𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

☾ Chapter 20

☾

Parvati had returned from an interrogation covered in bruises.

What happens when the healer is the one in need of healing?

It seemed Hermione was the only one without bruises at this point. All of hers had faded, and an interrogation hadn't taken place in what felt like months.

Half of her felt grateful, while the other half felt like dead weight. A waste of air.

They weren't using her anyways; what was the point of keeping her?

She spent the morning braiding her curls while wrapped under the black blanket given to her by the enemy. With Ginny's current hatred towards her no training could occur, so she simply sat on the mattress, whether it be curled in a ball, sprawled out like a starfish or face planting on it's surface out of boredom.

Waiting for those flashing red numbers was the only thing that soothed the tension in her bones. She had taken comfort in him, and she could only pray he had done the same.

Daylight quickly faded into darkness, the others tucking into bed as Hermione lay waiting.

She sat up at the sound of his approaching footsteps. Whenever he would arrive she felt something blossom in her chest, a feeling of warmth.

A flame.

She mentally sighed in relief when he didn't tie her wrists, just simply coaxing her outside onto the pathway.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Hermione asked, keeping her loose wrists closed over her chest at the reminder of his words. If she were to make another mistake with her freedom she knew he would happily take it away again.

"I told you to drop it, Granger," he mumbled, lowering his black leather mask with a sigh before pulling her closer to him by the arm. The brown satchel dangled by his side, glistening moonstone always catching her eye as it swung from the side of his journal.

"But-"

"Drop it," his tone grew dangerously quiet, like an instinctive warning. Of course, she wouldn't listen. A warning couldn't prevent her from asking a ridiculous amount of questions, solely out of curiosity.

"But you said you weren't using me, and that what we did was real," she pleaded, desperate to understand the difficulty in his expression of emotion. It was becoming difficult to see the difference between his honesty and his lies. "Then again, you did call it a mistake..."

"Don't do this right now, Granger," he pressed, grip around her arm growing tighter every word she spoke, turning her to face him in the darkness of the night.

"Please... Why won't you talk to me?"

The snap of a tree branch cut her pleads short.

They fell silent as a low growl echoed down the winding path, a pair of glowing purple eyes emerging in the distance.

"What is that-"

"Shut up," he hissed, taking her by the hand, "Don't make a sound."

The growling replayed louder this time; Hermione recognized it as a wolf's growl. After her encounter with Professor Lupin's wolf form in third year, her fear of the beasts had never quite disappeared.

Leading her behind a large tree, he tried to keep the crunching of the forest floor beneath their feet to a minimum. He held her incredibly protectively, so close she could feel his lungs inhaling and exhaling at his every breath.

It's long tail whipped against the base of a nearby tree with a sharp crack; Hermione let out a whimper and his hand clasped over her mouth.

"Shhh," Draco whispered gently, a poor attempt at soothing her worry.

It's luminescent eyes continued to taunt the pathway, leaving large animal paw prints in the cold frozen mud. An agonizingly loud howl left it's mouth, forcing her to grab at his collar, cowardly burying her face in his shirt.

His free hand slowly reached to his wand pocket; the beast was so close they could hear the sniffing of it's nostrils in the crisp morning air.

It turned away.

The footsteps began to fade into the opposing side of the forest, Draco cradling her head to his heart until he was sure the wolf was far enough away they wouldn't be torn to shreds.

"Because, I hate the way I feel around you," he exclaimed lowly, nearly a whisper as her eyes peeked up from his chest, "That's why I won't talk to you. You—you make me feel things. I despise you for it."

Hermione was aching with leftover adrenaline; as she stared into his softened grey eyes she could only think of one possible way to rid the feeling.

Melting into his touch she leaned upwards, standing on the tips of her toes before planting a kiss to his lips, hands still trembling with fear as they raked through his blonde locks.

It was softer this time, almost childlike. The calm that comes before the storm.

His cheeks blossomed with a deep shade of crimson when she pulled away, arms still looped around his neck.

"I'm scared," Hermione whispered, "What if it comes back?"

He let out a soft breath, allowing his hands to wander back toward her jaw, brushing his thumbs over her cheekbones.

It was barely audible, something only she could hear.

"I'll protect you. I promise."

She nodded into his palms, placing her hands over his before shutting her eyes with a defeated sigh.

"C'mon, Granger," he murmured against the crown of her head, leading her out from behind the tree, "We have to go."

She never wanted the moment to end.

............

Under his protection, with little to no interrogations, her health appointment had been quite boring.

Slughorn had run her diagnostics, allowed her to shower and replenished Draco's sleeping pills; after only twenty minutes, they were back on the early morning road.

"You could've tamed it, couldn't you? Why did we hide? I thought you were good with animals," Hermione asked him quietly.

The reminiscing fear of the wolf had caused her to wrap her arms around his bicep the moment the Health Center was out of sight, huddling close to his warmth for the duration of the walk back to the cell.

"In that specific species, wolves with purple eyes are recognized as rabid. I didn't want to kill it in front of you," Draco muttered. His arm had fallen asleep at her tight grip, but he didn't seem to mind.

"What do you think, I'm not capable of watching death?" She scoffed, "If it's rabid, it could be hurting others at this moment. That would be your fault-"

"It could've hurt you," Draco snarled under his breath, tongue as sharp as his wits, "That statement was quite Hufflepuff of you, Granger."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she fell silent, resting her tired skull on the side of his shoulder.

She'd practically fallen asleep against him when they reached the bleak concrete block. He hoisted her over his shoulder before walking inside with a simple swish of his wand.

Soft snores echoed inside; the others weren't awake.

"Goodnight, Granger," he whispered against her skin before laying her down on the cushiony mattress, pulling the knit black blanket over her shivering body.

He tucked a curl behind her ear, admiring the freckles on her nose before walking away, locking the door behind him.

But she was watching.

Ginny's eyes were peering at him from beneath her blanket.

Proof.

☾