The Internal Devices

Chapter 25

Draco landed in Munich cradling Hermione in his arms and almost passed out from the strain. He knew he shouldn't have attempted such a lengthy apparition but he had panicked. Munich was the first place he thought of due to their prior conversation. Thankfully, they were alone at this early hour, stashed away in an alley; even so, he gently placed her on the ground and set up a dozen wards.

Finished with the protective enchantments, he dropped to his knees beside her and cast a cleaning spell. He couldn't see anything with all the blood covering her, and the sight of it brought a rage he had never felt before. He was working on autopilot, completely fueled by a fury he couldn't quite understand. He initiated a diagnostic test over her and growled at the damage it displayed. Twenty-seven reopened incisions losing blood along her torso. Two broken ribs from the impact. A slight concussion. Four jagged slices down her legs; she had been splinched from the last apparition. He punched the stone wall savagely before taking several deep breaths, shakily dragging his hand through his hair. Think, Draco.

He hurried over to Hermione's limp body and leaned over her mouth. There it was–a slight rasp of breath. She was still breathing. She was breathing.

Draco carefully thrust his fingers into her charmed trouser pocket before mentally slapping himself. Idiot. He pulled his hand out and grabbed his wand before pointing at the pocket.

"Accio essence of dittany." Thankfully, a vial flew into his hand. He pointed his wand again.

"Accio blood replenisher." The potion dropped into his fingers. Draco hadn't been sure Hermione had packed any, but was banking on her being as overprepared as always. He chuckled darkly at the vials in his hand. She was such a swot. Draco moved her arms away from her torso and vanished her shirt and trousers. As delicately as possible, he pressed essence of dittany into each wound and poured the blood replenisher down her throat. When he was finished he glared at the wounds, still leaking blood.

Next, he laid a cooling charm on the back of her skull, hoping to dull the pain from her concussion. Healing that particular injury would have to wait until Madam Pomfrey could take a look at it. Glancing at the diagnostic test again, he forced himself to calm down. There was no brain damage, just a small knot. The incisions slowly pulled themselves together, and the adrenaline was leaking out of him, now replacing the anger with fear. With shaking hands, he knelt over Hermione's still body, pressing his forehead against hers. How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? Maybe too much blood had been lost, maybe he didn't close the wounds in time. Maybe there was internal damage he couldn't see. He fisted his hands on her shoulders and waited.

He'd kill Charlie. He'd track him down and dismember the careless man, and enjoy the process. When he was finished, he'd track down the Weasle and finish him off as well. That blockhead was the cause of Hermione's wounds in the first place, and Draco was not as lenient as Theo. No. Weasleby would pay if she didn't recover. They all would. The world could burn for all the fucks he gave, because without her...

Merlin. She was everything. Everything. He didn't how this had happened, or when, but he was a man more than besotted, he was intoxicated. She was fucking opium. He couldn't stay away from her. Why could he never stay away from the things he couldn't have? She wasn't his, and never would be. She was Theo's, and he would never take that away from him.

His heart felt splinched every time he looked at her. A part of him longed to confess, to scream at her what she meant to him. The other part of him viciously attacked himself for having these desires, cursing his selfishness and idiocy for only craving what was untouchable. But he had touched it, hadn't he? Just once, and perhaps that was what had started it all. That stupid day in the infirmary. Gods, he had been so stupid. He had tried to rage at her, to relieve the rising emotions by being angry but then he had kissed her, and at that moment he knew. For the first time, he knew what her lips tasted like, he knew what it felt like to be pressed up against her perfect body. He knew she was everything.