Defending the Dark (Dramione)

Chapter 13: I Wish

When Draco entered the meeting room the next day, Hermione took one look at him and dropped the papers she was holding.

"Malfoy!" She was by his side in an instant. "What happened to you?"

"A run-in with some Death Eaters yesterday." He eased himself into his chair, grimacing in pain. "It's surprising, really, the punches some of them can throw when they've done nothing but wave a wand their entire lives."

Hermione knelt next to him to survey the damage. Draco knew his left eye was black and swollen, and his lip was split. His nose had also been broken and poorly repaired. Several bruises and cuts ran down the visible parts of his arms, and some broken ribs made his breath and speech erratic.

"Merlin, Malfoy! You look awful! Why didn't anyone heal you?"

He smirked, then said darkly, "This is after they healed me . . . It seems Azkaban isn't too worried about keeping their prisoners in optimal shape."

"That's terrible!" Her eyes flashed. "Those Death Eaters better be getting punished for this, and I'm going to have a word with the Azkaban officials. This never should have happened in the first place! And what type of Healer do they have on staff? This is clear incompetence and inhumane treatment of prisoners!"

Hermione's outrage reminded Draco of one of her house-elf rants she made at Hogwarts. Oddly enough, her irate tirade made him feel better. If it had been for anyone else, he would have found it extremely annoying, but somehow, the fact that she was so worked up for his sake was quite endearing.

"It's fine, Granger," he said. "Everything will heal on its own in time and, honestly, I do feel better than I did yesterday." He shifted in his seat. "Besides, that's not what's important. What type of wards do you have set up around your place?"

"The best. Why?" She knit her brows at his sudden change of topic.

Draco hesitated. He didn't want to scare her, but at the same time, he also wanted her to be safe. The latter desire won out and he sighed. "One of the Death Eaters threatened you."

"What? Who?"

"Antonin Dolohov—he said he was going to send someone after you. Just be careful, please. Take Potter or Weasley with you when you go out places, at least until after the trial."

She frowned. "I don't understand. Why would he target me?"

"He probably knows you're my only chance at a decent trial."

"But still—"

"Look, he hates me, all right? He's always hated my family, and I'm sure the fact that I tortured him didn't help."

Hermione was still kneeling by his side, and as Draco regarded her, he felt the same wave of protectiveness that had come over him right before he punched Dolohov. "Just promise me that you'll be careful," he said softly.

"I will." She gave him an odd look. "I always am. Honestly, I get threats all the time—from both sides."

"Well, be more careful. I know firsthand what these people are capable of."

"Yes, well"—she raised an eyebrow—"I think the current state of your face is a clear example of that. I'll certainly be reporting Dolohov to the Azkaban officials to make sure he can't have any more contact with you."

"Fine. Just as long as you watch yourself too." He wasn't sure whether to scream or laugh at the way she still, somehow, managed to be the one in control of the situation.

Hermione inclined her head. "Who threw the first punch?"

Draco set his mouth in a firm line. "I did."