Savior

For a moment he was still, her voice still reverberating through his skull as the weight of her words sunk in. His body relaxed against hers, his eyes searching the depths of hers for any hidden layer. He felt the quirk of a smile play at his lips as the realization of her decision hit him. She wasn’t begging him because she feared, she wasn’t begging him because she wanted him to let her go. She was begging him because he asked her to, because she wanted to.

His lips danced before hers, waiting, taunting, until she could take no more. And then, as if he himself couldn’t control it anymore, he brought his mouth to hers, capturing her senses as he claimed her lips, branding her as his for all time.

She found her hands gripping his shirt, tearing at it with her nails as his lips worked their way down over her jaw, trailing along her neck, whispering along her collarbone, inhaling her scent as he did so. His hands traveled over her shoulders, sliding between her back and the wall to rest just below her waist, splaying there over her as she arched into his embrace, her legs wrapping around his waist in an effort to move further into him. He stumbled backwards, his back hitting the stone behind him, bringing them full force back into the reality they lived in. Their eyes snapped open, both staring with horror and terror of what they were to do next.

Hermione slowly unwound her legs and slid down his body, so she stood pressed against him, her hands resting gently against his chest, her eyes boring up into his, waiting. Their breathing came fast, their chests rising and falling heavily against one another’s. As Hermione watched, she saw a decision being made, saw Draco’s brain fighting for something as intangible as air. And then, she saw a change. She saw the decision made as he changed from being rash, and free, to being as cold and lifeless as he was on the day she met him.

His arms dropped to his sides, his face moving into an unreadable mask, his eyes freezing over with an iciness she had never seen in him before tonight. It was now that she realized that she couldn’t fight with him. She couldn’t argue with years and years of culture and Pureblood breeding that was as much a part of him now as it was when he still respected it.

She dropped her hands. His eyes lowered as he squared his jaw, as if preparing for battle. He turned his head away, his eyes searching for something, anything, to focus on other than the woman before him. Hermione moved away, moved to leave, but as she did, something made her freeze. Malfoy’s intake of breath made her turn back, made her search for something in him that hadn’t been there before. She stepped back into the hollow shell he had become and looked up into his eyes. Without realizing it, she let her hand travel up to his cheek, turning him to face her. “Look at me.” Slowly, his eyes found hers. There was such sadness there, such malice for something of which he had no control. Cautiously, she rose up on her toes, her body barely brushing against his, and touched her lips gently to his. He groaned from deep within his chest, the sound guttural and uncontrolled as his lips moved against hers.

She pulled away, the bittersweet taste in her mouth refusing to fade. His lips parted as she moved beyond his reach. Their eyes were locked but the sparkle from before had left. It had been replaced by a sorrow, a gloom that even she could not comprehend. “Close your eyes.” Her voice was gentle, soft, and he obeyed without thought.

She felt the tears streaming down her cheeks, felt her throat close as she choked back the sobs she longed to release from their prison. She ran at him, throwing herself at him, her lips crashing to his one last time, relishing in the feel of his arms around her, breathing in his scent, rejoicing in the smooth, silky texture of his hair as it ran through her fingers. And then it was gone. All the senses, all the temptations running through her body fled, and his presence was no longer felt. She opened her eyes, and found herself entirely alone, the alcove all but black in the gloom of the evening.

Wandering back to the Gryffindor Tower, Hermione’s thoughts ran rampant. There was no conclusion to be drawn from this experience, no reasoning to be discovered. Not with years of therapy would she ever be able to find the source of the power she had felt in that small enclosure. For a moment, it had seemed that they were the only two people in the world, all time freezing around them, if only for a moment. Suddenly, Hermione was filled with complete and utter assurance that she would carry that feeling with her for the rest of her life. No matter the cost.

~*~

It was morning, and breakfast was atrocious, Hermione had decided. The eggs were cold, the bacon fatty, and the toast was burnt. Harry and Ron took no notice of this, seeing as how they were hyped up about the impending Quidditch match against Slytherin. Hermione couldn’t be dreading it more. She didn’t know where she stood now. Quite often, she had caught herself glancing at the Slytherin table, searching for the telltale platinum head of hair, her eyes gluing themselves to that vision of gold.

“Hermione? Hermione?” Ron was saying something to her. She should probably turn away from the Slytherins and listen to what he was saying. . .probably, but not likely. “Hermione!” Her head snapped to Ron, her hair flying about her, whipping Harry’s face in her hurry.

“What is it Ronald?!” Her hands gripped the table, her eyes flashing.

“I wanted to know why you were glaring over at the Slytherins? Has something happened that Harry and I should know about? Was it Malfoy?” Ron’s tone was so patronizing and so beyond that of concern that Hermione grew very irritated, very fast.

“No Ronald, nothing has happened, no it wasn’t Malfoy, and I can glare at whomever I like without you having to know about it! So if you please, I’m going to go back to Gryffindor and try to wash out the taste of cold eggs and fatty bacon, if you wouldn’t mind!” With that, she stood, forcing the bench away from the table, making everyone stand with her. “Excuse me.” She stepped over the bench, noted that everyone in the Great Hall was watching, grabbed her bag and stormed down the isle and out the doors, giving them a good slam as she closed them.

Ron turned to Harry as the doors slammed shut, a look of bewilderment broadcast across his features. “What the bloody hell was that all about?”

“I have no idea.” Harry turned his head towards the exit of the Great Hall, a cacophony of thoughts crowding his brain as the possibilities abounded.

~*~

The common room was quiet. Everyone had left and gone off to the Quidditch pitch for the match. Hermione was the only one left. She felt bad about not wanting to go to the game, but at the same time, she was filled with a dread she hadn’t felt in a long time. She couldn’t quite place it, but she felt it all the same. Still, she wrapped her Gryffindor scarf around her, pulled on her boots, and went out to face the music.

Little did she know the amount of music she’d be facing.. . .

~*~

Malfoy had been in a foul mood all morning. His food had been sour, his clothes wrinkled. And now, he had to contend with the fact that he couldn’t Hermione bloody Granger out of his mind. Life just didn’t seem particularly fair in this instance, especially with Quidditch to think about and not some brilliant, silky-haired, smooth-skinned, doe-eyed. . .no, stupid, bushy-haired, dull-eyed, filthy mudblood. Yes, that’s what he thought of her. . .now why exactly did he feel bad about thinking that about her?

“Malfoy! You coming or what?!” He glanced up to see Blaise snapping at him to hurry up. He finished tying up his laces, grabbed his broom, and headed out. It was time to teach those Gryffindors a lesson or two.

~*~

The crowds were cheering, the Quaffle was flying, the Bludgers soaring, and still, the Snitch was nowhere to be seen. Even Harry was having trouble finding it. Hermione watched in anticipation as the players flew across the field. And then she saw it. It was floating harmlessly in the air, just beyond the stands. And then she heard someone cry out, “Harry!” Then she realized that it was her who had cried out. And then Harry was zooming towards her; his body crouched low over his broomstick, his face set with determination. She was smiling as he soared closer and closer, the distance between him ad the Snitch growing smaller and smaller with every second.

~*~

He heard someone call out, louder than the others, and turned towards the voice. It was Granger, and she was calling to Potter, and he was moving towards the Snitch. Malfoy turned his broom and sped off, his eyes narrowing on the small golden ball as he grew closer.

Then he heard the sound of a bat hitting a bludger, and it was much closer than it should have been. He turned his head to the left, and found himself staring right at the dark grey of a bludger, barreling straight towards him. He had only the time of one thought, and that thought was full of only Granger and how stupid she was going think he was after she found out he’d let himself get hit with a bludger, of all things. And then everything went black.

~*~

Hermione saw it before it happened. She saw the Slytherin Seeker coming in, saw his flash of platinum hair, and then she saw the bludger. She saw the realization dawn on Malfoy’s face, and then she saw him falling. Oh, he was falling so fast. Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione was running, faster than she’d ever run, down the winding stairs of the stadium, through the faculty doors, and out onto the field. She saw him laying there, his body at an awkward angle, and she almost panicked. She drew her wand without question, and found herself kneeling at his side, gingerly turning him over, laying him on his back, checking to make sure he was all right.

“Malfoy? Malfoy, can you hear me?” Nothing was broken, that she could tell, but he needed to get to the hospital wing. Something might have been damaged internally and she had no way of knowing that. Frantically, she looked around her, and saw that no one but her had seen Malfoy fall. No one was coming to help. She was on completely on her own.

She saw his broomstick hovering close by, waiting to be ridden, and a thought dawned. Carefully, she waved her wand over him, making him levitate with no difficulty, and guided him over to his broom. Painstakingly, Hermione mounted the broom, balancing Malfoy in front of her, and gently raised the broom into the air. They flew slowly but surely back to the castle and landed without incident in the courtyard before the Great Hall. It was only moments before they were in the Hospital Wing when she heard something.

“Granger, I do believe I can walk, thank you.” She nearly jumped, and when she turned, she found him staring devilishly at her from his hovering position, a playful smirk toying with his features.

“How long have you been awake?” Her hands found their way to her hips, where they rested quite satisfactorily as she looked down at him.

“Since you managed to manhandle my broom in a broom closet about 10 feet back. . .” He grinned openly, knowing that his toying with her had mad her quite cross, and that stopping now would only make matters worse.

She took one last disgruntled look at him before dropping him unceremoniously on the floor where he landed with a rather un-princely ‘plop’ and an ‘umph’ on his bottom. Satisfied, Hermione slipped her wand into her pocket and pouted. “You really should learn to be more courteous to the people who help you in life, Malfoy. Without them you’ll get no where.”

He looked up at her from his ungraceful position on the floor, and moped. “Did you happen to notice the fact that I just fell from a rather high distance after being hit by a bludger just minutes ago? Or were you too busy chastising me to care?” His mood had just sunk to a lower level of sour, and Granger was not helping. He glared at her a moment longer before realizing that he had let his scowl transform into a rather goofy grin. As this dawned on him, he noticed that Granger’s bitter demeanor had begun to crack as well, and before they knew what was happening, they were beside themselves with laughter and hysterics. Unfortunately for Malfoy, a pain in his side made him suddenly freeze, gasping in agony. Clutching his side, he fell back to the stones, his head hitting them hard.

“Malfoy?” Such concern. He’d never heard someone speak with such concern before. As he opened his eyes, he saw something he didn’t expect to see. Hermione Granger was kneeling over him, her eyes full with such alarm, such panic that all he could do was stare. Then her hands were on his face, clutching him closer. “Malfoy! Are you all right? Malfoy, can you hear me?!”

He gasped again, bright spots of light flashing before his eyes, the pain in his lungs growing ever worse. And then there was nothing. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. “I. . .I can’t breathe!” He gasped again, the pain exploding as he tried to force air into his lungs, but nothing was getting through. He could feel the panic setting in, the rush of fear overwhelming his senses as he began to fade. Suddenly he was clutching her arms, grasping at her cloak, trying to breathe, trying to live. Then he heard footsteps, rushing boot heels, hurried words, screaming voices. All the while, all he could see as his vision faded to black was an apparition of Hermione Granger never leaving his side. And then he saw no more.

~*~

Hermione sat quietly by the window of the Girl’s Dorm. Everyone was whispering about what had happened at Quidditch. All the girls were huddled together on one bed, their voices carrying more venom than Hermione thought possible.

“I heard that she wouldn’t leave his side!”

“No, really?!”

“Really!”

“Well I heard that they’ve been seeing each other in secret. That they’ve been hiding from everyone!”

“That’s disgusting! Doesn’t she know who he is?!”

“Of course I know who he is! That doesn’t change the fact that he was hurt today because of a stupid Quidditch match! Regardless to who he is or where he’s come from, he is still under the protection of this school and until he isn’t, he deserves the same treatment as everyone else! I’m not seeing him in secret, I’m not hiding anything from anyone! I just so happen to be the only person in this entire House that seems to care a damn about other people! Gryffindor my arse!” Hermione stormed out of the dorm and down into the commonroom. Harry and Ron were crouched together by the fire, speaking heatedly about something. Feeling the color rise in her cheeks, she walked straight up to them and began her tirade all over again. “No I’m not seeing him! No, I don’t care what people think of me, and NO I’M HIDING ANYTHING! I WISH YOU PEOPLE WOULD JUST LEAVE THINGS WELL ENOUGH ALONE!” With that, she threw up her hands and walked away, shoved the portrait open, and walked out into the dark halls of the castle.

A bewildered Harry and Ron stood shell-shocked for a moment before hurried footsteps sounded on the stairs. They turned to find the entire Girl’s Dormitory flooding down the stairs and spilling into the commonroom. When they saw Harry and Ron’s faces, they all froze, guilt plastered over their features.

“What the bloody hell did you do to Hermione?” Harry placed his hands on his hips and glared at them all. Ron didn’t know what to do, so he just copied Harry’s stance and glared. They made quite a pair, standing there like a couple of Peter Pans ready to fight off any Captain Hook that stood in their way.

“We didn’t do anything. . .we were just gossiping. . .and I think. . .well I think Parvati offended her.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes you did! You were insinuating that she was sleeping around with Malfoy! What girl wouldn’t be offended by something like that?!”

“You were going along with it!”

This outburst started a cacophony of voices all sounding at once about how Malfoy was this and Malfoy was that, how Hermione was an idiot for NOT wanting him, how Hermione WAS an idiot for dating him. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, at the group of girls, at the other boys in the commonroom, back to each other, and then all quietly and discreetly, crept out the portrait and then ran as fast as they could for the Great Hall.

~*~

The Hospital Wing was dark and cold. No one was there, the only sign of life being the candle lit on the table by the door. He woke to the darkness, no one around him, nothing there to give him any sign that he was in fact alive. He tried to sit up, but a pain in his chest made him freeze, and then he remembered the Quidditch match. His head hit the pillow as he rubbed his eyes. He groaned inwardly at what the Slytherins would say about this later. And then his silence and self-loathing was interrupted.

“Mr. Malfoy! I’m glad to see you’re awake. Now, if you wouldn’t mind drinking this.” Madame Pomfrey thrust a glass of some awful looking potion in his face. He took it wordlessly and gulped it down, the bitter taste making bile rise in his throat. “No, don’t spit it out. This is the only thing keeping you from drowning at the moment, so do please drink up.”

He’d never swallowed so fast in his life. “Drowning?!”

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy. When Miss Granger brought you in you had a collapsed lung, it was filling with fluid. We were lucky to have caught it in time. You were very fortunate earlier to have had someone like Miss Granger looking out for you. I’m terrified to think what might have happened had she not gotten to you when she did. I do believe you owe her your very life. Now, I expect you to behave for the next few days. You’ll be released tomorrow, but I want to see you in here every evening for your treatment. Is that clear, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Yes, Madame Pomfrey.” Draco nodded solemnly as he thought about what all this meant. He couldn’t help but feel that some how, some way he had made a grievous error in the past few days. He sat in silence as Madame Pomfrey bustled back to her office, her skirts ruffling as she went.

The silence now was blissful, the absolute absence of sound a gift for his straining senses. Closing his eyes, he let the silence overwhelm him, his mind overflowing with thoughts of the past hour, the past week, the past year. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything he’d been taught, everything he’d been shown, been told to follow, it all seemed meaningless now. All he had in his head was a vision of Granger hovering over him as if her life depended on it, as if her very existence hung on his own.

~*~

The library was quiet at this time of day. It was late in the afternoon and all the students had already left or had canceled all plans of coming completely. Hermione found she liked this time of day best. The silence helped her to think, helped her to better organize her thoughts coherently.

Wandering through the stacks she found that she suddenly wanted to be somewhere else entirely. Not really concentrating on where she was going, she left the library. She wandered down the halls, around corners, past empty classrooms. She found her way to the Great Hall, where the entire Boys Dormitory from Gryffindor was gathered around a table chattering about something. As she was turning to leave, Harry caught her eye.

“Hermione!” He jumped up and ran to her. “What was going on with you earlier today? We’d thought you’d gone barking mad!” There was genuine concern plastered to his features.

“No, Harry, I haven’t gone mad. The girls had just really gotten to me is all. Nothing to worry about.” Hermione shook her head and yawned. “I think I’ll go to bed. It’s really been a rather tiring day. Good night Harry.” With that she turned on her heel and walked blearily out of the Great Hall and through the corridors of the castle. With no real intent to, she found herself outside the Hospital Wing.

‘Well that’s odd, I don’t know what I’d want to do here. . .’ Her hand hovered over the door handle, her thoughts running rampant. ‘Might as well find out.’ She opened the door and took a step in. The silence that welcomed her was suffocating. The room was entirely empty, devoid of any sign of life. But then she heard it. It wasn’t a loud noise, or even a distinguishable noise. It was just a rustle, and Hermione’s eyes scanned the room as her ears tried to hear every sound possible. And then she saw it. In the last bed in the corner there was someone there, and there was only one person that it could be.

“Malfoy?” It was barely a whisper, but she knew she’d made a mistake as soon as the name left her lips. He stirred, his body reacting to what his brain hadn’t registered yet. ‘Well, no turning back now.’ She moved further into the room, letting the door slide silently shut behind her. Walking slowly, she made her way towards his bed, not really knowing what exactly she was doing. When she reached his bed, she sat soundlessly next to him, waiting for him to wake. When he didn’t, she had the sudden urge to shake him until he did, but quelled it as pain crossed his features in his slumber. Without thought or reservation, she placed her hand on his own, willing him to wake. She squeezed his wrist and waited, her breathing slowing until the only sound in the room was that of the wind passing through the hallowed halls. What seemed like hours passed, nothing changing, her eyes never leaving his face. Then, as if someone had screamed, he bolted upright, his hand flying to her throat, pulling her against him hard.

Hermione’s eyes snapped shut, complete and utter fear overwhelming her senses as she tried to calm herself. His grip on her throat tightened, her breathing becoming more and more difficult with ever passing second. And then suddenly there was no pressure at all. She collapsed back on the bed, her body sagging with an unknown burden as air returned to her lungs. She opened her eyes. What she found before her was the most horrifying image she had ever seen. “Malfoy?” He had shied away from her, his body curling into the back of the bed, his hands turning white as they grasped the bars of the headboard. He shook with some unidentified fear, some untraceable pain.

Hermione moved forward on the bed, placing her body directly behind his own. When she got there, she didn’t know exactly what to do, so she waited. She waited for what seemed to be forever, and then, when she least expected it, he stilled. His body froze, and it was then that she knew what to do. Slowly, she let her hand travel over his arm to his own hands. Softly unwinding them from the bars, she pulled him in. She brought him into her embrace and held him as he slowly, ever so slowly, fell into a dreamless sleep. Leaning her head against his own, she let her eyes drift closed, and let blissful slumber take her in.

~*~

AN: So...what do'ya think??