Chapter 5

It didn't take long for Hermione's strength to fail her. Carrying him to safety had been a fool's dream, but she had to try. At least, they were no longer in the clearing. She set the makeshift litter down and rubbed the sweat out of her eyes. Glancing back at him, she noticed that Draco was in and out of sleep. He would not be able to walk and she was not able to drag him. There was no guarantee that help would come.

She knelt down, pushing the blond hair out of his face. "I need to find help. I will be back soon."

"I will feel better after a good night's rest."

He went into a coughing fit, his back hunched over, and face contorted in pain as the position pulled at his wounds. Hermione rubbed the area on his back that was unaffected. The spray of blood from his cough strengthened her resolve.

Once he was settled, Hermione dragged the litter into a clump of elder trees. She hoped it would provide enough cover. His grey eyes watched her as she grabbed her pack and the guilt of leaving him was a weight on her shoulders. Draco was about to say something before she left, but she interrupted him. "I will be back soon, I promise."

Hermione crawled out beneath the tree. It took a second to place herself, but once she found the North Star, she started walking. She wanted to jog but night had fallen, obscuring obstacles and making the journey twice as long. Hermione rolled her ankle once, made enough noise to wake up the entire forest, but she did not care. Hermione needed to get back to him quickly. She tried to be strong in front of Draco, but she knew he was more injured than she initially thought. He had internal bleeding and there was no way to know how severe it was. Hermione prayed that it was a slow bleed, that she had time to save him.

It felt like an eternity passed before she saw a light in the distance. Not certain of what laid ahead, she used Draco's tricks for making as little noise as possible. This slowed her considerably, but she was only helpful to Draco alive. It was difficult at night, but Hermione thought he would have been proud of her efforts. The light came from inside a cave. She crept up to the entrance and almost drew back. The very air itself felt unnatural like a cool liquid was being poured down her back. But Draco was the reason she was here, so she took a deep breath and stepped forward -

"Can I help you?" The voice startled her and she almost screamed in terror. The young man standing behind her smiled, amused with her reaction.

Hermione clenched her fists to stifle her fear. "Are you the wídefeorlic?"

"I am. Come warm yourself by the fire, child, and tell me what grieves you."

The wídefeorlic was rumored to be the greatest healer in the world. He had powers that went beyond reason and logic and was dangerous. He had been around for centuries, poisoning kings, kidnapping children, and drinking the blood of virgins. Hermione did not know how much of it was fabricated, but he was the only healer that could help.

"I do not have the time. My friend is injured and I need your help," she said, but her heart dropped when the wídefeorlic started walking into the cave.

She was not one to be shy nor give up, so Hermione followed him. He pulled a pot off the fire and poured the stew into two wooden bowls. The wídefeorlic offered her one, but she politely shook her head. She had grown up hearing stories about how he would bewitch stragglers with food and drink. Hermione also knew his appearance was an illusion, he was far older than six and ten. The wídefeorlic shrugged at her rejection. "It is not every day that a royal seeks my help. Does your father know you are here?"

Hermione shook her head. "I need your help. My friend is bleeding to death." And then she proceeded to tell him how Draco got injured and what she had done. The wídefeorlic nodded along but seemed to be in no great hurry.

"Your friend has time. I was aware of your presence the moment you stepped foot into my domain," he said before slurping back the stew.

She could not stand still while Draco was out there alone and defenseless. The dark haired man ignored her, leaving her full of restless energy. Hermione walked around the cave trying to decide if she should leave. Maybe Draco's injuries weren't as bad as she thought and it was clear the wídefeorlic wasn't going to help. She tried to look at his things but she couldn't focus, even with the jars of eyes that were staring at her.

"What can I offer you to save my friend? I will do anything."

"You offer so much for someone you have just met," the wídefeorlic smiled. "Lead me to your friend and I will see what I can do."

Hermione immediately took off and guided him back to where she had left Draco. It seemed like the journey was faster now that she had someone who could help. She was surprised at how well she remembered the path, like her feet had memorized every step and her eyes every tree. The fear of the unknown lurking in the shadows was forgotten, but the unease she felt towards the man was tempered by her need for his skill.

Draco was in the same position that she had left him. He had fallen asleep at some point, but the pain was still etched on his pale face. Bringing a hand to his brow, she bit her lip when she realized he felt clammy.

"So this is the man you are willing to do anything for. Interesting." The wídefeorlic waved his hand and Hermione could scarcely believe her eyes when the litter hovered in the air. "Well, what are you waiting for, child? Let us return."

She walked next to the wídefeorlic, her back straight as she tried to ignore the fact that Draco was floating behind them. The man was nonchalant, leaping over rocks without a glance back at the blond. Hermione was not sure how they made it back to the cave without her having a heart attack. He set the litter down and levitated Draco to the pile of straw. It frightened her that he had not woken up once since she had returned to him and her anger at the wídefeorlic grew.

The man did some peculiar tests - including pulling on Draco's earlobes, lifting his arms, smelling his hair - and Hermione wondered what she had hoped to achieve by bringing Draco here. But then he grabbed a bowl and his arms were moving so fast grabbing various ingredients that she calmed down. The air smelled of cloves, cider, and vomit. The wídefeorlic stirred and mottled and shook the mixture before kneeling beside Draco. He pinched Draco hard and her friend woke up startled and in a panic. "Where am I? What -"

"Draco, you are safe. I am here," Hermione said stepping forward.

He looked at the man next to him, then back towards her. "You brought me to the wídefeorlic? I was not so far gone that -"

"You are nearing Death's door and there is no time to argue. You have internal injuries and are bleeding out. Drink this before it is too late," the man said and poured the tincture down Draco's throat. Not even a minute later, Draco's eyes rolled back and he fell back onto the straw bed.

"And now we wait." When he saw that Hermione was hovering by Draco, the wídefeorlic gestured her to sit down by the fire. "There is nothing more that we can do for him. He has to fight this on his own. Now come and eat something. I promise the food is safe."

She reluctantly left Draco and listened to him. Taking the bowl of stew with shaking hands, she took a small sip. It was the best rabbit stew she had tasted, with a hint of garlic, parsley, and thyme. Her eyes kept flickering to Draco and she waited until her bowl was empty to ask the question that weighed on her mind. "Will he live?"

"That depends on a few things. But there is nothing more that I can do," the wídefeorlic said, taking the seat across the fire so that his face was half covered in shadows. "What brings you to this area of the forest?"

She fiddled with the bottom of her tunic and tried to decide how much to tell him. Hermione realized that she had never worn the same piece of clothing for longer than a day and she was certain she was beginning to smell. "I wanted to see the countryside and learn more about the people of Almara."

"This has nothing to do with the new tax that your father introduced?" His green eyes looked older, showing his true age and wisdom.

"How do you know about that?" Hermione said sitting up straighter. "Only my parents and their advisors were privy to that."

"I have my ways. Not all of the stories about me are true and not all of them are false," he said. "I know that you disagreed about the impending war, the tax, and marriage."

"Would you not object to a marriage that was agreed upon without your permission? Or the fact that this war is useless and will only serve to endanger our subjects? And to afford this war and my marriage, we must tax the subjects that are struggling to make ends meet?" Hermione exploded. She had kept her emotions bottled up and with her worry about Draco and she could not contain it any longer. "I would rather leave than support my father's decisions."

The wídefeorlic stared into the fire now and did not answer her outburst. Time slowed to a crawl and she wondered if her father even cared that she ran away from home. He had spent her entire childhood ignoring her because she had been a girl. Her mother would be beside herself, but she also was supporting the King's decisions. The impending war was over territory and resource like most wars. It was an unnecessary - stemming from greed and power - and her father had arranged her marriage to the Crown Prince to secure the King of Elran's alliance.

"You must return to Almara," the man said, jolting her from her thoughts.

"No, " Hermione answered. If the wídefeorlic knew why she left, he should be supporting her decision to leave. "I cannot in good conscience return."

He sighed. "I understand, but there is more at stake than you know. Have you heard of the prophecy?"

"Everyone has. It is every child's bedtime story. The kingdoms will be ushered into an age of darkness, but the Rightful King and Queen will deliver the people from it. Why?"

"Because you are the Queen it speaks of," the wídefeorlic said and a small smile appeared when he saw her disbelief. "You are right to fear the path your father has chosen, but you will save your subjects from the terrible fate that awaits."

Hermione scoffed. "I appreciate that you believe in prophecies, but I do not. I believe in science and reason. The Crown Prince will become the King of Almara when my father passes. He will have the power to make these changes, not I."

"You have seen my magic. It goes against everything you believe, yet it still exists," he started, then sighed. "You know deep down that you need to return. What is stopping you?"

She looked at Draco before looking at the flames. "I want to choose my own path."

"He is promised."

Pansy. "I know, but the freedom to make my own decisions, to not have the responsibility of an entire kingdom..."

"Yet you would not let someone else suffer your burden," the man said with a knowing smile.

He was right. Her decision to runaway had been an act of rebellion, but she knew deep down that she would have returned to Almara. Hermione got up and walked to Draco's bedside. He looked peaceful for the first time since she had met him. Draco did not know the consequences of traveling with her. Her father would accuse him of kidnapping her and he had a life with another. Their companionship was only ever going to be temporary. Then why was it so hard to leave?

"Will he recover?"

The wídefeorlic put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He is getting stronger as the moon begins its descent. You saved his life."

Hermione did not want to leave Draco. They had been through a lot in their short time together and she had learned more about herself than she had known was possible. But, she had duties to attend to back home and if the man was to be believed, a great destiny. Those things alone did not make her move. She pictured Draco with a beautiful woman, imagined what his life was like in Elran, and knew that there was no place for her there.

"It is time," the wídefeorlic said, releasing her shoulder.

Nodding, she swallowed the lump in her throat and gathered her things. "Thank you for saving him. I will forever be in your debt."

"You will be happy," he said with a sad smile. "Have a safe journey home."

"Thank you." With a heavy heart, Hermione looked at Draco one last time - memorizing the contours of his face - before leaving the cave.

As soon as she was out of hearing distance, she burst into tears.