In Love & Hatred - Dramione

The Hospital Wing

Hermione

Blades of the overgrown grass rustled, the calming breeze kissed her scorched and bruised skin. The aches that had been kept at bay for so long rushed over her like a tide. She could hear deep, hurried conversing in the areas close by where she lay. A hoarse groan escaped her lips as her eyelids slid open.

"Hermione! Are you alright?!"

Harry had rushed to her side, taking hold of her hand and wrist. His outlined was blurred against the moonlight.

"What's.. what's going on?" she groaned once more.

"We are back at the castle," his tone was reassuring, "Greyback is gone."

Her heart skipped a few beats of at the mention of her captor's name. "How could you be sure?"

"Fiendfyre," he uttered. "He was swallowed by fiendfyre."

"Fiendfyre?!" she cried, struggling to sit upright.

"No, Hermione, stay still. Hagrid's gone for help. It's best for you not to move from where you are."

She obeyed although her heart rate quickened as flashes of wildfire chased each other through her memory. 

"I thought.. Wait.. Draco! Where's Draco?!" 

"He's here, Hermione, relax."

"Is he okay?!" 

Her eyes had finally found him sprawled across the lawn. Against Harry's protests, she crawled toward him unable to find the strength to stand. The tips of her fingers floated across his face. His hair was blackened by soot, caustic burns where splattered over every inch of his exposed skin. What had been left of his clothing was singed to a crisp fray. With trembling fingers, she felt his chest for a heartbeat. There it was, faint, but resilient.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving trails in the ash that stained her face. Her gaze found Harry, finally focusing on him properly. His skin had been charred in every place that had not been covered by the remains of his clothing.

"I'm so s-s-sorry," she stammered, "If I h-h-hadn't.. If I would have j-j-just.."

Harry bound her in a tight embrace. He had not uttered a word but his meaning was quite plain. Her body shook with renewed sobs, muffled into his collar as he soothed her. 

Light cascaded over the stone steps when the oak doors were pulled open. Professor McGonagall rushed toward them, her familiar tartan dressing gown billowing, with Madame Pomfrey and Hagrid close behind her in tow.

"Oh, my goodness!" she breathed when she reached them, "Miss Granger! Mr. Potter! What.. What happened here?!" 

Neither of them spoke as her misted eyes search their faces. 

"Poppy," she gestured to Madame Pomfrey, "if you please."

The pair swished their wands in a complicated movement and conjured three identical, hovering stretchers.

"M'alright, Professor, I can walk.." Harry pleaded.

"Potter, this isn't a request. Get yourself and Miss Granger on the stretchers. I will take care of Mr. Malfoy here."

She pointed with conviction, her lips thinned with severity. Harry dared not to disobey and pulled Hermione onto the stretcher. Professor McGonagall cast a hover charm and lifted Draco's limp form onto the final bed. 

The grounds were silent apart from the murmuring winds that swayed the branches of trees and lengths of grass. Argus Filch's shadow lingered in the entrance, a pair of lamp-like eyes gleaming from behind his ankles.