Lifeline in the Storm - Draco's POV

Draco's face tightened, and then he was kneeling beside her, his hands moving quickly over Theo's wounds. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice low and fierce.

"Blaise—he—he—" Her words broke off into a sob, and Draco's eyes flashed with something dark and furious.

"Come on lets get him to my room" he ordered sharply, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. "Now."

Hermione nodded frantically, scrambling to her feet as Draco lifted Theo's limp form effortlessly. They moved quickly, rushing through the dim hallways until they burst into a large bedchamber filled with potions, books and medical supplies.

"Lay him down," Draco instructed, his voice tight. "We'll do everything we can."

Hermione hovered at the edge of the room, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. All she could do was watch, helpless, as Draco worked frantically to save Theo's life.

Draco worked tirelessly, his hands steady as he poured potions into Theo's mouth, his wand weaving intricate healing spells over the deep gash in his chest. The wound bled profusely, the dark magic embedded in it resisting every attempt to close it. He grit his teeth, forcing his magic to obey.

"Stay with me, Theo," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "Come on, mate, don't you dare—"

Theo lay deathly still, his face pale and drenched in sweat. Hermione stood just behind Draco, her fingers clenched so tightly into the fabric of her cloak that her knuckles were white. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes wide and haunted as she watched.

"Is—is he going to be okay?" she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word.

Draco didn't look at her. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I need to stabilize him first. The curse Blaise hit him with… it's eating away at his insides. It's designed to kill slowly."

Hermione let out a soft, strangled sound, her shoulders shaking as she pressed a hand to her mouth. Draco fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. There wasn't time for that. Not if he was going to save Theo.

"Vulnera Sanentur," he chanted again, the tip of his wand glowing a soft, pale blue as it passed over the wound. The blood flow slowed, the gaping tear in Theo's flesh knitting together ever so slightly.

Draco repeated the incantation three more times, his voice growing hoarse with the effort. He could feel his magic straining, the edges of his vision blurring from exhaustion, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wound sealed. Theo's breathing evened out, his chest rising and falling in shallow, steady breaths.

"He's… stable," Draco said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But—"

"But what?" Hermione stepped forward, her eyes wide and frantic. "What's wrong?"

Draco swallowed, his gaze fixed on Theo's still form. "He's in a coma," he murmured softly. "The damage was too severe. I had to put him under a stasis charm to give his body time to heal."

Hermione's face crumpled, a choked sob escaping her throat. "So… so he might never wake up?"

Draco clenched his jaw, his heart aching at the sight of her despair. "No," he said fiercely. "Hewillwake up. But it's going to take time."

A broken sound escaped her, half a sob, half a laugh. "Time," she whispered. "We don't havetime."

Draco reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over her shoulder. "He's strong, Hermione," he said softly. "He'll make it."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "But what if he doesn't?" she breathed. "What if—what if I—"

Draco frowned. "You saved him," he said quietly. "If you hadn't killed Blaise, he would have—"

"Ikilledhim," she interrupted, her voice breaking. "I—I killed Blaise, and I—"

Her words dissolved into a sob, and Draco acted on instinct, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. She stiffened for a moment, her breath hitching, and then she broke, collapsing against him as the sobs wracked her body.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, clutching at his robes. "I—I didn't mean to—I just—I couldn't let him die—"

"You did what you had to," Draco murmured, his voice soft and soothing as he held her. "You saved Theo's life."

"But I—" She shook her head frantically, her tears soaking into his shirt. "Blaise was—he was hisfriend, and I—"

Draco's jaw tightened, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. Blaise had been more than just Theo's friend. He'd been his everything. He could still remember the way Theo's eyes would light up when Blaise walked into a room, the way his entire demeanor would soften at the sound of Blaise's voice.

And now Blaise was dead. Killed by the very girl standing in his arms.

"Shh," he whispered, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back. "It's okay. It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," she cried, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Itis, and I—"

"Hermione, stop," Draco said firmly, pulling back just enough to cup her face in his hands. "You didn't have a choice. Blaise—he made his choice when he betrayed us. When he tried to kill Theo."

Her breath hitched, her gaze searching his desperately. "But Theolovedhim," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And I—"

"Love doesn't excuse betrayal," Draco said quietly. "You did what you had to do to protect someone you care about."

Hermione flinched at his words, her eyes widening. "I—I don't—"

"Yes, you do," Draco murmured, his gaze softening. "Theo is your friend. You care about him."

"I—" She swallowed hard, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "I just… I just wanted to protect him," she whispered. "I didn't mean to—"

"Youdidprotect him," Draco said fiercely. "You saved his life."

Her shoulders shook, her face crumpling. "But at what cost?" she whispered. "I—I killed him, and now Theo—"

"Will understand," Draco interrupted gently. "He'll forgive you."

A bitter, broken laugh escaped her. "And what about you?" she whispered. "Do you… do you forgive me?"

Draco's heart twisted painfully. Blaise had been his friend, too. His comrade, his partner in crime. But—

But he was also the one who had sold them out. The one who had betrayed everything they were fighting for. And Theo—

Theo was family. Blood or not, he was the closest thing Draco had to a brother.

"Yes," Draco said quietly, his gaze steady. "I forgive you."

Hermione's breath hitched, her eyes widening. "But—"

"No buts," Draco murmured, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You saved Theo's life. I could never hate you for that."

For a long moment, she just stared at him, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and anguish. And then, slowly, she nodded, her shoulders slumping in exhaustion.

"I'm tired," she whispered, her voice small and broken. "I'm so…tired, Draco."

His heart ached at the pain in her voice, and he pulled her close again, holding her tightly against his chest.

"I know," he murmured softly, his eyes closing as he rested his chin on top of her head. "But you can't give up. Not now."

"Why not?" she breathed. "Why should I keep fighting when everyone I love is—"

"Because you're stronger than you think," Draco said quietly. "And because Theo needs you."

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into his robes. "And… and you?"

Draco's breath caught, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. "Yes," he whispered. "And I need you too."

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other in the silence of the manor.

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Draco led Hermione out to the connecting room to the bed that Theo was laying in. He hesitated as they reached his door, his hand lingering on the knob. Theo needed rest, and this room was the safest place he could think of. Even Bellatrix stayed clear of this wing, dismissing it as the brooding quarters of a sullen teenager.

Hermione stepping inside of the room after him. Her gaze swept over the room—a strange blend of opulence and austerity. Heavy velvet curtains framed the large windows, casting long shadows across the dark wood furnishings.

A large wooden table was covered in various vials, rolls of bandages, and jars filled with potions and salves. There were several dark stains marring the wood—old blood, he realized with a grimace. The sight was unsettling, but he saw the moment understanding dawned in her eyes.

"Draco," she whispered, stepping closer to the table. "What—what is all this?"

He looked away, his jaw tightening. He hadn't meant for her to see it. His hands clenched at his sides, and he forced himself to answer.

"Supplies," he said flatly. "Healing potions, bandages… things like that."

Hermione turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. "Why do you have so many?"

Draco swallowed hard, his chest tightening. "Because I need them."

"For… yourself?" Her voice was small, tentative.

"Yes," he admitted quietly. "For myself."

A small, choked sound escaped her, and she reached out, her fingers hovering just over his arm. "But why?"

"Because I can't go to my mother," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor. "If she sees—if she knew—I… I can't let her worry more than she already does."

Hermione's breath hitched, and she took a step closer, her hand resting gently on his arm. "Draco," she whispered. "What are you talking about?"

He let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "You think it's all parties and plotting here, don't you?" he murmured, his voice low and raw. "That I sit around sipping tea and torturing Muggles for fun?"

Her face paled, but she didn't back away. "No, I—"

"I get punished, Hermione," he cut her off, his voice shaking. "I get punisheda lot. Every time I make a mistake. Every time I question an order. Every time—"

He stopped, swallowing hard as the memories surged forward. The Cruciatus curses, the stinging hexes, the agonizing burns and slashes that Voldemort would carve into his skin as a reminder of hisfailure. And every time, he would come back to this room, alone, and force himself to heal before his mother could see the damage.

"Why?" Hermione's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes wide and filled with horror. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"Who was I supposed to tell?" he asked bitterly. "My father? Bellatrix? They'd just say I deserved it. That it's what happens when you're notworthy."

"Worthy?" she repeated, her voice breaking. "Draco, you—"

"It doesn't matter," he muttered, turning away from her. "It's just… it's what it is. And I can handle it."

He heard her take a deep, shuddering breath behind him. "You shouldn'thaveto handle it," she whispered fiercely. "You shouldn't be going through this alone."

Draco closed his eyes, his heart aching at the pain in her voice. "But I am," he said softly. "And I always will be."

"No," she breathed, stepping closer until he could feel the warmth of her body against his back. "No, you're not alone. You—Draco, come back with me."

He stiffened, his eyes snapping open. "What?"

"Come back with me," she repeated, her voice urgent and trembling. "Leave this place. Come back to the Order. Be safe."

Draco turned slowly to face her, disbelief warring with something far more dangerous—hope. "Hermione, I—"

"Please," she whispered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Please, Draco. I don't want you to suffer like this. I don't want you to—"

"Hermione," he said softly, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," she insisted, her hands reaching out to grip his. "You can come with me. We'll protect you. I'll protect you."

He stared at her, his mind racing. She was serious. She was asking him to leave everything—to abandon his family, his past, his very identity.

But… she was offering something else, too. Something he hadn't dared to hope for.

She was offeringherself.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Why would you—"

"Because I—" She hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly, and then she squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. "Because Icareabout you, Draco. Because I—Ifeelsomething for you, and I don't want to lose you."

His heart stuttered in his chest, shock flooding through him. "You—what?"

"Ifeelsomething," she repeated softly, her fingers tightening around his. "I don't know what it is, and I know this is insane, but I—Ineedyou to come back with me."

Draco stared at her, his mind spinning. She… shefeltsomething for him. She cared. Abouthim. The truth of it hit him like a Bludger to the chest, knocking the breath out of him.

"Hermione," he breathed, his voice shaking. "You don't—you don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do," she insisted, her gaze fierce and unwavering. "I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm saying that I want you to be safe. That I want youwith me."

He closed his eyes, his chest tight with a painful, unfamiliar emotion. "Hermione, if I leave—if I abandon everything I've ever known—"

"You'll be free," she whispered. "You'll besafe. And—and maybe, just maybe, we can figure out… whatever this is."

His eyes snapped open, locking onto hers. She looked up at him, her gaze wide and pleading, her face pale and tear-streaked. And for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt truly vulnerable.

He wanted to say yes. Merlin, hewantedto. But—

"I can't," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I can't just leave my mother."

"Then bring her with you," she pleaded, her eyes desperate. "We'll protect her, too. Draco, please—"

"I can't," he repeated, his heart aching. "Not yet."

Hermione's face crumpled, a sob escaping her. "Then promise me," she begged, her fingers clutching his robes. "Promise me you'll stay safe. Promise me you'll—"

"I promise," he whispered, his hands shaking as he cupped her face. "I promise, Hermione."

And then, before he could think better of it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, the touch brief and gentle.

She froze, her breath hitching, and he pulled back quickly, his heart racing.

"I'll stay safe," he whispered,

Her gaze softened, her eyes shining with a mixture of hope and heartbreak. "And when this is all over?" she asked softly. "Will you—"

"When this is over," he murmured, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips, "we'll see."

It wasn't a promise. But it was something.

And for now, it would have to be enough.