AN: Hey, lovelies! Not gonna rant here. Not gonna rant here. Not gonna rant here. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are gonna change, let me tell ya. This week needs to be over, those in favor, say 'aye.'
In the morning, Draco had not returned. Hermione rolled her eyes at his absence, suspecting him passed out in some bimbos apartment after a night of drunk partying like Ron seemed to have adopted with that blondie. Maybe it was her. Maybe she cast a curse on all the men she was near to make them lead reckless lives. It would be best for Draco to just get out of her range to protect himself. Or maybe he didn't mind. She buried her head in her hands in thinking that this was probably the truth.
As she pulled on shorts and a tee-shirt over a bathing suit (she had yet to go swimming), she recalled his behaviors at Hogwarts. Sure, she had not spent seventh year with him, but that chick Pansy was always crawling on him, and he dressed like a pimp when they were sixteen. He even slicked back his hair. Guys trying to impress people did that, right? Oh, what did she know? The only person she had ever tried to impress other than a teacher was Ron, and her charms had obviously done nothing in that department. She hoped that Crookshanks was alright.
When she was about to pull on the door handle to go for a morning swim before trying to avoid the competitive Zelda at breakfast, Hermione crashed down to the floor, grasping her head at the temples and writhing in pain. Images flashed before her eyes. Images of Draco's blond hair. Images of Draco lying in a road with people punching at him every second. He did not even seem to have enough energy to plaster a stoic look on his face-everything about him from his crushed lips to squinted eyes screamed pain. And he screamed. He screamed Hermione's name.
She hoped that Draco was alright even though she knew he was not.
Always a skilled witch, Hermione focused herself to apparate to where Draco was without knowing the exact destination. She pictured the Hawaiian road with a helpless boy being outnumbered and so incapacitated that he could not use his wand. Hermione braced herself for the familiar black hole of apparition and pulled her wand from her shorts in mid-flight.
Deposited on a sidewalk with no street lights to illuminate this street in the early morning where the sun had not yet risen over the shadows of buildings, she shouted hexes upon arrival. The cliched I-will-not-shoot-because-I-do-not-want-to-hit-the-victim barely rushed through her head before she shouted sectumsempra after each of her hurried breaths. Draco's attackers flew into the air, blood shooting off from their hands where they had broken Draco's skin. Each of the four lay in convulsions at the corners of the streets as Hermione rushed to his side.
The now-victims at each end of a compass moaned as Draco did, but Hermione only muttered healing charms over her friend. "Draco, we have to get you to a hospital!"
"No, no, no!" He regained enough energy to grab her wrists and shake them in pleas. "They'll find out that we're wizards. They'll find out who those guys are. Take me back to the penthouse," he muttered with one last breath before collapsing onto her forearms.
She muttered one last spell spell before apparating them back to their room with tears in her eyes. His blood was like onions to her.
This black hole felt like a well that she could not help but fall into. Call Lassie.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived, but immediately lapsed into screeching at the sight of a splinched Draco. He started shaking in pain as she panicked. Call a nurse. The last time she had dealt with this was with Ron and she had used... She had used...Ditany! Yes! "Accio ditany," she screamed at the top of her lungs, picturing a bottle buried in her medicine cabinet. It soared into her hand and with shaking fingers she pulled out the dropper.
Rocko clicked on the TV, but she screamed a curse at it, making the screen fall back against the wall and unplug itself.
Draco passed out as she spread the medicine over him, and she turned to praying as she had not done since she left for Hogwarts where the idea of a God seemed insignificant. She too passed out this way, but from sheer overexertion, not pain.
When Hermione woke up from the blinding sun that shot through the blinds, Draco was in the bathroom washing his face and then buttoning up a polo, not bloody, not brusied, not cut at all, like his usual porcelain statue self.
"Draco!"'
"Oh, um, hello, Hermione." He did not move his focus from his shirt before turning off the light and slipping into some flip-flops. "Want to get some dinner? It would be nice to watch the sunset while we eat before we have to leave tomorrow."
"What happened?" She erupted. "How can you just act like you are fine when just hours I rescued you from certain death? Are you really that out of touch with the real world? They would have killed you if you hadn't thought to contact me with Legilimency, which I am not sure how you did considering the state you were in! What happened?"
"Please, let's not talk about it. Is the hotel restaurant a good place?"
"No! I don't want to go to dinner! I want answers! Who were those people and why were they attacking you? Did you provoke them or was it an outstanding grudge? Are you in trouble? What is going on?"
Rocko turned on as Draco muttered, "Do not worry about me."
The bird, cawed, "So, Mr. Malfoy, I see that you're plan is not going as planned."
"Shut up, Rocko!"
Hermione jumped on the word 'plan' as Draco shut off the TV. "Plan? What plan? I knew that we weren't friends, but I thought we were more honest with each other than this."
Draco shook his head and combed his hands through his ruffle hair. "No, you wouldn't be able to take my honesty!"
"Try me!"
"No, and that's final! I will not argue with you!" He swung open the door and grabbed a room key in a last act of responsibility. "Now, if you will excuse me."
"Fine, go have dinner with your precious Zelda!"
"What?" He spat the word in utter confusion as the elevator arrived, opening its doors to the attendant in his crisp, green uniform.
The boy's quiet, "Sir, which floor?" sent Hermione into the backdrop as she disappeared into the past.
"Nothing!"
Draco shook his head at her stubborness and left her alone to place a sleeping charm on herself after packing her things so that she would not wake up when Draco returned.
The two of them woke up at the same time for once, and Hermione plugged the TV back in to bid Rocko a final goodbye to which he replied with a cool dismissal and shake of his head.
Both of them carried their suitcases to the elevator where the boy was waiting for them with a cart. He attempted small talk, but neither responded, feigning exhaustion and hang overs that inhibited their social abilities. Draco threw their room keys on the counter and did not respond to the host's well wishes.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when their limo driver remained silent as they were and relished the feeling of cool separation that had washed over them and remained until they had to tell the security agent at the airport what their names were. Draco cast an invisibility charm on his wand this time and Hermione did likewise to avoid any confrontations in the white-walled place with its fake palm trees and paintings from long-dead native artists.
The gate agent called the first class ticket holders, so they left the not-so sterile waiting area to relax into blue leather seats with built-in TVs while a stewardess brought them pineapple juice in crystal glasses.
Draco muttered, breaking the silence, "Zelda gave me her number last night, so you were right about her."
"Yeah, she told me that she thought you were hot."
He chuckled and drew his hands through perfectly-combed hair. "I threw it out, just so you know."
"Good." She tried to make it sound more matronly than controlling, but she had no idea how Draco perceived it.
"Do you think I'm hot?"
"Don't push your luck, Malfoy. I'm still mad at you."
He downed his pineapple juice like it was a shot before slamming his fists onto his knees in preparation for his defense. "I told you, I can't tell you who those guys were and why we were fighting. All you can know is that I was in trouble, but my pained brain thought to call you and you saved me. I am eternally grateful for you. Thank you for saving my life. I am forever in your debt. What do you want me to say?"
She murmured, "I don't want that. I just want equal honesty. We all deserve some of that, don't we?"
The flight continued in silence, with meals passed out, vegetarian, and two movies watched by each of them with barely a smile at jokes or frown at tragedies. The flight attendants regarded them with confused glances and concocted outlandish stories about this mysterious couple, many of which involved a vibrant sex life.
Hermione grumbled all through customs and almost lapsed into full on cursing when she could not understand what the officer was saying, so Draco butted in to help her. They exited the line with their luggage, and Hermione fought back tired tears.
"Here, Hermione, let me drive you home. My car was close to the exit."
She was too exhausted and frustrated to argue.
Draco put a hand on her back to guide her to the garage, but both of them flinched at the contact and quickly separated. Hermione hid her tears by walking ahead of Draco and keeping her eyes low. At some point, the scenery in front of her changed from white tile to black cement and stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. Draco started cursing after they walked down every row without finding his car. He hit the panic button and could hear a shrieking from below, so they trekked down the stairs, Hermione holding back pained moans as her strappy heels dug into her feet.
"Draco, did you seriously lose your car?"
"No, it's right here!" He hit the panic button again, but it was still below them. Hermione rolled her eyes and walked away from him towards her own car.
"Where are you going?"
"To my own car!"
"Sorry, see you on Monday!"
"We'll see about that," she muttered to herself as she slid into her car and let the tears rush down onto the steering wheel before starting the engine and crying more as the air from the vents hit her eyes.