What did one say to their enemy, as they lay dying?
Hermione's eyes welled with tears, a lump caught in her throat as she gazed up at Draco. He was kneeling beside her, completely caught off guard by the situation. She lay before him, bleeding out from an adbominal wound.
Hermione had just wanted to visit her childhood home one last time. Unaware that since evacuating her parents to Australia, Death Eaters had infultrated the property, set up detection wards incase anyone tried to reenter and allocated Draco Malfoy the responsibility of capturing or if necessary, killing of any intruders.
Once Hermione had stepped through the front door, the wards had been triggered. Malfoy had apparated without a moments hesitiation and struck her with a slicing hex.
Only now, upon realising who it was he had cursed, had his aggression dissolved, replaced by panic.
"There is so much I still need to do." Hermione confessed, clutching her stomach with her hands to try and slow the bleeding.
Draco stared down at her, his under eyes black with old exhastion and his face thinner and somehow more angular than it had been before; war had aged him. It had aged them all.
"Heal me Malfoy," Hermione pleaded, "Please."
"I can't do that." He told her, eyeing her injuries in horror, "Why on Earth did you think it was a good idea to come back here?"
"It's my home dammit?" She cringed as the anger she spoke with jolsted her wound, "Malfoy," She said through gritted teeth, the pain unbareable, "I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just please heal me."
"I don't believe you."
"You know what I'm like, you knew me in school, you know if I make a promise I keep it."
"We're enemies Granger. This is war."
"We're children," She corrected him, "Caught up in a mad man's war. Are you content with your desicions Malfoy? Are tou happy? Please, please do the right thing, do something good in your life for once, I'm begging you."
Her body was becoming numb from blood loss. The cream carpet beneath her, that her Mother had once fussed over to keep spotless was now staining a deep red. Her vision began spotting, her consciousness wavering and just as she beheld Malfoy's grey eyes, noting their piercing beauty and knowing it would be the last thing she ever saw, light directed from the tip of his wand and a warmth spread through her stomach.
Hermione fell unconcsious and when she woke, she was lying on her childhood bed atop the duvet.
The curtains were pulled back, revealing an overcast afternoon and as she wearily sat up, searching the room for Malfoy's intimidating stance, she realised her wound was completely healed.
She lifted her jumper, touching her fingers to the unblemished skin. Malfoy was one hell of a healer, that was for sure.
She let her jumper fall down and noticed with confusion that her wand lay on the bed beside her.
She picked it up, tempted to explore her old bookshelf and nick nacks but it was not a current priority.
"Malfoy?" She called faintly, half afraid he would answer her. Rising from the single bed, the floor boards beneath the carpet creaked from the weight and she froze. Listening intently for him outside the door.
She was met with silence.
Carefully, Hermione pushed her bedroom door open and with her wand raised defensively she peered outside. It was empty. And even more surprisingly, she realised, that any traces of blood were completely gone.
Had he cleaned up?
Hermione quickly cheked each room upstairs for signs of Malfoy, then hurried down stairs, expecting an attack, but found none.
He had gone.
He had saved her.
She realised then, that she had no clue who Malfoy really was.