Left Behind 2: Illusions (A Dramione Romance)

Leaning

"Granger!" Draco called out to Hermione and rushed over to her body.

In an instant she turned and the small paring knife in her hands was suddenly at his throat.

Draco froze instinctively feeling the sharp edge press into his neck. The position was hard on his knees, but he didn't dare move.

"Don't touch me," she ordered.

Draco held up his hands in surrender while his eyes looked her up and down to check for injuries. He saw that her clothing was bloodstained, however he couldn't see any open wounds on her skin.

Draco swallowed.

She's alive, focus on that.

But did he...?

A quick glance over the scene in front of him told him that she had killed the deatheater before he had managed to touch her.

"Are you okay?" he managed, not knowing what else to say.

"Do I look okay to you Malfoy?" she asked shaking her head in disbelief at him asking that kind of a question given the situation. "I just killed a man," she barked the word out. "I'll never be okay from that."

"It was self defense," Draco argued back.

She couldn't blame herself for this. She shouldn't have been forced into a situation like this in the first place.

"How do you know that?" Hermione's voice was loud.

It was Draco's turn to look at her incredulously.

Because I know you, he thought quietly, and I know you wouldn't just kill a man in cold blood.

"It doesn't change what I did," she said lowly.

"It's not your fault."

"But..."

"It's not your fault Granger," Draco said again, firmly but softly.

She looked up at him and he saw tears well in her eyes.

Please don't cry. It guts me when you cry.

"Can I take you back to my room please?" He offered, wanting to take her away from this place which held too many horrible memories. "You can wash up, change into some fresh clothes."

"I'm not wearing your clothes."

Somehow those words hurt Draco. A part of him had liked seeing her in his clothes. He had liked the look of them on her sure, but it was more than that.

It's because when she wears them it makes it seem like she's yours.

That's so wrong of you to think especially now, when she is vulnerable like this. She's not yours.

She will never be yours.

"That's fine, I don't care whose clothes you wear," he said dismissively deciding that this was not the time to argue semantics. He wanted to get her somewhere safe that was his first priority. "I just figure you don't want to stay in ones soaked with the blood of the man you just killed," Draco's voice was harsher than he intended as he was distracted by the excruciating pounding in his head. As he reached to press a palm against his temple he felt the world tilt. His legs suddenly felt boneless; he wobbled.

You should have listened to your mother and stayed in bed. Fainting here won't do anyone any good, his internal critic chastised.

I couldn't just leave her, he answered back.