A Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure

I seriously considered stopping this story here. It's a cosy little five chapters of hatred, compassion, desperation, power, and confusion. However, I like this story and felt that Hermione and Draco's relationship can be developed further. So I'm taking this story past her rescue. Hope that makes a few of you happy. I'd also like to apologise for my neglect of this story for the past couple of months.

IOIOI

Hermione stifled a sigh as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand yet another time over her body. She was restless. Although still very sore, Hermione wanted to get up and move about, however, it did not seem like Madame Pomfrey was too willing to grant this now.

The mediwitch clicked her tongue and scribbled something on her large clipboard. "Ms. Granger, there seems to be a problem."

Hermione stared at her. When the mediwitch did not elaborate, Hermione's exasperation peaked. "Well, what is it?" she demanded, rather more ferociously than she normally spoke her inquiries.

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "I would advise you to reign in that temper, miss. You're injuries are not healing properly. You've already been here for five days and they-"

Hermione interrupted the woman. "Five days? Why?"

"We had to make sure you were stabilised," was the clipped response the older woman provided.

Resignedly Hermione resettled herself gingerly, mentally bemoaning her sore body, to wait for Madame Pomfrey's verdict.

"I must discuss some things with the Order. Do you recall any unusual curses that were performed on you whilst you were imprisoned?"

"I wasn't conscious the entire time, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione informed the witch. "The curses I was conscious for were not unusual- cruel and uncivilised, but not unusual."

"Well, try not to move. I will be back shortly. I'd like you to take this pain reducing potion. It should keep your symptoms at bay until we figure this out."

Madame Pomfrey bustled out of the room before Hermione had a chance to interrogate the woman further. Frustrated, the young witch angrily downed the bluish potion and closed her eyes. Exhausted she leaned back and allowed sleep to consume her.

IOIOI

"They don't know what's wrong with her?"

"You-know-who performed curses on her whilst she was unconscious. She doesn't remember anything unfamiliar. Therefore we must figure out, the difficult way, which curses are keeping us from healing her and what could have caused the damage we found. The extent of her injuries is alarming. If young Mr. Malfoy hadn't brought her to us when he did, she would have died. There was an immense amount of swelling in her brain and her heart was weakened from blood loss. No one's body can withstand that kind of stress for such a prolonged amount of time. Add to that restricted food rations, and she is lucky that she stayed cognate as long as she did. Her heart is still very weak. There was also extensive internal bleeding, especially around her abdomen. Do you question my capabilities?'

Hermione stared at the painted ceiling, pointedly ignoring the open door several feet away. If she wasn't mistaken, she was hearing a conversation between Lupin and Madame Pomfrey. Thinking about what she'd just overheard, Hermione took inventory of her condition. She felt fine. There was a steady ache throughout her body, but she expected that. It was thorough, but dull.

"Madame Pomfrey, you misunderstand my concern. I am merely worried about her condition. I meant no disrespect."

The mediwitch cleared her throat and pushed the door open. Her critical eye landed upon the petite young woman lying on the bed. "I trust you have been sleeping?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione meekly replied.

"Good." The mediwitch threw an uncertain glance at the open door and then returned her attention to Hermione. "Doubtless, you heard some of my conversation just then."

"I wasn't trying to," the young woman informed the nervous witch.

"Of course, it's Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley that are the nosy ones. Now you have some extensive injuries, but we are unsure of how to cure these because the curses are still affecting your body, preventing our methods from taking effect."

"Wonderful," Hermione mumbled

"You truly don't remember anything that could help?"

Hermione fumed, insulted that the mediwitch was frustrated with her. She hadn't asked to be captured. "I truly don't remember a blasted thing, Madame Pomfrey. Here's an idea, why don't you owl the Death Eaters and ask them what they did? I'm able to give you about as much help as they would."

"Certainly, Ms. Granger, you understand the gravity of this?" Madame Pomfrey looked slightly affronted. "I will return later after I have spoken with some members of the Order."

Hermione watched the retreating back of the mediwitch until she disappeared through the door, not bothering to hide her bitter smirk. Of course she understood the seriousness of the matter. If they didn't figure out what was wrong with her, she would die. Not a complicated concept for her to fathom. It was the unpleasantness of said concept that made her snippy.

IOIOI

Hermione was awoken by the heavy door to her room banging against the stone wall. Here eyes fluttered open and slowly focused the tall figure of Draco Malfoy.

"Draco," she said, her voice raspy.

The young man briskly made his way to the side of her bed. "Granger," he acknowledged. He put a callused hand to her forehead and drew away after a moment.

Hermione eased herself into a sitting position, blushing slightly when Draco helped her adjust her back against some pillows. She watched as he moved about. His eyes were distant and cool, his movements precise and businesslike. "Draco, what's the matter?"

Draco wouldn't look her in the eye. He fixed his gaze on the wall and informed her in a monotone voice. "They tell me I am to be sent back to the Death Eaters. I am to use a time turner and go back. I can't stay here, my position as a spy is too precious to waste."

Hermione looked at his hardened features, the sharpness of his face. "I'm sorry," she said, at a loss for how to console her saviour.

Her back ached fiercely, but she pushed the pain to the back of her mind and concentrated on sitting up. She put a small hand on his arm in an attempt to quell him. "At least you won't be in danger for rescuing me. If you are there when I disappear, they can't accuse you of having a direct hand in it." She bit her lip as sharp pains shot through her side.

Draco was studying her face. She looked away, ashamed at her weakness. A cool hand cupped itself under her chin, drawing her gaze to the young Slytherin's. She saw in his eyes fresh resolve. "Hermione," he whispered urgently. "I will keep my eyes and ears open- I will find out what they did to you. There's still hope."

The young woman's eyes became misty, grateful for the man before her. "I wish there was a way without you being in danger," she told him.

A bitter smiled flitted across Draco's face. "I'll always be in danger from Voldemort. I'm marked."

Hermione's gaze flew to his arm, covered by his robe. She knew the Dark Mark was there, Voldemort's power. "Has he called you? I've been missing for a week from his lair. Has it burned?" She didn't know what made her ask, but she had to know.

Without hesitation, Draco replied. "The first day you were gone, he called us all. I didn't go; I had to know you would be alright. That's why I have to use the time-turner."

"Oh," was all she could think to say. After a few moments of silence, Hermione knew she had to say something about before in Voldemort's encampment. "About what I said concerning your Mark," she said slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize everything that was at stake."

Draco smiled; this time it was genuine. "Don't fret. I understand."

Relief washed over Hermione. Tension she didn't know she held slowly ebbed away. She returned his smile. "Good." She was sleepy and the room was so warm. She hadn't been this comfortable since she had arrived at Order headquarters. Looking up at Draco she stifled a yawn.

He noticed and swooped down upon her. "Bedtime for you," he said, a hint of mock authority in his voice. "You need your beauty sleep."

"Calling me ugly, are you?" Hermione asked, momentarily worried that his comment had been in earnest. She covered her actual worry by lacing her question with confidence and gusto.

The blonde man looked at her, eyes travelling from her blanketed feet, across her covered body, finally coming to rest on her delicate face. "Not for a second," he said, with feeling behind his comment.

He tucked her covers around her and drew her hand to his, kissing her hand and giving it a light squeeze. "Till the next time we meet," he promised, drawing away.

Hermione allowed herself a lone tear as she watched him exit her room knowing he was returning to the lair of Voldemort.

IOIOI

As I've said, RL has been a bitch lately. So sorry again for the delay. Please review. I know where I'm taking this story- there will be more action and a few complications. Don't worry- no characters I like will die :D