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Hermione inhaled through the acrid scents of blood and dark curses; the air was singed from the charged ions trailing the magic being hurled across the woodland. Her fingers were numb around her wand, bitter spit clogging her throat as she tried to maintain her frantic chant of defensive and offensive spells.
The mission had descended into exactly the shitshow she had warned the rebellion about. She was seething underneath the mounting panic, trying to imagine a scenario that didn’t end with all of them dead or captured. The rescued prisoners couldn’t fight - whatever magic dampening potion they’d been given was still very much in effect and they were all barely alive as is. Ginny was leaning against a tree, blood pouring down the side she was shielding two people with. Parvati was out of potion bombs and desperately chucking bombardas with what was a severly broken arm and dislocated shoulder. Nev was spitting blood with every spell, slices criss crossing his body. Luna was barely conscious, swaying even as she sent searing hexes across the battle.
She had to get everyone to safety somehow. If she could clear the field for long enough, her friends could apparate to safety with the prisoners in side-alongs. She just had to clear the field.
A deep breath.
Right, then.
She launched out from behind her fortified shrub, feet thudding down on mud and branches catching in her hair but her eyes steady on the opening to the right of the battle. They’d think she was trying to flank them and react accordingly.
Some particularly explosive hex rocked her protego, but she forced her legs to run faster. She was almost there. A few more moments.
Shouts echoed from both directions at her back - her friends were shouting at her to come back, her enemies were shouting at each other to defend their exposed side.
“On the count of ten, apparate away while they’re distracted!” She was winded and lightheaded, but adrenaline was a powerful thing and she found enough air to get the words out into the comms charm.
“You too?” Nev’s words were slurred, his state rapidly deteriorating.
“Obviously!” She sent a potion bomb that was particularly flashy at the group, the spectacle enough to draw all the attention to her.
The chorus of pops at her back told her that her friends were safe. It was time for her to go.
Just as she readied to apparate, several other wizards appeared - reinforcements. A hex hit her left leg and she tripped, unable to put any weight on the leg. Panic had been bubbling for a while, but suddenly it was churning in her stomach and throat. She needed to apparate out, but her magic was dwindling too rapidly. Peeking down at her leg, she tried not to let out a strangled scream when she saw the deep gashes. Fleeing on foot was no longer an option. Her emotions boiled over. She wouldn’t die this way. Not on some stupid fucking mission that she’d only agreed to because Harry had asked her to.
Another pop and she felt Draco as she saw him. He sprinted across the field towards the battle, black smoke coalescing into barbs that ripped into the wizards nearest to him. Blood sprayed, body parts landing on the spongy earth.
In his haste to get to her, Draco left himself open. The words to warn him got caught in her throat as a spell hit her shield at the same time, sending her careening onto her bad leg. Draco jerked, his body locking up as the curse wreaked havoc on his nerve endings. Another curse hit him and he went down to his knees even as a spear of black with bright green on the end impaled the wizard responsible for hitting her. Blood leaked from his nostrils and lips, but still he sent another wave of lethal magic instead of casting a shield on himself.
Bile in her mouth, Hermione realized she only had one more trick up her sleeve. It would leave her tragically exposed, she knew, but there was no other option. Reaching down into her core, she scraped the dregs of her magic. On an inhale she sent a repulsion spell at Draco - she needed to get him as far away as possible.
On the exhale she grabbed her last potion bomb, muttering a spell to weaken the casing. Another second and she gasped out the accompanying experimental spell as she hurled it. The orb sucked in spells and curses - anything that had been in the air within a certain radius, including her protego.
She heard Draco land with a curse and grinned, dropping back down to the earth as everything exploded. A wave of volatile magic rained down as the spells combined and were released all at once.
Her skin was melting onto broken bones. Her blood was boiling in torn veins. Her lungs were on fire. Her organs splattered across the ridges of her ribcage.
Fuck. She’d possibly miscalculated her chances of surviving this one.
“HERMIONE!”
%%%
Draco threw himself at Hermione as a pulse of his rage ensured anyone who’d survived Hermione’s blast was no longer breathing. His magic was screaming, railing against the cage of his body in its desperation to get to her. As soon as his hands touched her, he felt it wrap around her. Trying to repair what was broken, to fill her back up.
She was empty. He could only feel the faintest flutter of life in her. When her magical core accepted the surge of his magic, her eyes fluttered open. He emptied himself out into her.
“D-Draco?”
With shaking hands he pulled the small carved owl out of her pocket. Dragging her onto his lap and wrapping his hand over hers on the owl, he sent a pulse of his - their - magic at it to activate it.
The portkey took them to a safe house so remote the rebellion didn’t even know its location. Severus had established it years ago and they now had his intense paranoia to thank for their lives. Water droplets hit their faces as soon as they spun out of the ether; shaking in his arms, Hermione blinked at the red rivulets trailing down her body.
She tried to gasp but it came out a stuttering, wheezing thing. Draco gripped her tighter to his chest, knees locked to keep from collapsing.
“B-blood –”
“Shhh, love. I’ve got you.” He jerked forward towards the door, forcing his legs to move through the static of energy still coursing through his muscles. Desperation to get her to safety still clawed at him.
He was at the door to the small cottage now, blasting through the lock with a burst of uncontrolled magic. Just a few more meters to the bed. His vision swam.
Hermione’s shaking was only getting worse. He could feel her clinging to consciousness by nothing but sheer willpower.
Setting her on the faded quilt as carefully as he could, he started ripping into her clothing. He had to evaluate her injuries. Cast as many healing spells as he could.
She whimpered, small hands trying to push him away.
“N-no! D-Draco - ” She broke off, throat working to swallow the blood dribbling up with each stuttering breath.
Covering her hands and leaning his forehead against hers, he ripped more magic from his core and shoved it at her. Continued to ignore the warning bells in the logical part of his brain, screaming at him that he had nothing more to give her.
“I’m here, I’m here.”
At his voice and the feeling of his magic, Hermione’s eyes fluttered open briefly before she went under again. In the next moment Harry appeared in the front yard.
“Hermione!” He was shouting, wand drawn as he eyed the open front door as he rushed it.
Hermione stirred, eyes wide and unfocused.
“Shhh, I’m here, it’s ok,” he cupped her cheek with one hand, still clutching her hands in the other.
“Malfoy? Hermione?”
Harry’s chest was heaving and his wand was still out, but Draco supposed it was a victory that he hadn’t been cursed into oblivion yet (especially given that he was currently more than half dead).
“She’s right here, Potter.” He moved his body so that Harry could crowd the bed with him. Hermione had passed out; her shallow breathing had Draco gripping her hands even harder.
Falling to his knees, Harry cursed, “Fuck. Hermione. Fuck. What the hell happened, Malfoy?”
“Help me heal her, please…Please, Potter.” He hated how his voice caught. He hated that Potter could see his hands shaking. But his weakness didn’t fucking matter right now.
“Okay, okay…” Harry took a deep breath, clearly trying to compartmentalize, “What happened?”
“A combination of curses exploding at once…I think she has internal bleeding, broken ribs, gashes everywhere…I don’t…I don’t know what else, or if that’s even correct – ” Draco stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“We’ll start with the healing potions Snape left here. They should cover all the big stuff, then we can work from there.”
Draco opened his mouth to reply but quickly snapped it shut. His brain couldn’t seem to keep up now that they were here, but he knew he needed to help Hermione. He had to heal her.
Harry stood and moved to a chest by the fireplace - Draco had noticed neither upon arriving. A quick password later and the chest opened to reveal a neat potions collection along with rations of raw ingredients.
After staring at the bottles for a moment, Harry rubbed the back of his neck and looked back at Draco.
“Could you, uh, help? I’m not good with potions and Snape didn’t label everything…I don’t want to hurt her further.”
At the mention of Hermione, Draco’s brain jolted once more. He rose rapidly on shaky legs, disentangling himself from his dual and stumbling over to the chest.
Hermione instantly cried out, but Harry rushed over to the bed.
“No! Stay put, Hermione! We’re going to heal you, ok?” It was Harry’s turn to clutch her icy hands now.
Draco dropped to his knees (or maybe his legs gave out, he wasn’t quite sure anymore) and scanned the potions, wracking his brain. His eyes caught on the section for healing, uncorking bottles to sniff the contents and test the viscosity - she’d need to regrow bones, stop bleeding, repair organs…
Numb hands grabbed potions, then he was crawling back over to her.
“These. Give her these, in this order,” he dropped the bottles onto the quilt, his breath catching in his chest. “Now, Potter!”
At his snarl, Harry snapped into motion and grabbed the first bottle Draco had lined up. He quickly tipped the contents down Hermione’s throat, holding her head at an angle so the liquid could run downward.
At the second potion, she coughed and thrashed weakly. She was in pain. Afraid. Gritting his teeth, Draco gripped her leg and sent her another pulse of his magic. His magical core was a gaping hollow space in his center now, but she’d settled. He collapsed onto the wooden floor, eyes open in thin slits to watch Potter give Hermione the last potion.
Good. She would be ok, then. He could go now.
Darkness took him swiftly.
%%%
She’d been drowning in an endless sea - the turbulence felt like acid digging into raw wounds. Right when she thought the sea may win, warmth swept over her, filling her crevices and buoying her up so she could catch her breath between the waves of pain.
Consciousness returned slowly.
Her mind was waterlogged, limbs leaden and aching, floating along. Something knocked at the back of her brain. She needed to know what it was. What was so important?
Finally her head broke through the waves and she could hear.
“Hermione, please wake up. Please.”
That voice. It caused a burst of emotion in her chest, nearly painful. She needed to help the voice.
“Hermione! Your fingers twitched! Merlin I hope that means those potions worked… Can you hear me?”
Yes, she thought. She could. Concentrated on finding her fingers, tracing the pathway from her neck to her shoulder, then down her arm.
“Yes! Try to open your eyes now, Hermione. It’s safe, you’re safe.”
Safe? She was safe?
All at once, her brain rebooted. Panic shot down her spine like liquid fire.
“DRACO!” She clawed her way up, tumbling from something relatively soft onto something hard. A bed. The floor.
“DRACO!”
Strong hands landed on her upper arms. She thrashed wildly, spit flying as she screeched, lashing out at the dimly lit figure in front of her.
“Hermione! It’s ok! Hermione look at me, it’s Harry! You’re ok!”
Harry.
She gasped and lunged for him, “Harry! Thank Merlin! Draco - where is Draco?”
“He’s here, laying on the rug over there,” Harry cupped her cheeks, “You have to take it easy, Hermione. You almost died.”
Ignoring Harry, Hermione began crawling towards the mass on the floor across the room. Her body felt like jelly, wobbling and unstable. Nausea rose up, vomit threatening to spill out, but her eyes finally adjusted and she was able to make out the shock of white hair at one end of the mass.
“No no no. Draco. No. Please, no. No no no.” She was babbling, the sight of Draco stealing any sanity she had left.
“Hermione! He’s ok, I swear.”
Harry was behind her somewhere. He could help Draco. He had to help.
“Harry help! Draco, no no no. Draco!”
She was finally at his side. It took all of her newborn strength to push him onto his back. His skin was cold, almost translucent in the flickering firelight. He was breathing, but he didn’t wake when she shook him.
“Draco? Draco!” She skimmed his body with her hands, trying to find any source of injury.
“He’s ok, Hermione! He just…he passed out. I’m not sure…I don’t know what happened to you both,” he was at her side now, gripping her shoulder, “But you need to breathe. Please. Take a few deep breaths for me.”
Forcing her lungs to inhale as deeply as possible, she stared into Harry’s green eyes and slowly exhaled. Once, twice, three more times.
Awareness sharpened as her panic dulled. Draco was alive. That meant she could fix him.
“Thank you,” she hugged Harry to her.
Breathing into her neck, Harry squeezed her back.
“Thank Merlin you’re ok. I thought we may have lost you there for a second.”
“I’m ok,” she gave him her best approximation of a small smile.
Harry nodded, eyes solemn, “We have Malfoy to thank for that, I think.”
Looking down at her dual, Hermione brushed his hair back from his forehead. Now that she was a bit calmer, she could see that he had no physical injuries that would account for his unconscious state.
“Did you run a diagnostic spell? Give him the healing potions Severus left here?”
When Harry dropped eye contact with her, Hermione’s stomach curdled.
“I ran the spell I could remember, but all it picked up on were the aftermath of some nasty curses and minor injuries. And…we used all the potions for you…”
At her look, Harry scrambled to fill in further, “He handed me the potions and told me which order to give them to you. I was so panicked about you that I didn’t notice the state he was in. I’m sorry, Hermione. By the time I looked over after giving them all to you, I found him unconscious on the floor. I dragged him over here by the fire, I thought the warmth may help…”
Raw anger shot through her, begging to spew out, but the guilt dripping off Harry told her that he truly hadn’t meant to hurt Draco. She took another two deep breaths. Focused on running through what she could remember, trying to pinpoint the source of his state. Forced Harry to run a diagnostic spell she’d modified herself, confirming his initial results. Physical damage abound but not lethal - nerve damage, fractures, broken ribs. Nothing to account for the eerie blankness of his unconsciousness.
“Did Draco say anything else? Some clue as to what else happened? I don’t remember much after the explosion.”
“He didn’t say much of anything, just asked me to help you and listed off the injuries he thought you may have. He didn’t mention anything about himself,” shaking his head, Harry winced. “And I didn’t ask.”
“We’ll circle back to that, Harry Potter.” Another deep breath. “So he just…collapsed?”
Harry’s mouth pursed as he thought, then his eyes widened, “He grabbed your legs!”
“What?”
“After I gave you the first potions, you started coughing and writhing around like you were in pain. Malfoy grabbed your legs and…I heard him hiss through his teeth, so I looked over, and his eyes were closed like he was concentrating. I thought he looked even paler than usual. Then you quieted and I was focused on giving you the rest of the potions. But that’s the last time I know he was awake.”
Her mind whirled. Surely he hadn’t…
Looking back at his face, she knew in her gut that he had. She pressed her forehead to his, hands gripping his shirt. Her tears hit his face, rolling down his infuriatingly sculpted cheekbones.
“Are you ok?”
A hysteric bubble of laughter burst out. “No, I’m not bloody ok,” she turned her head so she could see Harry, “He depleted his magical core. He gave it to me. The fucking idiot.”
She turned back to Draco, focusing on finding her own magic. It was elusive, still reeling from the fight it fluttered around her center like a scared bird. All it took to get the bird to calm was a peek at the carousel of Draco she kept in her brain. She’d give him as much of her magic as she could.
Sliding her hands through the rips in his shirt, gulping down her rage and guilt at the entire situation, she visualized sending her magic from her core, down her fingers and into his chest. He jerked underneath her, absorbing her magic, his body temperature rising ever so slightly.
Brushing her lips against his, she whispered, “It’s ok, Draco. Rest.”
Hermione’s head swam as her already paltry strength gave out, but she knew he’d come back to her now. Eyeing Harry, she directed him to levitate Draco to the bed and hunt for the secret stash of pain potion she suspected Severus would keep. She thanked every legendary wizard when a vial was located and poured down Draco’s throat. Once he was secure, she curled up next to him. Pressed herself into his side as tightly as she could with her weak limbs and depleted core.
“Uh…I’ll just…go sleep…over there?”
“Goodnight, Harry.” She blinked open heavy eyelids, finding his bewildered gaze, “Thank you for coming. I promise we will talk about this in the morning after we brew Draco more healing potion, ok?”
Harry nodded and retreated to the other side of the room, transfiguring the armchair into a small mattress for himself.