A Lie For You, A Lie For Me.

A shaking hand reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow, smearing a bit of blood on her forehead. Hermione's chocolate brown eyes were fixed on the limp figure sitting on the floor in front of her. In the castle, she hadn't realized who she'd grabbed. He'd blocked a spell from hitting her, whether it was unknowingly or on purpose, she was unsure. But now, seeing who it was, she was willing to bet it had been unknowingly. Pushing herself off her bum, she reached down to the black jacket, lined with green silk, and began to unbutton it. She ripped it open, and proceeded to rip open the white button up shirt underneath the assess the damage. Her lip quivered slightly as she caught sight of the large, bloody wound on his side caused from the spell. It was bad.

Her eyes drifted up to his face again. His usually pale skin, was an even more ghostly shade of white. His eyes, unmoving, had a slight purple tint around them. The only thing that told her he wasn't dead, besides the steady beating of his heart, was the layer of sweat collecting on his forehead, causing his placid blond bangs to stick to his skin. He was unconscious, unmoving, unable to yell for the 'mudblood' to get her hands off of him.

Taking in a deep breath to steady her thoughts, Hermione pulled herself up to her feet quickly, and turned, hurrying to her bedroom. She grabbed a bag off of her desk, and went back to the living room where he lie, bleeding all over her carpet. She set the bag down beside him, kicked off her shoes, and ripped the little tiara that Ginny had insisted she wear out of her hair, thoroughly messing up the nice updo Ginny had given her earlier that day.

She got down on her knees beside him, and ripped open the leather bag, which very much resembled the bags doctors use. She started pulling out vials, reading the labels, until she found one she wanted.

She treated his wound, force-fed him potions, until she'd done everything she could do. Even so, she could see that the wound looked like it was already beginning to heal, though being dark magic, it would surely take a few days, rather than a few hours. She bandaged his side finally, and sat with her back against the arm of the couch, on the floor staring at him, heaving a sigh. "Merlin, what a mess that turned out to be.." she muttered to herself.

She had known from the beginning the ball would turn out badly. First of all, she'd had to force Ron to go. And when she found out the wards on the grounds were being taken down to allow people to apparate right onto the grounds, she swore they were mental. But she'd gone anyways, and surely enough, the ball had barely started when the Death Eaters had shown up.

The Death Eaters that hadn't been spotted in months, who had been laying low, apparently waiting for their chance to strike. She wondered how many people had been hurt, and if any had been killed. But surely the situation had been handled. There weren't many Death Eaters left willing to fight for Voldemort, who was utterly, and completely, dead.

"Ugh, what the bloody hell."

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of his soft, raspy voice, laced with pain and confusion. She watched his gray eyes flicker open, and wince when he tried to move.

"Don't move, you're hurt pretty badly."

She spoke, surprising the blond. His eyebrows furrowed, and he turned his head in her direction. She saw a flicker of anger, and he ignored her, forcing himself into a half sitting position.

"What the hell, Granger. Where are we?"

He asked her. She frowned, pulled herself to her feet once again, and moving over to her bag, replacing vials and everything she'd taken out of it.

"My flat in London. You were hit by a stray spell, right in the side. I didn't know what else to do, so I brought you here to fix you up."

She told him, watching as he eyed the bandage on his side, but she couldn't keep her eyes off of his bare chest, smeared with a bit of his blood. She averted her eyes, however, when he looked up to examine the flat. It was much bigger than a normal flat, as big as a nice sized house inside.

"This doesn't look like a flat."

He commented, his eyebrows furrowing as she zipped up the bag, and set it on the coffee table.

"It's not. I expanded it with magic."

She told him. Finally, his eyes landed on her. She had his blood smeared on her hands, her forehead, and sadly, the pretty dress Ginny had made especially for her. But, with a little magic, it should come right out.

"You're welcome to stay the night, if you like. It's late, and I don't think you probably have the energy to be apparating." she offered. He seemed to mull over the idea in his head, before he spoke.

"And, am I sleeping on the floor? Because, if that's the case, I think I'd risk attempting to apparate." he drawled, a slight smirk twitching at his pale lips, that were drained of all color from the blood loss.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you prat, I was going to transfigure the couch into a bed for you, if you accepted." she said, pulling her wand out.

"What's wrong with you bed?" he asked, his eyes raking over her form noticeably. Even covered in blood, she was pretty sexy. He'd come to realize this over time, and even in such a state, he had to comment, if only to make her uncomfortable. But to his disappointment, she didn't seem too bothered by the question.

"It's taken." she told him, flicking her wand at the couch. The back of the couch bent back, while the arms bent out. It stretched, and snapped into place once it'd form a nice queen sized bed, which, in the spacious room, fit just fine.

"Not bad." Draco commented, while he attempted to get up. A pain shot through his side, causing him to grunt and nearly fall back down. Two strong pairs of hands gripped his arm, however, and kept him upright. He looked at Hermione, before shaking her off once he'd gained his balance. "I'm fine." he muttered, too stubborn to let her help him anymore than she already had.

Hermione just rolled her eyes, watching him peel off his blood jacket, and shirt. He kicked his shoes off, and began undoing his belt, while Hermione stood there stupidly, watching his hands work. That is, until he cleared his throat, and her eyes snapped up to meet his, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. "You mind?" he asked, raising a slightly amused brow.

"No, I just wanted to make sure you got to bed alright. But I can see you're just fine, so, goodnight." she said, grabbing her bag, and hurrying to her bedroom. She barely heard his chuckle, but she did hear the sound of his belt hitting the floor, with his pants, she was sure, before the bed creaked as he climbed into it, and settled in for the night.