(Hermione and Draco take on the zombie apocalypse) It's been five years since Harry, Hermione and Ron left Hogwarts.
Hermione, now twenty-two and engaged to Ron, prides herself in her intelligence. All her life, Hermione has always needed to kno...
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Draco's eyes opened blearily, the first streams of sunlight filling his eyes as the world around him started to wake up. As his senses came back to him, a harsh pain settled throughout his body.
Then everything came crashing down on him. His last memories were falling through the air as he was unable to regain control of his rapidly moving Thunderbolt. He had even been so desperate he had even tried to apparate as Granger had held tight to his back. But it hadn't worked, he had only continued to fall.
He couldn't remember hitting the ground.
I shouldn't be alive, he thought, I shouldn't be here.
Draco's eyes slowly took in the incoming rays of light, squinting out into it, the light breeze rustling the leaves over his head. There was a shuffling sound beside him, something under him moving. Alarm coursed through him and he turned his head on the soft pillow below him where he lay.
He then found himself looking right at Hermione Granger's abdomen as his head sat in her lap. The Gryffindor looked beat up, a bloody gash along the side of her head where dried blood now congealed against her face. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back. But, Draco got the sense she wasn't really sleeping, and that if he said one word her eyes would pop open, ready and alert. Her arm was held delicately against herself as if it might be injured.
Feeling uncomfortable in such an intimate position with the Gryffindor, Draco made to move, pulling up his legs to hoist himself forward, noting how Granger's eyelids fluttered. Her face was a strange façade of tranquility in the turmoil of the last twenty-four hours.
Her loose chestnut curls got caught in the light breeze and fell over her pale skin, covering up the bloody gash – almost concealing the evidence that anything had happened at all. At a glance, she may have looked to be no more than a young woman resting against a tree in the middle of the forest.
As he lifted his leg, a sharp searing pain shot through his body, making him bite his teeth against a scream, causing it to instead escape his lips on a muffled groan. There was a feeling of movement within his leg underneath his flesh and muscle which was accompanying the pain. He knew innately that it was not normal, as he could feel the grinding of two bones that were not supposed to be separated.
The action and the sound roused Granger fully awake. Her hand clamped down on him, keeping him still.
"Your leg is broken, Malfoy," she said, her voice coming out raspy from hours of disuse. She cleared her throat, continuing on, "I tried to heal it but the spell was weaker than usual. Some skele-gro might do the trick, however, it's a bit extreme to use for a fracture." She frowned, "and I don't have any of that anyway, so it doesn't much matter."
Draco was breathing heavily, still reeling from the pain. He had never suffered a fracture for this long, healing spells quick and thorough, and he could feel the effect that the continuing inflammation was having on his body.
