Will She Bleed Brown?

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It had been a long day, and he didn't even want to finish his night patrol. He just wanted to Apparate straight into his bed.

It had only been an hour, and he had already found a third-year Ravenclaw in the Restricted Section, two fourth-year Gryffindors in the Astronomy Tower, and one very odd second-year girl conversing with Moaning Myrtle. He was now heading towards the Ravenclaw Tower.

Draco's strides were usually swift, but his tiredness forced him to drag his feet heavily on the floor. He paused when he came upon a door to an unused classroom. A faint light was flickering through the crack under the door. His head lolled back, and he stared at the ceiling, fully considering just ignoring the whispering students on the other side of the door and finishing off his patrol.

Finishing my patrol would be pointless if I'm not even going to take care of my responsibilities while on that patrol, he thought. Draco groaned, hating the logic of his conscience.

Pointing his wand at the door knob, he mumbled, "Alohomora," and he pushed the door open. Across the room was a small group of Slytherins including Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and a few other fifth- and sixth-year boys. The group looked up at Draco, who stood still in the doorway.

"Ah, Malfoy, we thought you'd be patrolling tonight," said Blaise, smirking menacingly at him.

Draco slouched slightly, annoyed by his bit of bad luck. "You lot get back to the common room, or I'm going to have to assign detentions with Filch."

Blaise, Goyle, and Nott got up and crossed the room to him. "Come on, Draco. You've been so uptight since you became Head Boy. Why don't you relax a bit, eh?" Nott suggested. Goyle cracked his knuckles, and Blaise continued to smirk at him.

Draco clenched his fist around the end of his wand in his pocket. He did not want to deal with them tonight. "I'm already letting you off with a warning. Now, let's go."

Nott narrowed his eyes and stared him down. Draco thought for a moment that he was going to resist, but then Nott turned and waved the other boys over. "You heard what he said. Let's go."

Draco held the door open, and they began filing out. The last to exit the room was Blaise. Holding Draco's stare, he spoke to the rest of the group, "Yes, let's hurry. Wouldn't want to make our Head Boy late for meeting Miss Muddy in their common room."

Draco whipped out his wand and jabbed it right under Blaise's chin. As he did, one of the sixth years pulled his own out and leveled it at Draco's eyes. Blaise looked nearly as shocked as Draco felt. Sure, he had come to respect Granger. Hell, he may have even grown to like her a little. But the amount of anger that ran through him when Blaise insulted her was surprising.

"Come now, children. Wouldn't want to make a mess in the hallway," said Nott.

Draco gritted his teeth and glared at Blaise for a moment before he slowly lowered his wand. The other boy pulled his away from Draco and stuck it back in his pocket. The group stood in tense silence for a moment before Blaise shook his head slowly, a look of disgust on his face. "What the hell have you become?"

Draco glared at him. I've become something better than you. I've stopped being such a blind, daft idiot and pulled myself out of the limits of my father's expectations. If the rest of you lot would just pull your bloody heads out of your arses, you might realize that, Draco thought. But this wasn't something he was about to say to Blaise Zabini.

Blaise broke eye contact by turning toward the rest of the group. "Come on then. Let's get back to the common room and allow Draco to get back to darning elf socks with the Mudblood."

It took every ounce of his self-control to keep himself from cursing Blaise's bollocks off. Blaise took a few steps away, but then he paused and turned around to face Draco again.

"Oh, there's something I've wanted to ask you, Malfoy. If you cut her, will she bleed brown, or will her blood be just as red as your mum's was when she died?"

Draco suddenly saw red. Any anger that he was attempting to restrain was flowing freely now, and he balled up his fist and punched Blaise square in the jaw. He swung again and felt Blaise's nose crunch under the impact of his knuckles. Turning, he saw Goyle's fist coming at him and had only a moment to ready himself for the intense pain that burst through his face. Stars exploded behind his eyelids, and he felt another strike to his temple before everything faded to black.

*****

"Malfoy?"

Draco could hear a distant, echoing voice calling his name. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or if it was real, but the tone had a certain urgency ringing in it. His whole body was aching and heavy, and he was in too much pain to move. There was a bitter and coppery taste in his mouth.

"Malfoy!"

The voice was louder now, and the fog was clearing from his mind.

"Draco!"

The voice was feminine and somehow comforting. Draco wanted the voice to keep saying his name. Then he heard a sniffle.

"Please, Draco! Wake up!" the voice pleaded with urgency.

He tried to open his eyes. His right eye was throbbing and refusing to open, but through his left, he could just make out the outline of big, frizzy hair in the dim light.

"Frizzy hair..." he mumbled. "Granger?"

"Oh," she let out a small sob. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Draco gave her the best smirk he could manage. "Are you crying?"

He could barely see her frown. "No." She sniffled again. "Can you walk? We have to get you to the infirmary."

His strength was returning, and he could think clearly now. Swallowing down the bitter liquid that had been filling his mouth, he sat up as best as he could. He was hurting everywhere. Something was streaming from his nose, which he noticed was oddly bent to one side. He hoped it was blood. Blood would look at least somewhat respectable; snot would just be embarrassing. He wiped at the bottom of his nose, causing intense pain to shoot through his nose and to his forehead. He winced and looked at his hand. Blood.

"We can't go to the infirmary." Hermione gave him a puzzled look. "If word gets out that I was in the infirmary, Father will want to know what happened," he answered her silent question.

She furrowed her brow but nodded in understanding. "Can you walk back to the common room?"

"I'm not an invalid, Granger." Although I bloody well feel like one. He grimaced as he stood and forced his wobbly legs to hold him up.

"Yes, well, you looked like a bruised and bloodied rag doll when I found you." She swung his left arm over her shoulders and allowed him to lean into her. His right arm hung limply at his side. It felt as if it were broken in at least two places.

He groaned at the mental image of his weak form lying on the ground like a broken toy. She kept her arm around his waist as they hobbled down the hallway together, and he groaned in pain the whole way.

*****

She left him on the sofa in front of the fireplace while she ran to her bathroom. She came back carrying a bowl of water, a couple of flannels, and two unlabeled bottles. She set it all down on the floor next to the couch and helped him carefully remove his shoes and cloak. After noticing the blood on her hands after setting down his cloak, she picked it back up to realize that the black fabric was wet.

Hermione turned back to face him and noticed the blood staining the front of his white shirt. It had been running down from his nose and dribbling a little from the corner of his mouth. She wet down a flannel and used it to clean up his face. Then she removed his tie and unbuttoned the front of his shirt to reveal multiple bruises marring the pale skin of his chest and ribs.

"Alright, we need to get this shirt off."

He helped her pull it off and gritted his teeth as she carefully peeled the sleeve over his right arm. They both grimaced while looking at his bare forearm. It was bent awkwardly in two places where joints definitely didn't belong.

"Okay, I can fix that," she assured him.

"You're not going to pull a 'Lockhart' are you?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. She pulled out her wand, and with a few complicated swirls and a mumbled spell, his arm began straightening itself out. He shut his one good eye and gritted his teeth as his bones began painfully pulling themselves back into place. It only took a moment, but the pain made him dizzy.

When she pointed her wand directly in his face, his left eye grew wide. His right eye twitched slightly but remained swollen shut.

"What're you doing?" His voice was shaky.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Your nose looks broken too."

He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and prepared himself for the pain. The sharp pain that burst through his face and the loud crunching sound were almost enough to make him pass out. But when he opened his eyes, he realized that his nose was back on the center of his face where it belonged.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Draco nodded at her and laid back on the sofa.

Hermione wet another flannel and cleaned his face, chest, and neck of sweat and blood. She dried him off and carefully applied Murtlap Essence to his various cuts and scrapes. She was slow and gentle, casting Scourgify to clean each individual wound and then dabbing the potion in place.

"How did you come across me?"

Hermione paused and looked up at him. "When you didn't come back, I was wondering what was taking you so long," she answered while corking the bottle and picking up the other one. "I got worried," she added in a small voice.

She rubbed a generous supply of Bruise-Healing Paste into his skin, rubbing it over his shoulders and ribs. She could feel his heart beating under her hand, and she smiled to herself as he breathed a sigh of contentment. She couldn't believe how open he was being. How he was allowing her to take care of him while he was so physically and emotionally vulnerable. He had trusted her before because Dumbledore had asked it of him; he was trusting her now of his own accord.

His breathing was now heavy and even, and Hermione thought he was asleep. But when she touched a small bruise on his chin, he opened his left eye. She smiled at him, and he slowly lifted one corner of his mouth to smile back. She turned her attention back to the bruise on his chin, but his eyes never left her face.

As she worked on the bruises on his left cheekbone and temple, he continued to watch her face. She pursed her lips slightly and kept her brow furrowed the way she did when she was studying. He liked the idea that she was putting as much focus into healing him as she put into her studies.

Draco winced as she gently rubbed some of the paste around his right eye. He could feel her small breaths on the side of his face, warming his skin. When she finished, Hermione looked at him and held eye contact for a moment. She felt her heart ache for him; not just with sympathy, but with... something else. Her stomach flipped, and when she realized how close her face was to his, she blushed and turned away.

Hermione stood up from the edge of the sofa and turned toward him, still holding the open bottle of Bruise-Healing Paste. "You will have to, um," she paused a moment to clear her throat, "sit up so I can get your back."

"Oh, yes, of course." He sat up and slid to the edge of the sofa, facing forward. Hermione sat down next to him, further back so she could reach his back. She applied a liberal amount and began rubbing it in to his warm skin. One bruise on his side was shaped much like the bottom of a male's shoe. She shuddered at the thought of someone actually stomping their foot into his side and forced her attention back to the other bruises.

When she finished, she kneeled beside the sofa to gather the things she had brought out. Draco laid back down on the couch and sighed.

"Do you feel like moving to your room, or would you like me to bring some blankets out here for you?"

"Blankets would be lovely."

"I'll be right back then." She took the potions, flannels, and the bowl of water back to her bathroom and went to his room. Entering, she deeply inhaled the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. She recognized the scent from the last time she had been in his room. Hermione had always thought of vanilla as a more feminine scent and not necessarily belonging in a boy's bedroom, but then she wondered if that is what Narcissa used to smell like. She wondered if he kept more of her belongings besides the necklace.

She gathered up his blankets and a pillow from his bed. Hermione couldn't resist lightly pressing her face into his comforter and inhaling. It smelled of Draco, all warm and rich. She carried the bundle out to the common room and carefully tucked Draco in. His left eyelid drooped and he snuggled into the warm blankets. With a wave of her wand, Hermione snuffed out all the candles in the room, and the only light left was coming from the fireplace.

"Goodnight." She turned to walk to her own room, but Draco quickly sat up, and she paused.

"Um... Hermione." He looked away from her, embarrassed of what he wanted to ask. He feared sounding like a toddler in need of his mother. "Would you mind staying out here tonight? With me?"

She nodded her head, finding his request endearing. "Of course." She changed in her room and brought out her own blankets and pillow. She spread them out on the floor and curled up, preparing for sleep. They smiled at each other one last time for the night before dozing off in front of the crackling fire.

TBC