Hermione woke to the gentle sound of wind blowing through the trees. She could smell fresh lilacs and lavender. I must be dreaming. She opened her eyes and tried to sit up. A sharp pain in her ribs pulled her back to reality with a sharp cry. She lay back down and tried to get a sense of her surroundings.
She could feel the silk sheets around her, a stunning shade of purple, almost royal looking. The canopy above the king-size bed was the same shade, as well as the curtains draped in front of the fifteen foot windows and doors leading to, what she assumed was, a balcony. She listened to the leaves rustling and almost dozed off again. She hadn't felt this calm in so long…
Where am I? She needed answers. But a part of her didn't care right now. The lilacs and lavender were sitting in a vase next to the bed. All the furniture in the room was a deep cherry colored wood. Hermione didn't know much about art décor, but they were lovely pieces all the same.
She took a few deep breaths to brace herself for the pain and pushed herself up into a sitting position. It took a few more painful minutes to get the pillows situated just right, but she was finally able to see out the windows. She could almost make out a beautiful garden outside, surrounded by a dense forest.
Just as she was feeling almost relaxed there came a knock on the door. The sound was so loud compared to her peaceful quiet that she had to suppress a shout. A small house elf with little red bows on her ears poked her head in. "Pardon me, Miss, but Master asked me to bring you breakfast."
"Asked?" Hermione thought maybe the elf had misspoken, or that maybe she was suffering from a concussion after all. Surely a house elf's master would never ask, they would command.
As if the elf hadn't heard her, "If you would like I could come back in a short while, so that you have time to freshen up." She cast her eyes down, as if she was trying to save Hermione the embarrassment.
It wasn't until that moment that she actually looked at her apparel. No wonder she had felt like she was floating on a cloud! She was scantily clad in an emerald green sleeping gown. It had small straps around the shoulders that crossed in the back, and the bottom of the gown only fell to mid thigh, leaving little to the imagination. A matching robe was hanging on a hook on one of the corners of the bed. The gown was beautiful, but what worried her was how she came by it, and again, where she was.
She reached up to her jaw and rubbed the side that Ron had slapped her on. It throbbed in pain and felt swollen. It was bound to be black and blue if she had a mirror to see it in. Next was her rib. She had most definitely heard it crack last night, and was worried about what condition it was in now. Had whoever brought her here done anything to help her injuries?
The elf turned to leave. "Wait!" Hermione said, her rib hurting even more. "I…I don't think I can get up on my own." She felt weak and frustrated. She had fought for equal rights for elves and other creatures for years, but still felt guilty asking for their help. "Is there someone here who could help me to the bathroom? A woman, perhaps?"
As embarrassed as Hermione felt, the elf looked. Her face turned red, almost to the tips of her ears. "The only human in the manor is Master himself, I'm afraid. I will go fetch him. He'll know what to do." With that the elf exited.
Hermione leaned back into the down pillows, wanting to sink into their soft embrace. She hadn't realized until that moment how scared she was of meeting this mysterious man. Yes, she was curious. And grateful. But also frightened. What kind of man would take a woman from…wherever I disapparated to…and bring her to his home. With no one else there for her to turn to.
She could feel the tension beginning to knot in her back, right between her shoulder blades. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply. If he meant to hurt me, why would he save me? That did little to ease her mind, but she finally dozed of into a light sleep.
Right before she drifted off, she had one last, clear thought. Where is my wand?
He couldn't believe it. Of all the places she would appear, and unconscious none the less, it had to be at his manor. What cruel twist of fate is this? If he believed in a god, Draco could swear he was mocking him. He didn't though. The only faith he ever had was in the darkness of reality. It had been bred into him. The world didn't care about him, so why should he care about it.
But does it have to be that way? He wanted so desperately to believe that life could change. That he could be happy. He thought, maybe after the war, that he could meet someone. Settle down, raise a family. But the only women interested in him were after his money, whether they were prospective wives, only in love with the Malfoy name, or whores. At least the whores were honest.
He stood up from his desk and started pacing in front of the fireplace. It was too warm out for the fire to be going, but this had always been his favorite room in the manor. His father had a separate library for himself. This one his mother and he had shared. But mostly it was Draco's. Narcissa had a small section in the corner of romance novels, but that was it. She had no other need for a study, so mostly had come in here for some peace and quiet; time to talk with her son. How Draco missed those days.
No use crying over spilled milk. Or blood… His mind flashed to last night. She had blood trickling from the corner of her bow-shaped mouth. A single line of crimson on her perfectly golden skin. Even though she was unconscious, Draco could tell she was in pain. Her jaw had already started to bruise and her shirt had bunched up around her side in her fall. There was a sick, sunken look to one of her lower right ribs. Draco knew that look too well.
"Rosey!" He knelt to lift her, trying to be gentle.
As he headed towards the staircase leading to the east wing, Rosey appeared. "Master?"
"Make up the guest bedroom in the east wing. The Lavender room, please. And hurry." He kept walking past her and heard her pop away. He would have done the same, since the walk was a long one, but he was afraid the disapparation might hurt Hermione further.
He tried to walk as quickly and gently as possible. Thank Merlin he had stayed in shape after Hogwarts. Quidditch had given him a strong enough physique and he was bound to keep it up. It was one of the few hobbies he had to pass the time.
As he finally came to the end of the wing Rosey had the door open for him. "The room is set up for Miss. Is there anything further that I can do?" Draco almost wanted to hug her. As much as his father tried to drill into his mind that house elves were just servants, Rosey had become more like family.
"No thank you. I'll take it from here." Draco crossed to the bed and gently lay Hermione down. When he finally heard the door shut behind him, he collapsed to his knees next to the bed. His mind began to race. What was he to do with her? What had happened? Why did she come here? But worst of all…What will happen when she wakes up?
Please review! I'm just a beginner and comments are welcome. I've tried a few other stories before but this one really has it's claws in me. I'm hoping to continue writing it, permitted that I have the time.