June 2002
The next night, Hermione slipped out of Grimmauld Place after dinner, claiming the need for more milk from the market up the street.
When she arrived in the shack, she stood awkwardly, wondering if Draco would appear. She suspected that he wasn't expecting her to make it.
He arrived suddenly with a sharp crack, wincing.
She stared. In the past, he'd always been fully dressed; shirt, robes, and a cloak for good measure. While she'd stripped him to his waist twice, both occasions had been mostly professional and he'd redressed immediately afterward.
He was just wearing trousers and a button down shirt. All in black. The absence of layers emphasised how tall and lithe he was. He seemed like a panther; black, cool, and predatory.
Practically speaking, it was logical and efficient. Fewer layers to remove. Less weight pressing against his injured back. Yet it felt weirdly intimate.
He wandlessly summoned a chair, and straddled it backward while he began unbuttoning his shirt.
He hissed and gasped under his breath as he twisted his shoulders to pull it down.
"Is it hurting any less?" she said, hesitating slightly as she laid a hand on his arm. His skin was still unnaturally cold. Touching him sent a shiver of fear down her spine as he flinched faintly and his muscles rippled beneath her fingers.
"Slightly," he said, after a beat.
With a wave of her wand, she carefully drew out and banished the murtlap and dittany, and then administered a very gentle cleansing charm over all the cuts.
Draco jerked and dropped his head down against the back of the chair.
"Fuck, Granger!" he snarled, his knuckles white where he was gripping the chair.
"It's done now," she said after another moment. "I'm sorry. I had to. Wizarding folk may be immune to most infections but there's no knowing what else that knife had been used for. Or exactly what properties Nagini's venom has; it may neutralise your natural immunity."
"A bit of warning next time, please," he said, his voice shaking slightly.
"Sorry. Most people prefer not to know. Bracing for it can make it worse."
"I'd prefer to know."
She stared at the runes. A cold sinking sensation came over her. The tendrils of dark Magic were already beginning to creep out from the runes again. She had been too late. The runes would continue to poison him.
She lay a hesitant hand on Draco's arm. "This-is going to hurt again. Do you-want me to stun you?"
He glanced back at her, and studied her face. Something in his eyes flashed for a moment, and his expression hardened.
"Is there really any point?" he said.
Hermione flinched and she dropped her eyes. "Let me try," she said quietly.
Draco stared at her for another minute before he snorted faintly and shook his head in disbelief as he looked away.
"Fine. One more try," he said in a resigned voice before resting his head on the back of the chair.
Hermione stunned him again.
It only took her a few minutes to remove all the traces of dark magic. Then she cast several diagnostic charms, trying to break down the layers of the ritual and find something she could deconstruct and nullify.
The ritual was set.
She was too late.
She traced her fingers over his back as she wondered what to do.
