Authors' Notes: The Madam and the Otter do extend their sincerest of apologies for not getting this out in a timely fashion-life caught up to us. We are both incredibly humbled and pleased with the love this story of ours has received thus far. Thank you for sticking by our sides through this tale of ours!
ALSO, if you haven't already acquainted yourselves with the work of one illustrious Mrs. Ren, you need to do so ASAP. The Red String of Fate here on ffn, or, to tickle your loins, there is a story by the name of Getting Even on AO3 that is some of the smuttiest smut that ever smutted. Seriously, so good. Check her out-we highly recommend!
It should have come as no surprise to Draco, holding a vigil at Hermione's bedside – unwilling to take more than a step away from her, when the raised voices of Potty and the Weasel reached his ears. A small groan escaped him, and he tightened his hold on Hermione's hand just as the two idiots barged through the door.
"Hermione!" Potter's frantic shout, enough to startle his witch awake was immediately followed by a significant silence. Hermione's chocolate eyes blinked blearily at the intruders, while the three men in the room shared hostile glares.
"Harry? Ron?" Hermione murmured sleepily. "What are you doing here?"
"The healers said they were going to call the Aurors when I showed up with you, love," Draco murmured, his frustration and hurt audible in his tone.
"I'm not even going to touch on -," Harry waved vaguely in Draco's direction. "Why the hell you're dressed as a muggle fireman, and excuse me, but did you just call Hermione…love?" Ron, for his part, just stared at the scene playing out in front of him, steadily turning green around the gills. Both Aurors turned their questioning gaze to Hermione, who stared back at her friends with incredulity painted all over her features.
"Wouldn't it be more appropriate, Potter, to ask your best friend if she's okay? She only survived a horrendous fire earlier today."
"Oh yes, I'm aware. Do you have any idea the kind of mess you left for me to clean up, Malfoy?" Emerald green eyes narrowed to slits as Harry glared at Draco. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking? You obliviated a paramedic on route to the hospital, and apparated away, with the driver STILL DRIVING! You can't be that stupid!"
"Harry," Hermione's voice softly interjected, not only to calm the escalating tension but also because her throat felt like she had swallowed broken glass from inhaling so much smoke.
"No, Hermione, I'll come back around to you," Harry seethed, not taking his eyes off the pale ferret at her bedside.
"No, Harry – you don't," Hermione began but was cut off.
"What did you expect me to do, Potter? Let her die?" Draco asked, holding Harry's heated gaze. "She wasn't breathing on her own completely, her vitals were," the pale wizard paused, swallowed thickly and then shook his head. "Not good, to say the very least. Can you honestly tell you wouldn't have done the same thing if you were in my position? She needed the Healers here. Muggles can do some incredible things, Potter, but Hermione needed magical healing, and I couldn't lose her."
"Couldn't lose her?" Ron wheezed, looking seriously ill. "I'm so lost."
"What, like that's new?" Draco deadpanned, brushing his thumb across the hand encapsulated within his own.
"Draco!" Hermione affectionately admonished. "Be nice."
"It's Malfoy," Harry grunted. "He doesn't understand what nice is."
"Harry!" Hermione warned, feeling heat beginning to creep up her chest and neck. She was getting angry; Harry had no reason to be acting like such a little shit.
"What, Hermione?!" Harry thundered. "Do you have any idea how terrified we were when we got the call? All I could imagine was you broken, bleeding or dead. And then -," he paused as he expelled a large breath through flared nostrils, reminding both Draco and Hermione of an angry bull. "Then we're told Malfoy of all people has brought you into St. Mungo's. That he was the one to save you from a burning building and that they weren't entirely sure you hadn't been Imperiused because the two of you seemed to be madly in love!"
"Well, maybe we are!" Hermione hoarsely shouted, causing Draco to sit back, a slow smirk twisting his lips as he watched horror twist The Boy Who Lives To Be A Pain In His Arse and the freckled git's faces. "I most certainly have not been Imperiused, as if I'd ever allow that to happen. Shame on you for even considering it."
Hermione was fuming, her lithe frame was trembling slightly with rage and quite possibly residual adrenaline from the trauma she'd survived. "And for your information, Harry James Potter, Draco is a muggle firefighter. He works harder than we do, saving lives every single day. Muggle lives, Harry. He knows every single person who lives in town and has a good, genuine relationship with them. He volunteers to mow grass for those who can't, he drops off food for the elderly so that they won't go hungry, and he saved me today, Harry. Single-handedly. He was the only one who would enter the bookstore. You're being so unfair," Her voice broke, and she bit her bottom lip as she ducked her head, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone. Finally, after several shaky breaths and Draco quickly brushing away the tears she couldn't hold back, Hermione whispered, "You don't know him like I do, Harry."
"One of the healers mentioned you saying something about her brown eyes. How in the bloody hell can you possibly know that, Malfoy?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes as though the only plausible answer was that the blond had cursed the witch in question.
"I have seen her as you've only dreamt of, you red-headed pimple on the arse of wizarding society," Draco began, his patience wearing thin. "All of those stories we are told as children, all of the folklore—it's all true. Granger, in all her resplendent hues of gold and brown and pink, is my soulmate."
"'Mione?" Ron breathed, aghast. His eyes were comically large, and he looked as if he'd been kicked in the groin. Harry stared at Draco in open-mouth shock, his slowly blinking eyes never wavering from Draco's.
"It's true," she whispered, turning so she could look into her wizard's eyes. "Every time I look at Draco, it's like the world has finally come to life, and I'm only just now realizing it's been slumbering all along." Draco tenderly cupped her cheek, offering his most disarming smile and her lips immediately lifted in response.
"Harry," Ron croaked. His face had turned a morbid shade of mottled purple, and he forced his next words through clenched teeth, "I need to take a walk." He missed Hermione's wince and grimace, Draco's murderous sneer, and the panicked widening of Harry's eyes, because Ron turned on the spot and stormed from the room without another word.
"Right," Harry slowly drawled, at a loss for words. "So," he crossed his arms and stared up at the ceiling. "You two ran into each other In Winthrop's Wharf, for the first time after becoming of age and realized that you were…" he hefted a long, drawn-out sigh. "Soulmates," he concluded flatly.
"Yes, that's exactly what I just said, Potter," Draco bit back. "I must say, Snape would be impressed with how you're listening skills have improved."
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and let loose a pained-sounding whine, "For the love of all things, Malfoy, please shut up. I'm trying to wrap my mind around this, and I don't want to upset Hermione anymore than I already have." Finally lowering his eyes to meet theirs once more, Harry's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I was scared half to death and I over-reacted. I won't pretend to be thrilled beyond measure," his green eyes flickered to meet Malfoy's steely grey gaze. "But – well, that's incredible. Soulmates. Wow. And Malfoy, I can't thank you enough for saving my best friend. She's the closest thing I've got to a sister, and I'd be lost without her."
Both men had trouble swallowing down the emotions ravaging them at the moment, but Draco managed a nod of acknowledgement and held out his free hand to Potter. Hermione watched with no small amount of apprehension as Harry stared at the proffered hand, almost a mirror image of the pair from their first night at Hogwarts. Another long-suffering sigh later, Harry clasped Malfoy's hand in his own and gave it a rough shake.
"Can't rightly hate you now," he groused. "Since being a bloody hero is your day job."
"Damn, Potter," Draco joked. "You figured out my evil plan."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head at the absurdity of Draco Malfoy cracking a joke. After pulling off his glasses, Harry tiredly rubbed his eyes. "Alright, I'll handle the paramedics. You're right, Malfoy. I would've done the same. That's the whole of it though, right? No one saw you using magic during the rescue? Or are we going to need to obliviate most everyone involved?"
Hermione looked at Draco questioningly, and he squeezed her hand in gentle reassurance. Unable to resist dropping a quick kiss on her forehead, Draco shook his head. "No one else saw anything. So long as both paramedics are attended to, everything will be perfectly fine, none the wiser." Hermione offered him an adoring smile, still reeling from it all. This man, this wonderful, kind, gentle, passionate man – risked life and limb, risked everything – to save her.
And he was in love with her.
Not because of any bond. Not because he could see her in color.
He fell in love with her. Her thoughts. Her ideas. Her odd quirks and quick temper. He thought she was incredible all on her own, without the soulmate magic working to tie them together.
At that moment, all Hermione could think about was how she had gotten so lucky. What she and Draco shared was one in a million and the thought that either of them could have lost the other today knocked her for a loop like a boulder the chest.
"I could've lost you," she whispered brokenly, a fresh round of sobs shaking her small form. Draco's heart seized painfully in his chest, and he was sliding carefully into her hospital bed and gently pulling her into his embrace, shushing her with quiet words of affection and affirmation. Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure what to do since he usually offered the comfort Malfoy was now giving.
"Right," he whispered, before clearing his throat. "I'll go find Ron, and we'll take care of it - just, uh, take care of her, Malfoy."
"Of course. Thanks, Potter," Draco murmured, as he ran a soothing hand down along Hermione's spine. Her sobs had quieted, but not stopped entirely and he wasn't ready for her to leave his arms just yet. Harry only nodded in response, pausing momentarily to stare at the couple. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Harry didn't think he could ever believe it. But watching Hermione and Malfoy cling to one another with such overwhelmed desperation – he could see exactly how they fit together and he left the room feeling much lighter than he had in a very long time.