bigger than us [dramione]

two

HERMIONE CRIED OUT in agony as she collapsed onto the grass, her able hand flying instantly up to clutch her wounded arm. Searing pain, as though she had been sliced open by a blunt knife and the raw skin beneath had been branded by a burning-hot iron, throbbed at her shoulder, almost blinding her.

She knew what had happened; Hermione had been splinched. Though she had no alternative, she should have realised that apparating with such a fresh injury was incredibly dangerous. Thankfully it was only her arm that appeared to be damaged. Swallowing a second cry of pain, Hermione grabbed blindly at her pocket until she managed to dig out her wand and aimed it in the general direction of her bag.

"Accio Dittany!" She managed to splutter out. Half a second later, a whistling sound filled the air and a small vial landed in her hand.

Still clutching her wand, Hermione choked out a sob as she attempted to twist open the bottle to retrieve the dropper. Alas, with one hand immobile, it was proving incredibly difficult to perform any sort of twisting motion to open the cap.

"Let me—" a low voice grumbled.

Hermione gasped in shock, her eyes snapping suddenly open and her pain being momentarily forgotten. Draco Malfoy stood mere feet from where she had collapsed on the ground, panting just as he had been in the cave. With a new-found rush of strength, Hermione scrambled to her feet and raised her wand.

"Grang—" Malfoy hardly managed to stammer Hermione's name before the panic in her chest urged her to stun him.

"Stupefy!" She cried out. A red jet of light struck Malfoy's chest half a second later, sending his body rigid and collapsing into the grass.

Hermione followed suit almost instantly after, falling to the ground and using her feet to hold the bottle of dittany still while she unscrewed the dropper with her left hand. She pinched the top carefully, drawing a suitable amount of liquid into the stem and, with a shaky hand, brought it toward her burning shoulder. Hermione drew a deep breath, bracing herself for the pain, before shutting her eyes and squeezing it out onto the wound.

She let out a terrible cry, the pain of her skin pulling itself back together almost too much to bear. But she needed more. Drawing upon the strength she knew she had, Hermione pulled more dittany into the dropper and tried her best to remain quiet as she let it fall onto her wounds, mending what damage the splinching had done.

When she was done, Hermione screwed the dropper back in place and shoved the bottle in her bag — still, however, her original injury remained. She could feel the unease in her shoulder; the way it had shifted when she fell, knocking it out of place. She needed to push it back in. She brought her hand up to her shoulder, wrapping it around the bone and wiggling gently at first so as to feel where it might need to be moved to. Hermione drew another breath — she would need it more this time — and let her eyes flutter shut before she pushed hard and fast. She whimpered at the pain, though it only lasted a mere moment before she finally felt at ease.

That feeling was only momentary, however, as Hermione was quickly struck back to reality when she allowed her head to fall to the side and caught a glimpse of blonde hair a few feet away.

What was she going to do with Malfoy? He lay immobile on the grass, stupefied with that hideous scowl frozen on his face and his wand in hand. Hermione had a thousand questions racing through her mind. Would he disapparate them back to the forest to hand her over to the Death Eaters? Even worse, would he take them to Malfoy Manor and deliver her to Voldemort himself? But if he was going to turn her in, why hadn't he done so when she was injured and unarmed? Why had he just stood and watched as she healed herself? Moreover, why did he seem so afraid of the other Death Eaters in the forest?