On the Way to the End - Dramione

Chapter 9

Draco groaned in pain as they arrived at his apartment. His balanced as he sat wavered but Hermione put an arm on him to keep him steady. The young woman looked around as sat on the ground next to Draco. 

It was a nice apartment, they were in the living room, to her right was a fireplace, in front of her, a window seat, to her left a couch and armchairs and beyond that was the kitchen. Hermione noted that the front door was behind her. 

"Can you stand?" She asked as she stood, reaching down to his hands. 

Draco took a deep breath and put his hands in hers. She carefully pulled him up and put his arm over her shoulders. He tried not to put to much weight on her but was certainly thankful for her support. Hermione sat him down on the couch and put a hand on his forehead. 

"You're burning up, where's the potion?" She asked, concern in her voice. 

"Kitchen, top cupboard above the sink," Draco told her as he leaned back into the couch. He watched as she headed for the kitchen. The Slytherin couldn't help but enjoy hearing a touch of concern in her voice for him. It was a strange feeling to have, but maybe Blaise was right. 

Blaise hadn't been too happy when he volunteered to go to Grimmauld Place, he said that he 'wasn't using his head.' Maybe he was correct. But whatever it was that Draco was doing, it felt right. 

Hermione found the potion exactly where Draco said it would be. "Are you concerned that they'll think you deflected?" Hermione asked Draco while she got a cloth, running warm water over it. She collected some water in a bowl for cleaning the blood away too. 

"Even if they saw you disapparate with me, they'll assume I was taken prisoner I'm sure," Draco reassured her. 

Hermione looked around the kitchen, it was small but had everything one might need. There was a counter that divided the kitchen and living room with stools in the living room side to eat. At the other side of the kitchen, away from the living room was a hallway, which is where she assumed the bedrooms and the rest of the house was. 

After having a quick glance around Hermione gathered the things she needed and went back over to Draco and sat down beside him. "Have you?" She handed him the blood replenishing potion and started cleaning the blood off his chest, specifically being careful around the gash. 

"Have I what?" He asked before knocking back the potion. Grimacing at the taste. 

"Deflected?" Hermione paused her cleaning to look up at him. She suddenly noticed the close proximity and felt her heart rate pick up. Sure, it had been like this the entire time she'd been helping him. But now that they were out of immediate danger and he was stabilizing, she suddenly realized what an effect it had on her. 

He looked at her carefully, thoughtfully, her hand was on his chest and the other held the rag, which was also on his chest from her cleaning it. She was so close, he could feel air wash over his face with every breath he took. Her eyes were focused on his. They held no fear, they were calm, curious and a bit concerned. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He finally answered. 

She smiled slightly. Merlin, he'd like to see more of that. Wait, sorry what? 

"Seriously." Hermione pressed. 

Draco sighed, "as far as they're concerned, no. As far as I'm concerned, yes." His eyes still hadn't left hers. Hermione went back to cleaning. "You know they have spells for that, right?" The Slytherin raised an eyebrow. 

Hermione's cheeks reddened and she pulled away suddenly. "Sorry." She muttered, Merlin how embarrassing is that?  "I guess after being on the run and trying to avoid magic because of the trackers, you get used to doing things without it." She shook her head, looking at her lap. Draco suddenly wished he had never said anything at all. 

Hermione sat back and performed a spell to clean up all the blood and dirt that was left on his skin. What the hell is wrong with you? Draco mentally cursed himself. "It's fine, I understand that." He nodded at her. 

Hermione's eyes went back to the cut on his chest. "Magic isn't going to heal that instantly." She told him, before pulling out her beaded-bag again. She dug around and found some gauze. The Gryffindor began covering the cut with the bandages and trained her eyes on her work. 

"Can I ask you something?" She spoke once more. 

"I have a feeling you're going to ask it either way." Draco looked at her, unamused. 

"That scar," she gestured to the largest of the scars on his body, across his stomach, "is that from Harry?" 

Draco suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious about his scars. He hadn't thought about it before but he suddenly wanted to cover everything up. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him, why he should care about her opinion. But he did. 

"Yeah, sixth year." He averted his gaze to the window.

"I remember, I felt awful." She finished bandaging his cut and looked at him. She remembered hearing about it that night and feeling bad. Not as bad as Harry considering he performed it, but pretty bad. 

"Why it wasn't your doing." Draco met her gaze again, his eyebrows furrowed. 

She just shrugged. Then it got quiet. Hermione suddenly felt a bit awkward just sitting there. So she put a hand to his forehead once again and nodded. Good.  Draco was feeling remarkably better. Not good enough to jog around the living room but well enough that his breathing was normalized and his fever was breaking. 

Draco suddenly mentally cursed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. He was shirtless, which meant that she was most likely just purposely not mentioning the fact that his Dark Mark was sticking out like a sore thumb. 

Shit. 

Hermione looked around once more, not really knowing what to say. "Does it bother you?" Draco plucked up the courage to ask. 

"What?" 

Draco gestured to his Dark Mark and looked to her again, his face unreadable. 

"Oh." Hermione had noticed before, but she looked at the mark on his arm again and sighed. She thought about it for a moment. Did it bother her? She would think it should, but somehow it didn't. Though she knew she should be, she wasn't afraid of him. "On you, not particularly." She answered honestly. 

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Draco quipped. 

Hermione gave a scoff, "I just... I think you've done enough to earn my trust..." she paused, "More or less." The Gryffindor looked at him cautiously. "I mean you saved me twice and gave me information and now you've brought me here. So unless your planning to kill me..." She trailed off. 

"Not tonight." He gave her a slight smile and she rolled her eyes. What was wrong with him? There was surely something wrong with him. Why was he feeling like this? He looked to Hermione again, who was still covered in his blood, and sighed. He was definitely losing it.