A Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure

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The vivid nightmare caused Hermione to thrash about in her bed violently, only further upsetting her injuries.

Harry and Ron were huddled in a far corner of the same room she'd been tortured in that day. Voldemort towered over them, laughing maliciously. "You're little mudblood friend is the reason you are here," he spat. He casually threw curses at them, causing both boys to writhe in pain. "She led you right to me. It's all her fault." He broke off and began laughing sadistically. "Avada Kedavra!" Harry's body flipped once in the air before dropping to the ground. Hermione bit back a sob and stared at his still body.

Hermione gasped and jolted into consciousness. 'Harry!' she thought, pained. 'You mustn't come for me.' Quickly she touched her silver ring and flinched slightly as the metal encircling her finger became the temperature of ice. She willed Harry and Ron to recall what she had written about the rings. Mentally she berated herself for not remembering about the charmed object sooner. Giving it up to exhaustion and panic, she sighed, and hoped that her two friends would heed her warning.

Exhausted, she let her arms fall back to her side. Lost in pain, she did not notice the soft touch of another on her face. "Come on, Granger," a low voice coaxed.

Her body was one solid ache. Hermione gingerly opened her eyes and found that she was lying on her bed in the room Malfoy had taken her from that morning. Speaking of the ferret, she opened her mouth to question the blonde Slytherin sitting on the edge of her bed. Hermione felt a callused finger pressed to her lips. "I'm warning you now; you will feel a lot better if you don't talk." The voice wasn't threatening or cruel, in fact, it was slightly soothing.

Hermione closed her mouth reluctantly and stared up into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Trust me. You have two broken ribs, a mild concussion, and neither of the curses that Voldemort performed on you were what you would term beneficial to your body." He slid his arm under Hermione's frame and lifted her into a semi sitting position. A cup was pressed against her lips. "Drink."

Hermione gulped at the water desperately. She was so thirsty. Gratefully she let the cool liquid calm her dry throat, but regretted ingesting the water almost immediately as she felt something rebel in her stomach, sending spasms of nausea through her body. Hermione turned her head to the side away from Malfoy and vomited repeatedly, bringing up everything she had in her stomach.

She was dimly aware of cool hands holding back her hair from her face and sank gratefully back onto her bed when she was finished. Hermione looked at the mess she'd made and blushed with embarrassment. She saw Draco wave his wand and felt better as her mess was instantly cleaned.

"You also seem to have some muggle disease. I think it's called the boo or something like that," Malfoy drawled nonchalantly, as if Hermione throwing up everywhere was an everyday event. A look of concern crossed the young man's face.

'Concern? On Malfoy's face? Yeah right, Hermione. You're delusional,' she thought to herself.

"I need to take your shirt off to fix your injuries. I won't do it if you don't want me to, but your injuries will only get worse," Malfoy stated carefully.

Hermione nodded, too exhausted to protest. She just wanted the pain to leave. Hermione hissed in discomfort when her shirt bumped her sore ribs as it went over her head. She looked down and saw a multitude of bruises adorning her body. Her right side was considerably more swollen than her left and the sharp pains shooting through that side of her body every time she took a breath made her think that it was her right side which had the broken ribs.

Malfoy approached her with a glass jar in his hand. He dipped his hand into the jar and moved it to her side. Slowly he rubbed the lotion over her bruises. She winced as his hand passed over her cracked ribs. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I would do a spell to fix them, but Voldemort has the entire encampment enchanted to detect all spells. This unauthorized spell would attract his notice. I can only heal the things he can't see using herbs and such. We're not even allowed to brew potions without his permission."

Hermione's mouth formed a small "Oh." Wanting to speak and not caring how much it hurt, she finally spoke to Malfoy. "Why are you here?" she whispered, lacking the strength to add the vehemence she had wished her inquiry to possess.

The Slytherin looked down at her for a moment before speaking. "Granger, I don't have to justify myself to you."

"Excuse me," she spat, her voice barely audible. Hermione attempted to heave herself off her bed to go to the sink at the far end of her room.

"Whoa!" Draco said, alarmed. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you." She shoved him away, only to loose her balance and tumble back onto her bed. She gasped in pain as her sore side made direct contact with her hard mattress.

Firm hands repositioned her so that her weight was better distributed. When her vision cleared, Hermione was not sure whether to feel grateful or irritated that Malfoy was looming over her.

"Hermione, you must stay still," Malfoy mumbled.

"What's this? The ferret boy telling me what to do?" Hermione smirked, pushing on through the pain. She ignored that he used her first name when addressing her. "I'm sure you're just looking out for my wellbeing. Am I correct in this, Malfoy? The Dark Lord didn't put you up to this, did he?"

Malfoy looked angered. "Listen, mudblood, no one mocks me. No one. Understand? If you want to be stuck here in pain, then be that way. There are not many ways out of here and you happen to be pushing away the help of one of the few that knows these passages. I would think hard on that the next time you go to insult me."

Hermione watched in shock as Malfoy quickly stood and stalked out of the room.

'What have I gotten myself into?' she thought miserably. She fell back against her pillows and waited for sleep to consume her.

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