A/N: Didn't I tell you all I'd be quicker with the next update? See, promise kept! As usual, thanks to my wonderful beta eilonwy! And I hope you all enjoy!

"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation"

Kahlil Gibran

Chapter 18

Tied Down

Hermione was fighting against the thick haze in her mind, determined to break through. There was something she had to do, something that needed to be taken care of, but she couldn't grasp exactly what that something was. She knew if she could just open her eyes, the answer would come readily, but she was having such strange difficulty with this easy task.

She relaxed, deciding to take a break before trying again. In the calm, she noticed that even though her eyes were not under her control, her hearing was perfectly intact. She listened trying to discern the noises around her. There was the shuffling of feet very close to her, right by her side, and then she felt a cold touch to her wrist. A voice came with the feet, speaking in an informative and cheery voice.

"Miss Granger is going to be just fine. We gave her some sedatives to help her rest, because she was a little hysterical when she first awoke, which is understandable of course. However, she should awaken within the hour, and she'll be free to go home when all the drugs have worn off."

"Thank you, Healer Preston."

Hermione involuntarily cringed. She didn't need the healer's response to identify the owner of the other voice.

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Potter."

She listened as the echo of the healer's footsteps travelled away from her, and within moments, the sound was lost to her ears completely.

Harry took hold of her hand, and she hated the way a chill travelled down her spine. She tried to force herself to remember that he was her friend, one of the very best friends anyone could have. She remembered all the times he'd saved her life and loved her so strongly. But then, as though her thoughts were on fast-forward, her mind quickly flew through his declarations of love, their horrid date, and finally to the incident in his office, to which she had been a terrified witness. The image burned into her mind, and she suddenly wished strongly for the control of her hand, to cringe, to move away, to separate herself from his heated skin that only reminded her of his heated gaze.

She strained her ears to determine if someone else was in the room, but she could only detect his breathing and her own.

"Hermione…" he whispered, "I've missed you. You've been so distant. It's wonderful being this close to you again."

He paused, only his gentle breathing reaching her ears.

"Please don't hate me, Hermione. I know… I—I know that you saw me that night."

Hermione heard the gentle stutter of her heartbeat through the monitor next to her bed, and she prayed that he didn't notice.

"I want to explain. I need to, but I'm not sure how. I have no reasonable excuse for my behavior. I can only say that I allowed myself to be gripped so tightly by my obsession with Lucius Malfoy that when he escaped, I simply lost control. I know that it is no excuse, but it's all I have to offer. You can't imagine how it felt to see you running from me. It's something I never wish to experience again."

Hermione was thankful for the constant supply of oxygen through machines, because otherwise she might have had trouble taking in air. She had no idea that he'd seen her that night, and suddenly the thought paralyzed her, not because it had been a reaction to Lucius—she actually thought it quite a reasonable excuse for such anger. She was paralyzed because she couldn't help but make the connection between Lucius and the only other living Malfoy, who was currently under her care at St. Mungo's. She knew that Harry knew nothing of his whereabouts-- otherwise he most certainly would not be by her bedside in this moment, but rather doing something she was terrified to imagine. But what would happen when he found out? She imagined Draco, trapped in his white-washed room, helplessly facing off against Harry, the room in flames like Harry's office had been.

A sudden jolt rocked through her system as she realized that the fear that gripped her now was not for herself, but solely for the well-being of Draco Malfoy. A month ago, she would have laughed at the ridiculous thought, but now her heart ached with such strength that she was afraid it might stop beating.

There was no question in her mind. She would protect Draco at any cost, against friend or foe.

Harry's confession was interrupted by the voice of Ron Weasley.

"Bloody hell, mate, she looks as pale as a ghost."

Harry didn't reply, only released her hand and moved away from her side. Within moments, she felt Ron's overly large hand take hers and felt a gentle touch on her cheek, she assumed from Luna.

"Doctor says she'll be fine, should wake up any time, then we can take her home," Harry supplied.

No one replied. Hermione could imagine their grim faces. Ron's would probably be tinged red with anger at St. Mungo's, or more correctly her patient. She'd have to be careful with him, too. She didn't fear his reaction in the way she feared Harry's, but she knew that he would definitely spread the information to anyone listening. She imagined Luna standing there, her belly rounded with child, giving off a calm and peaceful energy. She remembered her last interaction with Luna, and the knowing look on her face when she asked about Hermione's work. Luna might pose the most realistic threat to her secret, but Hermione could not conjure up an ounce of worry. Something told her that she could trust Luna implicitly.

It was Luna who spoke next. "Harry, you look just awful. Ronald, why don't you take him to get some coffee and walk off some of that fatigue?"

Harry didn't argue and soon Hermione heard their fading footsteps.

"Hermione?" Luna whispered.

Hermione decided it was time to attempt opening her eyes again, and she found that she accomplished the task with comparative ease.

Luna smiled, "I thought you might be awake."

Hermione could only smile in return, a sense of serenity easing the anxiety that had been coursing through her system.

Luna studied her for a moment, staring curiously into her eyes, and then pulled up a chair to her bedside.

"Did I ever tell you how I first knew that I was in love with Ron?"

Unsure of where this conversation was going, Hermione only shook her head, and motioned for Luna to continue.

"Well, it was some time after the war, after you all so graciously offered me friendship."

Hermione wanted to object and say that they had been friends long before the end of the war, but decided not to interrupt the flow of her story.

"I can't say that I hadn't noticed Ron, his…" –she searched for a word— "…vibrant personality makes him difficult to ignore, but I think I had started to really, truly notice him during the war. Something about the way he would make jokes in the darkest of situations made it easier for me to cope. I found myself attuned to that adorable little quirked smile of his and the way his ears would redden. Silly me, I even was able to tell the difference between an angry, embarrassed, and happy blush. I daresay that I can be a bit too observant. But I didn't actually know that I had fallen until one of those ridiculous pickup Quidditch games that the boys are so fond of playing. I used to get so frustrated with the way Ron played, allowing his emotions to bubble so quickly to the service, and at times I thought him a right git, as obnoxious as he could sometimes be. But I remember one day, the twins—devious as always—put of a bit of a jinx on his broom, causing it to move in the opposite direction that Ron wished, you remember that?"

Hermione nodded, trying not to smile at the memory for Luna didn't seem amused.

"And I know it sounds ridiculous, but I got so angry that day! I could feel the anger rising in me, and I'm sure my ears might have taken on Ronald's same reddish hue. I'm not sure what it was, but to see him up there unable to control his broom…I was so afraid, worried, and furious all at once. The feelings nearly knocked me off my feet. I'm not usually prone to anger, but I felt it so strongly that day, and over something so silly, too. And I knew then that I was in love. Only people in love end up doing crazy, irresponsible, and dangerous things without ever doubting their necessity."

Hermione waited for her to go on, but it appeared that Luna's story was finished. She wondered with an eerie feeling if the last of Luna's words was still in reference to her love for Ron. They existed in silence for a few minutes, but when Ron's laughter could be heard in the distance, Hermione sat up in my bed.

"I think I'd like to go home now." But home was not her intention.

Luna fixed her again with her peculiar gaze, but had no chance to reply, as Harry and Ron came around the corner.

Ron was the first to come barreling to Hermione's side, talking loudly, making jokes about what he would have done if she hadn't been okay. Harry hung back, and uncertainty in his eyes, but soon he too was standing by her side.

"It looks like our Hermione is ready to go home." Luna said, and Hermione sighed in relief.

"Oh, well, let me go fetch the doctor," Harry insisted.

It took another half an hour to see the doctor and get the discharge papers finished, and all the while Hermione was impatiently urging time to move faster so that she could get to where she really wanted to be.

"Let me take you home," Harry offered. "I'll stay for a few hours to make sure you're really all right."

"No, Harry, I'm fine. It was nothing serious, really."

This was not going as she had planned. Luna caught the panicked look in her eye, and offered her a solution.

"Why don't we all go to Hermione's?" At first, Hermione blanched, but then Luna continued. "Don't worry dear, we'll leave you alone in your room to rest. We'll just be in the sitting room chatting in case you need anything."

Hermione wasn't sure if Luna knew exactly what she was doing, but she would take any help she was offered. When they arrived at her flat, Harry offered to help her into bed, but Luna quickly ushered him away, saying it would be better for a woman to help her. Harry couldn't argue with that, so he and Ron trudged to the kitchen to hunt up some food.

Luna walked Hermione to her bedroom door, but didn't follow as she had expected. Hermione glanced back to see her reaching to close the door.

"I trust you'll be fine on your own?"

Hermione wasn't sure whether Luna was referring to preparing for bed or something else entirely, but either way she gave a curt and honest nod. She decided she couldn't Apparate in case Harry were to hear, so she waited for the door to click before she grabbed her wand out of her bag and flew to the open window. She lived in a Muggle neighborhood, so it would be risky to magically lower herself to the ground. She climbed until she was a reasonable distance from the ground, cast a cushioning charm on a pile of leaves below her, and then jumped. She would definitely have to thank Luna later.

Harry would attempt to check in on her several times within the next few hours, only to be headed off by Luna, offering to do it instead.

Each time Luna would return and say, "She's fine… right where she needs to be."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When Draco had awakened that morning, he'd found himself strapped to a bed, the leather straps perhaps a bit tighter than was necessary, but he made no attempt to free himself. He deserved this and any other punishment they could offer. Despite sedation, his dreams had been filled with nightmarish images of Hermione in pain, made all the more gruesome by their truth.

He'd lain there in bed, feeling his muscles tingling from lack of use, but the slight discomfort was nothing compared to the ache that was brewing deep in his chest. He tried to consciously focus his mind on anything besides Granger, but he slowly began to realize that besides a few sparse memories from his childhood, his only good thoughts consisted of her. Knowing that she would probably never return, he allowed himself to indulge just this once, as a way of saying goodbye, and he gave himself over to his imagination.

He pictured the first time he'd snapped out of the spell, only to see her face. He remembered the look of compassion he'd found there, and the spark of hope it had ignited in his chest. He remembered the way her lips had felt against his, -- wary, but warm and intoxicating. He lost himself in the lines of her face and the gentle slope of her cheekbones. He tried to find a word to describe the sweet, floral smell of her hair, and the amused look in her eyes as they became more comfortable with each other. His mind began to wander to things he had not yet explored, levels they had not yet reached. He imagined what it would be like to kiss her-- not under a spell, and not as a game, but in surrender to the fullness of her lips, to live and breathe solely for her touch.

He pictured a life outside of this ward: reading by a fire, strolling down a beach, simply enjoying her presence, all of this done hand in hand.

He hated himself for denying what had been in front of him for so long.

He knew now in her absence that he, Draco Malfoy, was undeniably and irretrievably in love with Hermione Granger.

And he knew with painful remorse that he would never see her again.

So he allowed himself to dream, embracing images of them together that would never be.

When Hermione burst through the door, her face pale and sweat collected across her brow, he was lying on his bed, still strapped down, with a sad, but content smile on his face.

She breathed a sigh of relief, as if being here had made her whole, and she allowed the door to close with a click.

His eyes snapped open, immediately finding hers. Surprise passed across his angular features, followed by relief, joy, and something to which she could not give a name.

She crossed to him, her heart pounding so forcefully that it sounded like battle drums in her ears. She carefully placed her fingers on the straps holding him down, giving him an apologetic smile that he was sure he didn't deserve.

He said the first thing that floated into his mind.

"I missed you."

A tear welled in her eye, and his arm ached to brush it away. She dropped to her knees beside him, the luscious scent of her hair enveloping him, and she trailed a finger along his jaw.

"I missed you, too."

And then she kissed him.

A/N: I know, what a cruel place to end it right? But never fear, I won't leave you guys hanging for as long as I have in the past. From now on, the chapters will be a bit shorter, since I'm busy preparing for my trip abroad and I will have less time to write while I'm actually abroad. But don't worry! I plan to keep writing, but we'll have to settle for the chapters being a bit shorter.

Happy 2008!

Until next time,

JKRsunkmyship