to be. I've changed"
Hermione said nohing. She just stared back into his silvery blue eyes, casting him a thoughtful look.
Suddenly, memories flooded her mind; Harry had said Voldemort's name, they had been caught by snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor. And then, she had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. However, her mind had gone completely blank after that.
"What happened? Are Harry and Ron alright? How did I get here?" she eventually asked, her tone indicating her worrying and wanting for answers.
A strange feeling attacked Draco when she mentioned the boys' names, a mix of anger and jealously. What was happening to him?
"Potter and Weasley escaped. You were being... you know what..." his voice was choked. He took one deep breath, trying to find the appropriate words. "I stupefied Bellatrix and... and apparated with you here"
He knew she would want more details, his description was so poor comparing to what had happened. However, at that very moment all he could utter was that.
Hermione seemed to be in loss of words, and only Draco could be the cause of that. He, Draco Malfoy had gone against his own family to save her. She slowly brought her hand to her cheek, where she was sure there had been a deep gash. But now, she realised that the gash had been healed along with some other minor cuts on her face. He had healed her.
Draco, who had been watching her, immediately read her mind.
"Yes, Granger, I healed you"
The brunette glanced at him, a puzzled look on her face. She had so many questions, but she couldn't help but ask the most burning of them.
"Why?"
Draco looked at her questionably.
"What do you mean?"
"Why did you save me Draco?"
He felt her eyes could see through his soul, and that was what frightened him the most.
"Because Potter has no chance in winning this damn war without you", he eventually said.
"Is this the only reason?" she asked, not sure why she was pushing the matter further.
A small pause followed her question.
"Yes", Draco replied, trying to prevent his emotions from indicating that he was a liar. However, he didn't fail to notice Hermione's somehow disappointed look.
Silence filled the tent once again.
Hermione runned her hands through her caramel brown curls, grimacing as she encountered a wild comb.
"I'm going to take a bath", she announced, throwing her legs off the side of the couch.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Granger, after everything you've been though you can't expect yourself to walk right away!"
Hermione ignored him. She stood up, but her legs eventually failed her. Inches before hitting the ground, a strong arm wrapped her waist. Draco's arm.
"Merlin, you really are stubborn!" he chuckled.
They were so close that his hot breath was tingling her ear. A strange feeling of butterflies rushed through her.
"You're saying it as it's a bad thing!" Hermione challenged, her cheeks blushing furiously.
"You're cute when you blush, you know that?" Draco said, giving her his trademark smirk.
"Oh, shove off", she told him, trying to hide her laugh.
"As you wish"
Draco put his hand away from her waist for a split second, which was enough for Hermione to stumble. She fell onto him, sending them both to the floor.
"Ouch!" he groaned.
"You're a complete idiot, aren't you?" Hermione said, glaring at him. "I'm already injured in case you haven't noticed"
"But you weren't hurt. You fell onto me", Draco smirked once again, tucking a few strands of her behind her ear.
"You're impossible", Hermione muttered.
She carefully moved her body away from Draco's and sat up on the floor. He sat up as well and looked at her.
"So... Umm...How about I get you to the bathroom?", he said and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but he had already scooped her up. She couldn't deny that she felt safe in his arms. It seemed as the war couldn't reach her there.
Draco finally came across a small room with a plain bathtub, a sink and a toilet.
"You'll be alright, won't you?" he asked her.
"Well, I won't drown"
She tried to crack a joke, but Draco sensed how awkward she felt because of her temporary disability to walk.
"Can you give me my bag? I have my clothes there", Hermione hesitantly said. Never in her entire life had she imagined that she would be stuck in a situation like that. She never depended on anyone, she would do everything by herself. But now she needed help, and realized that even the strongest people need someone by their side.
"I'll be outside if you need anything", Draco said, handing her the bag. He silently closed the door behind him and hastened to leave.
He sat on the couch, thinking about how his life had changed in just a few hours. He could not go back home, he knew that. After all, he didn't even want to, at least as long as Voldemort was wandering there. All that was left was hope.
Another long chapter finished. Stay tuned for chapter 3! I spent hours writing this so please tell me what you think. Don't judge me too harshly, all the other stories I've written are one-shots. Review, review, review!