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Five Days	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters/concepts from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Day Four
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Hermione gently shushed into Draco’s ear as he retched. He sobbed on her shoulder after forcing himself to swallow the bitter bile that came up.
“It…it…hurts,” he cried, “so….much…”
“Sshhh,” she tried to soothe him as she’d done all morning and for the better part of the afternoon, stroking her hand over his sweat-matted hair. “I know…I know it hurts. You just have to stick it out a little while longer.”
“No-no one’s…coming,” he said through chattering teeth. “Gonna…gonna die here.”
“No,” Hermione said, attempting to rock herself against him to quell his near constant trembling, “someone will come. Someone will find us. Draco….Draco, someone will help us. Just hold on.”
He shook his head.
“We found each other out here, remember?” she tried again lamely.
“F-f-fate’s…a cruel…b-bitch,” he stuttered.
Hermione pursed her lips. “Why do you say that?”
Draco gave a tired, mirthless chuckle. “She gives…gives me what…what I’ve always wanted….shows me…what could’ve been…then…then kills me.”
“You’ve always wanted to be stuck in a hole?” Hermione joked darkly. The question coaxed a real laugh out of the ailing blond.
“Daft,” he said. “You…daft woman.”
“I thought I was a know-it-all?” she teased.
“You,” he repeated, “I’ve wanted you forever.”
Hermione lifted her head. “You wanted me fore-”
“Ssshhh!” Draco shushed her dramatically, “that’s supposed…to be a…a secret...can’t tell…”
“It’s official,” Hermione sighed, “your delirium has set in.”
“Not allowed,” Draco rambled on, “not allowed…to have what…what I want. Had to…had to hate. Taught to hate… Wanted… not allowed.”
“Draco…” Hermione said, her voice desperate as he lifted his head to look at her.
“Never happy,” he gasped, his bloodshot eyes filled with pain and remorse, “not allowed. I couldn’t…I was…did bad…bad things…didn’t want…”
Draco looked over at his Dark Mark, now obscured beneath the dark pustules of the gangrene ravaging his arm, and gagged again. He bowed his head as far down as he could and vomited violently between them.
Hermione turned her head away and cringed as she felt the runny sick seep between them and trickle down her trapped arm.
“I’m sorry,” Draco blubbered miserably, head still down. “So sorry…so….so fucking sorry.” He pressed his head forward against her shoulder. “Don’t…don’t want you to die…never wanted you to die…”
“Someone will come,” Hermione said, her lips quivering as she stared disconsolately at the wall, “someone has to come. Someone has to come.”
“Damn it…”
Hermione blinked away the tears blurring her vision. “What?”
“Fucking Potter…brought her to the World Cup…”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I tried…tried to keep her safe, goddamn it…wha-what the fuck else could I do…?”
“Draco…”
“’She’s not worthy, son’…’she’s filthy’. That’s…that’s what they all…they always sa-said,” Draco went on, slurring slightly. He shook his head against her. “I don’t believe…can’t. I don’t…I don’t want it, mum. Mum, don’t let them…please don’t let him.”
Hermione burst into sobs.
“It hurts!” Draco screamed into her chest. “It hurt so much…. so much. He hurt me.”
“I know,” Hermione wept in his ear, “I know, Draco. I know.”
“And you…you all hate me,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. No, I never did. I never hated you,” she insisted.
“Hate me,” he repeated. “Bad things…hated….just wanted you….just wanted…to be happy.”
“You’ve got me,” Hermione whimpered as he shivered fiercely, “I’m here. I’m here for you.”
“Gonna die,” he gasped. “Never have you…never happy.”
“Oh, gods,” Hermione cried, looking up to the heavens. “WHY!?” she suddenly shouted. “Why did you do this to us!?”
Draco started crying harder.
“I’M SORRY!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Hermione turned her attention back down at him. “Don’t be sorry,” she said, tears dripping from her nose, “don’t be sorry.”
“I’m dying,” he whimpered. “I can…can feel it. Tingly. Death…death is tingly.”
“It’s just the fever,” Hermione tried to calm him, rubbing her hand over his arm and shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “that…that I’m going to leave you…leave you alone.”
“Draco, you’re not going to die,” she protested vehemently. “Do you hear me, Draco Malfoy? You are NOT going to die in here.”
He lifted his head and blinked at her strangely. “Don wan weave oo,” he said, the words severely garbled, his eyes rolling back, “I sowy…so sor- aaaa….”
“Draco!” Hermione shrieked when he began seizing. She instinctively thrust her hand up and placed it behind his head to cushion it from slamming into the rock wall as he spasmed violently. She cried out in pain as she was kneed by his jerking legs. She blinked furiously to try and see through the freely flowing tears the pain from her knuckles being smashed between the stone and Draco’s skull was causing.
“Draco…” she sobbed loudly, “Draco…”
His seizing managed to yank his wedged arm free. It hit Hermione in the side of the face before flopping down directly between them. She took one look at it and gagged. She took one breath and vomited.
The tattered, emesis soaked limb mercifully slipped away and down to dangle at Draco’s side with his continued movements and Hermione sniveled as she tried to get control of herself.
“Please, no more,” she pleaded to the powers that be. As if they’d listened, Draco twitched to a stop.
Hermione, shaking so badly she might’ve been having her own seizure, carefully removed her bloodied, trembling hand from behind his head and placed it to his cheek. His eyes were open, but still rolled back and a thick line of blood and drool was leaking from his lax mouth.
“Dr-draco?”
He didn’t respond.
“Draco,” she said louder, pushing at him, “Draco, wake-up. You have to wake-up.”
She pushed at him harder but he still didn’t stir.
“Draco!” she screamed at him as she fumbled her fingers at his neck to feel for a pulse. A fresh round of tears began flowing when she felt the rapid, if faint, palpitation at his jugular.
“You’re alive,” she cried in relief that quickly turned back into panic, “…but you’re unconscious. Oh, shit. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no…”
Hermione looked about wildly as if some external force would suddenly come and offer assistance, then closed her eyes. “Think, think, think,” she chanted desperately, swiping the back of her hand over her mouth to wipe away the residue of sick.
Her eyes snapped open.
“Hang on, Draco,” she growled.
She took several enormous breaths to steady herself and then smoothed her hair calmly away from her face before leaning her forehead against his. She placed her hand back to his scruffy cheek and inhaled deeply again.
“This will work,” she said determinedly to herself as she closed her eyes again. Her face scrunched up then in pure concentration as she focused every ounce of her energy into the force of the spell as it roared from her lips.
“RENNERVATE!”
A blinding red light erupted from where their skin was touching and illuminated the crevice in all directions. The light was almost immediately joined with the echo of a loud, shuddering gasp that erupted from Draco’s throat as his eyes shot forward and he jerked to attention.
Hermione’s arm and head fell with exhaustion as the light quickly dissipated and Draco gaped with huge gulping, frantic breaths.
"Wha-" he started, his hand coming up to gingerly palm his mouth. He coughed several times and then pulled his hand away and blinked at the blood and saliva covering it. "What the hell happened?" he asked with a wince as he spoke around his bitten tongue.
When Hermione didn't answer, he looked down to see her with her eyes closed.
"Granger!?
She rolled her head to the side so he could see her face and opened her eyes. She smiled weakly. “Prick,” she breathed at him.
Draco’s feverish eyes rolled slightly when he blinked again. “Wha…what? What happened?” he asked stupidly. “And why do I suddenly feel like I took a Pepper-up potion?”
Hermione took in a strained breath as her lids slid shut again.
“Granger?” Draco said in an urgent tone. “Granger, what’s wrong!?”
“Need… rest,” she managed to get out.
“What happened?” he asked again.
“You…had a…seizure,” she answered very quietly. “I… had to…revive you.”
Draco stared at her. “Revive?”
She took several breaths before whispering, “Rennervate spell.”
“You cast a Rennervate on me, without a wand, without help?”
She merely hummed in the affirmative and Draco suddenly looked angry.
“Why would you do that?” he demanded to know.
Hermione cracked one eye open to peer up at him. “Had to…you were…uncon-“
Draco cut her off sharply, “You should’ve left me that way. Damn it, Granger. Why would you waste your energy like that?”
“I had to save you,” she said.
He shook his head and then set it back on the wall as his strength started to fade again as the effects of the spell wore off. “Granger, I’m done for. You know it. I know it. There’s no use to-” He stopped when he noticed the open space beside his head where his left arm used to be. He tilted his face down to look at it hanging limply at his side.
Hermione watched him blink at it a moment. “It came free… when you were seizing,” she explained. Draco returned his attention to her.
“Stop wasting your strength,” he said seriously.
“It’s not wasting it to save-” she tried to disagree, but he cut her off with an intense glare.
“Don’t try to save me anymore,” he snarled. “I’m not worth it. If I go out again, you leave me be.”
Hermione shook her head lightly on his shoulder. “No.”
Draco shook his head right back. “You’re still strong enough. You can…you can keep surviving without me until…look at me,” he ordered when she closed her eyes and went to shake her head again. He wiped his hand off on his shirt and then placed his palm to her cheek to make her look up at him.
“Mer...Merlin knows I don’t want to go,” his hoarse voice was suddenly softer, “that I don’t…I don’t want to leave you. But I’m…fuck, I’m barely keepin’ it together…”
Hermione started crying and Draco’s face screwed-up as he tried to keep from copying her. His hand gripped at the side of her head.
“Now, you… you fucking listen to me,” he grit out. “You let me die. You got it? Let me die. Save your energy, save yourself and use your brilliant mind to figure a way out of here and go…go live and do good things and be…” his voice cracked, “…be the best goddamn, pushiest godmother Potter ever could’ve possibly wished for. Do you understand me?”
“No.”
Draco’s features contorted with emotion at her quiet dissent and he pulled her head forward. He planted a hard kiss to her forehead. “Goddamn you,” he cursed her, his words muffled with the way his lips were still smashed against her skin.
Hermione’s body trembled as she raised her hand up to his face. “I won’t…” she whispered, setting her palm to his jaw. Draco pulled back then when, with obvious effort, she slowly lifted her head to look at him. “I won’t give up on you,” she finished.
Draco blinked at her, his eyes going slightly unfocused before he furrowed his brow and dropped his hand to his side. “Granger?”
Hermione rubbed her thumb over his short, blond whiskers in a soothing manner at his suddenly frightened tone. “Yeah…?”
He blinked again and looked about. “What’s going on?”
Her thumb stilled. “What?”
Draco’s eyes rolled and he rocked his head back and forth against the rock wall. “I don’t know where I am,” he said in a strangely detached voice. Hermione’s face fell with despair at the fact that the brief lucidity he’d gained from the spell was suddenly gone.
“Draco…” she called to him gently, her hand still pressed to his cheek as he continued to roll his head side to side.
“I can’t breathe,” he said, slightly panicked. “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
“You can,” she assured him firmly, steeling herself against her own exhaustion. “Draco, calm-”
His hand came up again and he swatted hers away from his face before he began pushing at her shoulder. “Get off!” he bellowed desperately. “I can’t breathe. Get off me!”
“You CAN breathe. If you can shout, you can breathe,” she tried to reason with him, grimacing as he shoved at her.
Draco suddenly stopped pushing and gripped his fingers into her. “Oh, no,” he wheezed. “Oh, no, no, no…”
“Draco, what is-”
He made a loud, pained groan and then dropped his forehead to rest on his hand on her shoulder and started crying again. Hermione immediately began petting at his head again and had opened her mouth to say something soothing, but he spoke up first.
“You were wrong about being constipated until I died,” he blubbered. Hermione closed her eyes at that.
“It’s okay,” she shushed, resting her head on top of his. Her nose scrunched up at the new smell infusing the air, but she kept on comforting him. “It’s okay, Draco. It’s okay.”
They carried on that way for several minutes until Draco’s sobs finally subsided to hiccoughing sniffles.
“I-I-I…I did…y-you kn-kn-know…” he stuttered hoarsely then, his body taken to shivering again.
Hermione opened her eyes and stared miserably at the opposite wall as she felt him struggle to breathe. “Did what?” she asked in a whimper.
“I m-made…the team…myself.”
Hermione lifted her head to look down at him, but he raised his as well and cast his wild eyes about at the walls.
“I made the team myself,” he repeated. “All by myself.”
“I’m sure you did,” she said back sadly.
Draco moved his gaze to stare at her a moment and then blinked slowly several times. Hermione held her breath when she saw clarity and recognition finally settle back into his eyes. “Draco?”
His expression became grief-stricken. “Gods, Granger, I’m so sorry.”
Hermione grabbed for his hand and interlocked their fingers. “Don’t be sorry,” she said fiercely, “just don’t give up. Don’t give up.”
Draco stared at her for another short moment and then gave her a nod. He set his forehead to hers and he returned the squeeze when Hermione tightened her hold on his hand.
“Don’t give up,” she begged him again. “Don’t you dare give up.”
- 9
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- 11
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Five Days