Healing Touch

It was a bitterly cold day. Ice clung to the windows of the isolated cabin in the mountains of France. Hermione Granger sat staring out at the bleak gray skies wishing she were still in England. Still with those she loved. Her thoughts went to Harry Potter, her best friend, and Ronald Weasley, the man she loved. How she longed to be with them, but they were so far away, fighting a war, while she was in hiding, recuperating from wounds she had received in a battle not long ago.

"Still moping Granger?" came a cultured voice from behind her. Hermione did not turn to face the man standing behind her, knowing that his ice blue eyes would be looking at her with far too much pity for her liking.

"If you continue to dwell on these things you will never heal properly Hermione" Draco Malfoy said gently.

"What do you want me to do Malfoy?" Hermione snapped, turning to face him. "Pretend like I am happy to be here with you? That is something that is never going to happen. It doesn't what you do. To me you will always be that horrible boy from school who took every opportunity to make my life miserable. Do you really expect me to trust you?"

Draco winced.

"I know that there is nothing that I can do to change the things that I have done to you and those you love, but whether you choose to see it or not, I am trying to make amends here. I too would rather be on the front lines, but my assignment is to tend to you until you are well enough to return. Your stubbornness is not making things easy on either of us. The longer you resist my help, the longer it will be until either of us can return and be of any use."

Hermione swung her eyes back to the window. She knew that he was right, but how could Dumbledore assign one of the few people she truly loathed to assist her recovery? What in Merlin's name had he been thinking?

Seeing that Hermione wasn't going to make things easy on him, Draco decided to leave her to her thoughts for the time being. As he exited the room, he thought back to the horrible things he had done. If the shoe were on the other foot, would he have forgiven her? He would like to believe that he would have.

Draco knew that she found it hard to believe that he had turned away from everything he had held to be true. She did not know of the things he had been taught since birth to believe. She did not know how hard it had been to continue to believe those things after he met her.

Thinking back to the first day of Hogwarts, while they had nervously been awaiting the Sorting Ceremony, he recalled the first time he had ever seen her. Still smarting from having the famous Harry Potter publicly reject his friendship, he had filled with rage. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he had seen an angel before him. Big, chocolate brown eyes, full of well-disguised fear met his. He knew that look well. He had longed to talk to her, but before he had the chance to move in her direction, Professor McGonogal had declared that it was time for the ceremony to begin.

After the excitement of the ceremony was over, he discovered that she was muggle-born, and a lifetime of propaganda took its toll. Filled with disgust at himself for being so interested in a mudblood, he tried to forget her. When his fallen angel became friends with the boy wonder, he turned his anger at himself out on them.

Over the next several years, he tried to forget the vulnerability he had seen in her eyes that night. Those eyes haunted his sleep. By the time he realized how much he truly wanted to see those eyes look on him with kindness, they were filled with hatred. Far too much time had passed, and he had inflicted too much damage upon the golden trio for that to be possible.

Instead, he decided to examine himself and the things he had always believed. Eventually realizing that his father was no more right about the superiority of the purebloods then he himself had been in torturing Hermione for his own flaws, he defected. The only one who truly believed that his change of heart was real was Albus Dumbledore, the man he had been taught to despise his whole life.

Only Draco and Dumbledore knew what the elder wizard's intentions had been when he had laid out this assignment for him. Knowing that contention in the ranks could only lead to defeat, He had made the decision to send Draco along as Hermione's caretaker in hopes that a friendship would grow. Draco secretly hoped for more than that.

"Whatever it takes, I will have to show her that I will not hurt her. Somehow, I have to make up for the damage that I have done to her," He muttered to himself. He would just have to find some way to prove that he had no desire to harm her. "Quite the opposite actually..."

Chapter 2

Feeling weak, Hermione moved to return to bed. She had taken only two steps before her legs gave way. Hermione gritted her teeth in pain. The stabbing pain in her side would not subside. She steeled herself against the hurt, determined to make it to the bed without the help of Draco.

She thought back to the night of the battle. The Order of the Phoenix had found the Death Eaters attacking the home of one of their own, Neville Longbottom. It was their way to attack them one by one, and flee when the Order arrived. In the ensuing battle, Ron had been hit by the Crucio curse. Hearing his cries of pain, Hermione had turned away from the witch who had been attacking her, only to feel a blinding pain strike her back.

When she had awoken, she was lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's. She opened her eyes to see Ron and Harry dozing in chairs beside her bed.

"Good morning," she had whispered, only to see both boys startle awake.

"Mione!" Ron cried, leaping to her side. "Mione my love, I am so sorry I wasn't able to protect you." He began to sob.

"It's fine Ron," She replied. "I'll rest up and join you guys soon." Sadness washed over Harry's face.

"Not soon Mione. Beatrix Lestrange hit you with an unforgivable curse. You've been paralyzed from the waist down. Dumbledore is working with Snape now, trying to concoct a potion to revive the nerves that she injured within your spinal cord. Dumbledore feels that it would be best if you went underground while you recuperate. The Death Eaters know that you have been seriously wounded, and would not hesitate to take advantage and kill you. You are far too vital to this effort, and to us, to allow anything to happen to you."

"Who is going with me, since I am unable to walk?" Hermione inquired bluntly. There was no point in dwelling on what had happened, she just needed to know the plan of action, and she would determine what to do from there.

"Draco Malfoy," came the strong voice from the door. Albus Dumbledore walked in and smiled at Hermione. "Just like you to go straight to the questions Hermione, even when injured."

"Malfoy! You want to entrust Mione to Malfoy?" sputtered Ron. "With all due respect sir, don't you feel that it would be better if-"

"No Ronald, you are much needed here. Draco has the necessary skills at potion making as well as medi-witch training. He is also well versed in the dark arts, and knows how to deflect many of their curses. He will be able to care for her aptly."

"Professor, what if I don't want Malfoy to accompany me?" Hermione asked desperately. She could handle being sent away to heal; she could not however handle being sent into hiding with Malfoy.

"I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied. "You will be transported by muggles tomorrow, as your condition renders portkeys and apparition quite impossible"

They were able to concoct the healing potion after several weeks, but she had been warned that it would be a long and painful recovery, as her limbs had atrophied from disuse.

This is how Hermione found herself on the floor. She had overextended herself today. Oh, how she wished that it had been Ron that had been sent with her to heal. Forcing herself back onto her feet, she steadied herself. Keeping one hand on the chair, she urged one foot to move in front of the other and fell again, the chair toppling and striking her temple.

Hearing the commotion, Draco rushed into the room to find Hermione unconscious on the floor. He slid his arms underneath her and carried her to the bed. He began to check her vitals, knowing that she had indeed pushed herself too far that day.

"Why won't you let me care for you Mione?" He whispered emotionally, tears cascading down his cheeks. "If you will not even ask me for help, how will you ever learn to love me?"

Chapter 3

Several hours later, Hermione awoke to discover Draco blissfully sleeping in the very chair that had knocked her unconscious. Feeling groggy, she attempted to pull the blankets back, but was unable to gather the strength. A small moan escaped her lips.

Draco awoke with a start. Seeing her parched lips he immediately fetched a glass of water.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered after he had held the glass to her lips for her to drink. She despised being so reliant upon Draco.

"Hermione, I have a proposal for you," Draco began. Hermione nodded reluctantly, encouraging him to continue. "Let's put aside our differences for now. I am fully aware that you do not trust me, but as you've shown today, you really have no choice but to accept my help if you ever hope to recover and go back to the front lines."

Hermione nodded, feeling conflicted. A part of her saw the logic in this. He was right. The more she refused his assistance, the worse she became.
"Fine," she replied.

"Good," began Draco. "Now that we've settled that, would you like something to eat? I hardly think you could handle anything solid at this point, but we do have some rather tasty soup I think you might enjoy."

"Yes, thank you," Hermione responded. She watched as Draco went to fetch her the cup of soup. Have I been unfair to him? She wondered. It was true that he had made her life miserable at every opportunity during their school years, but ever since he had appeared in Dumbledore's office months before, he had not said a word against anybody. She had wondered if he had been up to something, and while he had been quite virtuous since his return, she still had her misgivings. A leopard cannot change his spots, no matter how hard he tries, Hermione thought.

You've been proven wrong before her conscience told her. You couldn't stand Ronald until he and Harry rescued you from that troll first year.

Ron. Now there was a person she longed to see. She and Ron had been close friends ever since their battle with the mountain troll, and that friendship had slowly involved into a deep love during their seventh year. They had talked of their future and had begun making plans for marriage and a family when the war openly began. All of their plans for the future put on hold; they had both rushed to join Harry and the other members of the Order to stop Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was only a few months after that when Hermione had become injured.

She felt so lost without Harry and Ron at her side. They had been there for every major event in her life since she began attending Hogwarts. It seemed every year something happened. The other students got to engage in frivolous pursuits, enjoying their youth, while the Golden Trio had to be ever on guard. Their youth had been left long before. Well, maybe not Ron's. That was something that Hermione loved so dearly about the youngest Weasley male. No matter how dark the situation seemed, trust Ron to make them laugh.

"Here's your soup," said Draco as he re-entered her room. Seeing the far away look in her eyes, he could only assume that she was thinking about his distant cousin, Weasley.

He had always mocked Weasley, but the truth was, he was envious of him. While Draco had status, and anything money could buy, he had never had love. His father had been proud of him until his rejection of all he had been taught. His mother, while distant, was always kind to him. The Weasley home, affectionately called the Borough, while meager in comparison to Malfoy Manor, was a home filled with happiness. What they lacked in material possessions was more than made up for with love.

Hermione began spooning the warm liquid into her mouth. Draco had been correct. It was delicious.

"So Malfoy," she started, "I don't believe that I have ever heard your version for leaving your father's side to fight against the death eaters. I'm curious, what cased your sudden reversal of beliefs?"

Draco sighed. He knew the day would come when she would ask. The only question that remained was exactly how much of his story he should tell her.