Hermione
Bursts of glacial winds whipped at her cheeks, solidifying the tears against her skin. Each iced droplet burned into her flesh like the arctic dagger of a scorned Jack Frost. Ron disappeared suddenly, leaving only the residue of his searing ire. Her feet acted of their own accord. Away they rushed, carrying her through the rustling thicket. Twisting branches thrashed in the screaming winds, clashing against one another like a drunken brawl.
How could he do this to me? How could he be so cruel?
Agonizing questions dizzied her vision as she desperately evaded the frozen pockets of water. The air beat against the rigid trunks as a sudden frenzied cry halted her escape. Her conscience lingered, her body daring to move closer to the distressed sound. Hints of familiarity in the sound fed her curiosity.
What could that be?
Her trepidation to move into the firing range of danger begged for a pause. Once more the cry carried, pleading of anguish and desperation. Harsh divots of the tree trunks provided brace as she ventured inward.
"HERMIONE!"
"DRACO!"
In the midst of confrontation, she had forgotten that she had left Draco to brave the crowd to fetch her scarf. Her eyes strained to scan the obscure darkness as her heart pounded in a frenzy. Internally the berating began for disappearing without a trace.
"Hermione.."
His call weakened considerably into an almost inaudible whisper carrying into the howling winds. Pockets of frozen puddles appeared more frequently as she combed through the treacherous roots. Every ounce of air drained from her lungs as she called to him one final time. Just then, between the density of trees a subtle movement caught her attention.
"Draco.."
A peaked hand lay against the ground with fallen debris clutched in his fist. Hermione moved quickly to kneel by his side. Claw marks had been drawn into the solid ground where he valiantly attempted to free himself from the cruel locking of roots. Like a perfunctory reflex her wand withdrew from her pocket in a fluid movement he was liberated.
"Don't.." his meek voice broke.
Rolling him to her lap, she brushed the soot and hair from his face. "Don't what?"
"Don't.. Don't go with him.."
Hermione couldn't help but exhale in amusement that his first concern would be of Ron's absurd attempts. Of course there was no question in her mind where her heart belonged. "Darling, I wouldn't dream of running away with him." her voice soothed with as much gentility as she could muster.
"Good.."
"We must go! The winds are becoming more violent and I fear the worst may be awaiting us if we don't leave now. Are you able to walk?"
Draco struggled to rise to his feet. His ankle gave way the moment he shifted to support his full weight. "I won't be able to move quickly. I can no longer feel my feet but I can feel a sharp ache in my leg."
"Take my arm, we shall move together."
Obliging her command, he embraced her support. Hermione strained to keep a quickened pace without causing excess pressure to his damaged extremity. Hogsmeade had long since been occupied. Fresh snow canvased the stone pathways without a single trace of boot prints left to be seen. The jagged staircase leading to the castle doors moved into view. Eerie worry set into her core at the lack of human presence. Not a single shoppe sported a lit window. Suddenly, Draco ceased and refused to move.
"Did you hear that?"
Her focus catered only to their venture to safety and took little notice of much else. "What did you hear?"
"That.. howl.."
Panic seized her breath and heartbeat. The connotation of the howl only presented probable dread and despair. Her grip tightened on his overcoat. "It couldn't have been close.."
"Not likely that it was.. We should hurry in the chance that it may be soon."
The doors stretched further as the iced stairs threatened to injure her as well. Conquering the last steps, they crept inward from the creaking doors into the warmth of the burning sconces. Distant voices sauntered through the halls of the students that had not yet retired to their chambers.
"Draco, we should go to the hospital wing. Madame Pomphrey will need to look at your leg in the chance that it may be broken."
"No. No hospital wing.."
"But, Draco-"
"If we go to the hospital wing, Madame Pomphrey will insist on asking questions I am not inclined to answer. Secondly, she will force you to leave and return back to your quarters. Besides, you wouldn't force me to spend Christmas alone now, would you?" His signature grin managed to find its way to his expression through the beaten pain.
Slightly shocked and amused by his charm, even through the last wretched hour, she paused to absorb his witty retort. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't ask you to brave such a horrid concept," she humored his banter, "However, where could we possibly go?"
"Well, there is always our Room of Requirement."
"Perhaps so, but Draco, that is seven flights of stairs. There is no possible chance we could make it in your condition let alone be caught by anyone who may be observing curfew soon. I suppose we could go to my room. Most of the Gryffindors are gone so we would not need to worry about bypassing many onlookers."
Draco acquiesced to her alternative and attempted to make longer strides up the ever-changing stairwells and to the familiar portrait of the snarky, large woman. The Fat Lady was hosting a miss-matched gathering in her frame when Hermione and Draco approached. Stained wine glasses littered the bottom of the canvas along with a nearly comatose Roman soldier in a toga hiccuping on the floor at the Fat Lady's feet.
"Hem, hem," Hermione coughed.
The Fat Lady wailed Christmas carols poorly with a gaunt woman dressed in a pest-infested powdered wig and rose coattails. Their lyrics were vague at best as they stumbled through an unheard tune of Saint Nicholas.
"Hem, hem," Hermione coughed once more.
"Shh, shh! Not now! We were right in the middle of something!" The Fat Lady held up her finger. "Now, dear Maive, where were we?"
"I believe we were trying to decipher the next verse of.." The voice of the woman in the wig trailed away as she released an inebriated hiccup, "of.. Ye Merry Clause.. No, Ye Merry Santa.. Santa pants.. Fat man!"
Hermione's patience had far spread thin. "Holly and nettles," she interrupted.
"My dear Maive! I do believe you are drunk!" The Fat Lady clapped her hands together.
"Holly and nettles..:" Hermione enunciated through grit teeth.
"Ugh! Alright, alright! Pass through, I suppose."
The portrait swung forward as giggles and hiccups erupted from the painting. Draco had moved out of sight and slid into the opening undetected. Hermione gestured for him to stay in the hole while she ensured a safe passage. Smoldering embers glowed in the blackened firebox as two second years slept awkwardly in the winged armchairs. Festive paper littered the floor around the pair of exploding knick knacks and seasonal sweets.
Draco soon followed her approving nod up the final flight of stairs into her personal chambers. Immediately, Hermione buzzed about him as she stripped his saturated garb. Her nimble fingers moved quickly to which she soon ushered him to rest on her bed.
"Is it always so difficult for you to gain entry?" Draco's query broke her concentration.
"No, it isn't always such a struggle. She can be a bit dramatic and thus difficult to comply with your wishes. It is rather frustrating when she insists on creating such a scene."
"I can't imagine what it would be like to deal with her behavior on a regular basis."
Hermione smiled at his remark as she began to unlace his boots, careful to not twist his wounded ankle. Draco grimaced slightly at the pain. Her fingers gingerly removed his woolen sock to reveal violently purple and black bruising at his heel and joint.
"Oh, Draco! This very much looks broken! Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I will do my best to mend the bones but it will not be comfortable to say the least. Madame Pomphrey would be better suited to mend the bone.."
"There's no one I trust more than you. You are brilliant." His hand moved to grip hers in assurance, accompanied with a trusting smile.
Hermione nodded and removed a few vials from her personal storage. Like a skilled healer, she began to cleanse and dress his wound. For a few moments, she worked in determined silence as Draco overlooked her handiwork. She could feel the questions linger in his conscience.
"Would you.. Nevermind.."
"Would I what, darling?" she ceased her work as she surveyed his face.
"Would you have gone with him if I had not been there?"
"Of course not, Draco. There is no question as to where my heart belongs and where I want to be."
Draco paused thoughtfully, "He almost sounded.. pleading. Like something depended on your leaving with him."
Hermione turned toward him and stroked the ashen skin of his leg, "He does know about the two of us and one day he will come to understand. As I have told you before there is much history that remains between him and I. There is a possibility that he may have thought me traitorous for consorting with you. My hope is that one day he will come to accept that you and I are together. That is wishful thinking but please know that there is nothing that he can say to convince me to leave one of the most wondrous things I have ever experienced."
Another moment of gentle silence passed before Draco moved to make a gesture, "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too, Draco."
Her wand slipped from the pocket of her overcoat and aimed to his ankle, before she could utter the words, he gasped, "My wand! I must have left it in the thicket of trees!"
"O-Oh, don't worry. It is far to dangerous or too cold to go back and search for it. I will go out in the morning and do my best to recover it."
"I couldn't let you go back by yourself, not with hearing that thing earlier.."
A twisted ache pulled at her stomach with remembering the wolf-like cry. "Don't worry, I won't need to get close."
"Alright, my love.."
Once more she pointed her wand at his ankle and tapped twice. "Ferula," she muttered. Bandages spun gracefully around his joint securing it tightly to a splint.
"Perfect," he smiled, admiring her work.
Hermione fetched additional blankets from a cupboard and draped them over where he lay. Desperate to get some rest, Hermione began to undress herself and into a silken slip and robe. From the bed she heard a low growl. Without acknowledging his suggestive attempts, she smiled. "You do realize that nothing will occur tonight, especially in that condition."
Draco chuckled, "I wasn't hinting at anything. I was merely expressing my appreciation." His innocent tone was anything but.
"Of course, how could I assume anything otherwise?" Her playful tone mimicked his own as she moved close into his side.
His hand traveled over her form, stopping to caress her most intimate points without expectation for something more in return. The warmth of his bodily heat soothed her frayed nerves. Together their breathing slowed and a deep slumber took the pair for its captives.
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Lingering thoughts of retrieving Draco's wand pulled Hermione from her peaceful rest and alert into reality. Draco had surrendered to the demanding pull of restful recovery and remained asleep. She dared not disturb him as she dressed in layers. Slipping on her boots, she artfully shut her chamber door without the crack of a single sound.
Clatter of forks and knives against metal platters replaced the silent crackle of the lit torches. Hermione's idea to attain Draco's wand was simple. She had remembered Harry's triumph against the Hungarian Horntail in the Triwizard Tournament. He had managed to summon his broom from a lengthy distance using only his wand and concentration. The middle of the descending staircase leading to the village seemed to be the most opportune place to conduct her magic.
Hermione's hands extended in front of her with her wand clasped firmly in her dominant hand. Several appeasing breaths filled her lungs as she steadied her mind to focus on her target. Picturing his wand, she muttered, "Accio Draco's wand."
An almost undetectable twitch shook her wand as if a subtle current kicked her wand into action. With her eyes closed, she waited for the distinct whistle of an object slicing through open air. Moments past before a faint whoosh sounded from the distance. A black dash appeared in the distance zooming quickly to her position.
Elation overtook her that the charm had succeeded over such a great distance. This happiness was short lived once Draco's wand slowed to a halt just before her. On the handle were indention markings resembling teeth in the handle. Hermione's fingers extended to hover over the unmistakable platters of dried blood and tufts of silver hair.
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Please forgive the grammatical errors. It is very late at night and I wanted to issue this chapter since I have yet to do so in such a long time. I will edit any errors I recognize in the morning. Happy reading!! <3