Would You Like A Hand?

32 | for

I wish I would've taken the pain for you.

That was all that was running through his head.

I wish I would've taken the pain for you.

He heard Hermione's screams back in the Manor as his aunt Bellatrix cursed her.

I wish I would've taken the pain for you.

They had been the most awful, bone-chilling screams he had ever heard.

I wish I would've taken the pain for you.

He had heard the adult Death Eaters beg for their lives when they had made mistakes, and he had heard them scream in pain, too. But nothing would compare to hearing a mere kid - a fellow classmate - being tortured.

And now that he had had a little taste of it, he really did wish he would've taken the pain for her - if only so that she didn't have to suffer her panic attacks.

He knew it was no use wishing for it - he had been such a coward back then that he wouldn't have done it even if he could somehow travel back in time. And yet, he couldn't help but repeatedly think that if only he would've protected her then, maybe she would be in better shape now.

I wish I would've-

"No, you don't."

What? Who had said that? How did they know what he was thinking? Draco had barely heard it; the words were whispered.

"Please stop saying that."

Ahh, it was Hermione's voice. It was good that she wasn't actually screaming - he could still hear it in his head. But that was strange - weren't they in the middle of something?

His head was pounding, he realized. He must've moaned because Hermione was calling his name worriedly now. He was lying down and his eyelids felt like they were glued shut. The heaviness didn't go away even as he croaked out a response: "What happened?"

A pair of hands - her hands - were on his arm. He felt as she relaxed, "You're okay, Draco."

A second of calm lay between them before she stormily told him, "Why would you do that? I saw the bloody spell and was ready to deflect it! Why would you move in front of me?"

"Oh," he merely breathed, head still hammering in his skull.

"Open your bloody eyes," she demanded.

He tried, he really did. But he just wanted to sleep and make the pounding go away.

"Draco!"

Somehow, at her insistence, he managed to squint open his eyes. He wasn't sure how long it had taken, but it felt like quite a while.

A warm glow lit the room in oranges and reds. He was lying on a hard floor, the few sheets under him not much help in softening the wood against his back. At his side, Hermione was sitting against a wall by his head.

A couple other students were laying around the room, resting peacefully. All kinds of medical supplies were piled in one corner, including some potions neatly lined up nearby.

The girl beside him had more injuries than he last remembered - bandages covered both her arms, and there was a new bruise on her face.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"After you stupidly moved in front of me?" the witch glared at him, "You were hit with a stupefy charm. Tell me what the bloody hell you were thinking; it could've been a forbidden curse hitting you!"

He gazed back at her angry glare. Tiredly, he replied, "All I could think was how I wish I would've taken the-"

"No, you don't."

Silenced, Draco waited.

"You've been muttering that in your sleep. And I don't want to hear you say it again," she explained, "We would've never met in that house, Draco. You would've been killed back then if you had helped me. But you found me in that house and helped me find Harry and Ron."

The Slytherin stated plainly, "Yeah, but you wouldn't have panic attacks now; you probably would've been able to find them without my help in that case."

Eyes flashing, she opened her mouth to argue, but Harry and Ron entered the room and interrupted her.

"You missed the excitement, Malfoy!"

"Not so loud, Harry!" Hermione hissed and gestured to the other sleeping students.

"Sorry," he whispered back, but grinned.

Ron still didn't seem to want to say much to the Malfoy, but he at least wasn't constantly scowling at him.

"Excitement?" Draco sat up carefully and observed the two's various states. The Weasley had an arm in a sling, and a bandage around his head. Potter was limping very slightly, but looked otherwise fine. Draco suspected there were hidden injuries under his robes though, which looked new and no longer torn and dirty.

"The adults all burst into the office after you got knocked out," Hermione told him, apparently still sour about his being knocked out.

"Adults?" Draco frowned, "Where were they anyway? I didn't see them at all during the invasion."

"You didn't think they'd let a bunch of students invade Malfoy Manor, did you?" Harry retorted, "The kids all snuck out into Hogsmeade and left a note behind so that the professors would follow behind as reinforcements once they'd found out."

"And none of the adults noticed?"

"They were leaving in small groups. There were still enough kids around Hogwarts to fool them until nightfall."

Disbelief was written all over Draco's face, and Harry merely continued to grin.

"Alright, then what happened to the Dark Lord? Seeing as we're all still alive..." Draco trailed.

"Gone!" Harry whooped, only to be shushed by Hermione again.

"Gone? For good?" he could hardly believe his ears. It didn't help that he had passed out and hadn't seen it happen.

"He's really gone," Hermione finally smiled at him, "And the undead fell after he did."

Draco's tense shoulders fell and for the first time in forever, he felt truly relieved and relaxed. Never again would he hear the Dark wizard's voice except in his memories. And hopefully, never again would he have to deal with the undead.

-

end note: this is not yet the end. there's just a little more to tie up, and then it'll be over. let me know what you thought in the comments! or leave a vote if you liked the story up until now! I will likely have a deleted scene posted for what Draco missed while he was knocked out, but that's for later ;P

see you soon!

aeratheninja-