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Breaking the Chain	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 42452 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that belongs to the glorious J.K Rowling. I don't make any money off of this writing, I simply twist her world for my own pleasure.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
"Hermione. Hermione, love. Open your eyes now."
Hermione could feel the fuzzy edges of consciousness slowly coming within reach. She felt heavy, lethargic, and so, so tired…
And then she felt the pain. Intense, agonizing, all-consuming pain.
"Shh. Hush now, little one. It's alright. I know it hurts, I know, but you must be quiet now."
The woman's cool voice washed over her, comforting. Hermione hadn't realized she'd been moaning but she somehow knew the woman's words were true. She had to keep quiet…there was a reason. If only she could grasp it...
"Nay, do not go back to sleep. Come along now, we must hurry."
Hermione felt herself being lifted gently to her feet and she clutched the arms that held her up as her head swam, pounding something fierce. She opened her eyes blearily and the world slowly fell back into place. A man was holding her upright; Hermione clung to his forearms to keep her balance as her knees threatened to buckle. And beside him was a woman who gazed at her with worry etched in her smooth skin. A woman who looked oddly familiar...
"You're-"
"Yes, I knew what you were the moment I saw you. There's no time to explain now, we must hurry."
It was the woman who had stood beside her in the crowd of the town center, questioning her before they had brought Malfoy out.
Malfoy!
"We have to find Malfoy," Hermione slurred, her tongue thick in her mouth and sore where she had most likely bit it. "Where is he?"
"We are going to get him now," the woman explained calmly. "We have Stunned the guards but they will not stay that way forever. We have to hurry, this way."
The woman led the way out of what appeared to be a cell, the man still supporting her urging her forward. Hermione knew she shouldn't trust strangers, but she felt a stirring deep inside that these were no ordinary people. There was something they exuded that spoke to the deepest parts of her soul. Besides, there was no way for her to escape on her own, and if they knew where Malfoy was...she had no choice but to trust them and follow their lead.
Hermione's wrists burned and glancing at them she could tell she had been chained up. These unknown liberators must have broken her free.
The door to her cell was already open and they hurried down a narrow corridor filled with cells identical to her own. They were in a dungeon of some sort. Hermione shivered in fear and the man who still had a firm grasp of her arm drew her close, supporting her weight as her weak legs trembled beneath her. Every part of her throbbed with pain and her head pounded in agony so intense she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Only the knowledge that Malfoy was close kept her going.
The woman stopped at a door and looked at the lock. Suddenly, it sprang open and Hermione's eyes widened at this wandless display of magic.
"Wait, how did you-? You can do magic?"
"Yes, Hermione. We are witches, just like you."
Hermione eyed the pretty woman wearily. "How do you know my name?"
She nodded into the cell. "He was screaming it when they dragged you away."
Hermione gasped. Malfoy! Hurrying past the witch into the cramped chamber, her stomach churned at the sight that awaited her. His hands were shackled up above his head which was slumped onto his chest in slumber. Hermione knelt beside him and assessed his wounds. His face was a mass of bruises and caked blood, a piece of rotten tomato plastered in his hair which she quickly swept away. One hand was swollen and bloody, obviously broken. His breath was slow and shallow and she nervously put her hand lightly on his cheek, not wanting to hurt him further.
"Malfoy, wake up."
He roused slowly as she spoke to him, the strangers behind her drawing near. Eventually he groaned and opened one blood crusted eye.
"Granger! Argh!" he hissed in pain as he wrenched against the chains in an attempt to get to her. She hushed him and he settled back, his glassy eyes widening, taking in his surroundings.
"You're alive!" he croaked incredulously. "What happened? How did you get away? The last time I saw you-"
"There's no time to explain now," the woman said behind her, coming over to the pair. "The guards will awaken any moment."
Malfoy turned his gaze to the woman and looked at Hermione questioningly. She nodded to let him know he could trust her. He didn't question further just murmured his thanks when the woman ran a hand over the shackles holding his arms to the wall. He rubbed his swollen wrist and pressed his good hand against the wall to get to his feet.
Hermione started to get up and then noticed a hand in front of her. It was Malfoy's. Eyeing him curiously, she hesitantly accepted his gesture and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He looked away as if embarrassed and then looked back at her.
"Thanks for, you know..."
She nodded, stunned that Malfoy had actually thanked her. It was so out of character for him to be appreciative of anything anyone did for him that she was, for a moment, speechless.
"Come, now," the woman bade, leading the way back down the corridor to a steep set of stairs. Hermione's head ached at the thought of having to climb them but forged ahead regardless. At the top she was so light headed that she had to stop for a moment to catch her breath, clutching the wall as her vision swam.
"Are you alright?" Malfoy asked, his good hand on her shoulder, steading her. Hermione froze with uncertainty. Why was he being so nice?
Realizing she was simply staring at him, she nodded and then grasped her head at the movement, gasping in pain. It probably wasn't the smartest thing for her to have done, but she was having trouble finding words through her shock at Malfoy's instantaneous transformation. She felt something crusty along her temple and brought her hand down to inspect. It was then she noticed the amount of dried blood plastered to the right side of her face where the sword had hit her. Her hand shook at the memory, the reality of what the consequences of her actions would have been had these strangers not broken them out of their prison finally seizing her. Seeming to understand, Malfoy placed a his warm, firm hand on her back and gently urged her forward to followed the strange couple outside.
The moon shone bright on a pair of guards lying at their feet, obviously Stunned.
"This way," she beckoned toward a cart waiting just beyond. Hermione looked around and noticed several more guards lying in odd angles all around. Hermione was shocked to realize that these people had fought their way into the dungeons to rescue them. Though still unsure, Hermione felt a warm sense of gratitude towards their rescuers.
"Climb in the back," the man said, his voice soft, gentle. "You can hide under the blankets." The cart was filled a vast array of objects with a small pile of blankets folded in the middle atop a bed of hay. Hermione hoisted herself shakily into the cart and re-arranged the blankets to cover her and Malfoy who had climbed in behind her.
"You must keep quiet, and stay hidden," the woman said, as she lifted herself beside the man at the front of the cart. "If we encounter anyone they must not know you are here."
The two of them nodded and watched as the man took the reins to a pair of horses tethered at the front. The woman sidled up alongside him and arranged her skirts. The man reached behind them and pulled up a thick wool blanket, wrapping it around the woman. She smiled up at him as he snapped the reins and the cart rolled forward.
Hermione turned to her companion. "You seem to be taking this all in stride," she said to him, wanting to break the silence.
He shrugged, winced and said, "I don't really have a choice at this point now do I?"
She shook her head and pulled their blanket up. She was freezing. She watched through a small opening for a few minutes as the mist from their breath rose in the cool night air and mingled together until they disappeared into the night. Her eyes saw everything as they rolled to the drawbridge gate.
"Keep still, now," the woman said. Hermione ducked further beneath the blanket and glanced at Malfoy. It unnerved her to realize he was staring at her.
The cart rolled to a stop and Hermione held her breath. "We have finished our business and wish to retire to our home," she heard the deep timbre of the man's voice call out.
"A little late now, innit?" another man's voice spoke up from further away.
"We had business elsewhere. Let us pass peacefully, Conan."
"O' course, sir," the man said placidly and Hermione could hear the rumble of the drawbridge being lowered. That was too easy, she thought. Then she remembered; the woman was a witch. She had probably Confunded the guard to let them pass. The cart lurched forward again and Hermione fell into Malfoy. He placed a hand on her arm to steady her while she mouthed "sorry." He nodded but did not remove his hand. He was staring at her again. She looked at him questioningly and he slowly lowered his hand down the length of her arm and into the space between them. Hermione shivered, but this time not from the cold. She could feel the trail his hand had blazed on her arm as if it were burned there. Her body warmed and she felt strange. What was wrong with her?
Malfoy turned onto his back and closed his eyes. It was then that Hermione realized how extremely tired she was. She snuggled deeper onto the hay and willed herself to relax. Pain throbbed through her exhausted body but soon the darkness was calling to her and the rumble of the cart, the croak of bullfrogs, and the sound of Malfoy's soft breathing slowly lulled her to sleep.
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Draco's scattered mind raced. What was he playing at, touching her like that? What was wrong with him? She was the Mudblood for Merlin's sake! He should be disgusted by her very presence, unable to stand the thought of her close proximity. But his mind kept returning to that instant when he had watched her pulling herself onto the gallows as he was about to meet his death. He played over and over how she had fought the guards, kicking and screaming, striking one down with a bloody sword in order to free him.
He remembered how small she had looked compared to them and how fiercely she had fought, eyes bright with fire, her wild hair dancing around her shoulders. He had seen the determination, the fear. Fear for him, him, the insufferable prat who had tortured her and her friends for nearly seven years, the murderous demon who had tackled her back at the Manor. The prideful Pureblood who hated everything about her.
But when he saw the look in her eyes as she fought for him something had changed forever. No one had ever stood up for him as she had done, even going to the length of possibly getting herself killed. She had stood no chance against those guards without her magic and she had to have known that. But the selfless Gryffindor had risked it anyway, risked everything to give him a chance.
He shuddered remembering that sword coming down on her head, her body going limp as blood poured down her face. She'd been hit hard enough to down a cart horse and Draco had screamed and fought as he had never fought before. He had been a maniac as they had pulled her seemingly lifeless body away.
He thought she had died. When they eventually overpowered him and dragged him to yet another cell he had felt the deep, consuming guilt at the thought of the lioness giving her life for the likes of him. He had tortured himself to sleep with the sound of her screams for his release ringing in his head.
But now she was sleeping beside him while they rolled on a creaky cart towards an unknown destination with a couple of medieval witches they had never met before. She had saved his contemptible arse yet again. Gazing at her sleeping form, her face battered and bruised, a deep gash on the right side of her forehead where she could have so easily lost her life, he wondered if she would have gone through it all if she truly knew what he was like, what he had done. Would she still have risked everything if she'd seen how he'd tortured, murdered…?
But of course she would. She was Hermione-bleeding heart-Granger.
Draco sighed into the cold night. He had no bloody idea what he was going to do now. How was he going to get back? He reveled in the quiet around him. No tortured screams from below, no sick laughter from his demented compatriots. He realized he'd lost that subtle burning he always felt between his shoulder blades, like eyes were always on him, waiting for him to mess up so he could be punished again. It was true he was in no less danger here, but it was a comforting knowledge that no one from his time could touch him here.
Draco was finding it hard to wrap his mind around all that had happened recently. It was hard to believe that a mere thirty-six hours earlier he and the young woman beside him had been fighting a war, the two of them on opposite sides of the field. And now they were bundled together beneath woolen blankets, bouncing along some dirt path in some medieval time he couldn't fathom if he tried.
He shook his head, grinning. Life was just full of surprises, wasn't it?
His mind turned these new musings over and over as the little cart jarred along until his teeth were rattling inside his head. His hand throbbed, his shoulder ached, his ribs were sore and his head pounded. He really hoped they had Numbing Draughts in this era.
After what felt like an eternity, the cart slowed and came to a stop. Nervously, Draco reached over and shook Granger awake. Though this couple had freed them from certain death, he still didn't trust them yet and needed to be ready to fight just in case.
The battered girl's eyes fluttered open and her hand went straight to her head which was probably pounding as much, if not more than, his was. He got their attention and lifted his brows.
"Can you fight?" he breathed and her eyes widened. She nodded and her body hardened in preparation. Draco lifted the blanket off of them and a fierce wind smacked him in the face. He saw Hermione shiver harshly and Draco sat up, ready to pounce as the woman come around to the back of the cart.
She eyed their ready stances, one brow raised, but said nothing about it. "Come along, we have much to discuss."
Draco followed Granger off the cart and swiped at the hay that had clung to his robes, taking in his surroundings. The four of them walked to a quaint cottage nestled among the trees, the darkness nearly impenetrable. Not a light glowed save for the moon streaming through grey clouds above. He'd never seen a place so barren so…peaceful. They were obviously far off the beaten path.
They were ushered into the small one room house and the woman lit some candles and the fireplace with a wave of her hand and welcoming heat stole over Draco, warming his frozen body.
"Come, take a seat. We'll clean your wounds."
Draco and Hermione sat at a scrubbed wooden table with four roughly hewn chairs beside the fire. There was a long desk against one wall laden with scrolls, vials and wooden bowls filled with different kinds of herbs. In one corner was a large bed, the quilt neatly tucked in, a cedar chest sat at the foot of it. The entire house was full of shelves that held different objects and mountains of scrolls, dried flowers and herbs hanging from the rafters above.
The woman busied herself at the desk throwing different herbs into a pestle and mortar and grinding them while the man threw more wood into the hearth and hung a cauldron over the fire. He went to a large cabinet and began pulling things out and floating them into the cauldron which began emitting a tantalizing smell. Draco snuck a glance at his companion and was happy to note she was as enchanted by their surroundings as he.
"Milo is a great cook," the woman said with a smile as she sat opposite of Draco with her bowl of salve. She gestured to Draco's swollen hand and he nodded his consent, sighing in relief as she gently massaged the magical paste onto it. A light buzzing filled his ear and warmth flooded his body so intense he felt lightheaded, as if he'd had a few glasses of Firewhiskey. This stuff was good.
"Who are you?" Granger piped up, her voice hoarse. The woman smiled and let out a small tinkling laugh.
"Forgive me. I am Sari of Glendon, daughter of Dyonisius, granddaughter of Eddricus. This is my husband Milonius of Wymark, son of Bartholomew, grandson of Alvredus, but you can call him Milo. Like you, we are witches."
"How did you know I was a witch?" Hermione questioned, her intelligent eyes wary.
"I could sense it," Sari explained as her hands moved to Draco's aching jaw. "I am a Seer of sorts. My grandmother was the true Seer, my powers are but modest compared to her own."
Draco grinned, thinking about the rumors that had gone around about Granger after she had stormed out of Divination after yelling at Professor Trelawney. Sari gave him a strange look.
"Did I say something amusing? You have heard of Divination have you not?"
"Of course. Highly enjoyed the subject myself, though not all of us at this table could say the same," he grinned.
Sari hummed deep in her throat as he turned his smirk to Granger who gave him a withering look. He turned back to the golden-haired woman and she began running her hand over the cuts on his face. He could feel them knitting together, his swollen lip returning to normal size.
"How are you doing that? Magic, I mean," Hermione inquired, obviously still as unable to remain quiet as she had been back at school.
Sari turned to her, confused. "What are you saying? Do you not know the art?"
"No, of course we know magic but we can't do it here."
"Here? Why not?"
Granger shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Draco as if wondering how much she should divulge. "I'm not sure but I think… Well, see, we are not from around here. Well, we are, but not from...here."
Sari looked confused. "I do not understand."
Granger looked at him again and he shrugged. These people had broken them out of jail and were healing them. They might be the only hope they had of returning home.
"We're not from... your time," Granger said slowly as if choosing her words carefully. "You see, we're from the future."
Sari turned to look at Milo who had stopped stirring to gaze at her. They seemed to speak without words.
"It was as we expected. How far in the future?"
Granger worried her lip then winced in pain. "Really far. About 700 years, if I'm not mistaken."
Sari's eyebrows shot up and her face lit with glee even as Draco's heart sunk at the information. He'd known they'd gone back, but not that far. "700 years? How fascinating! What is it like?"
"Sari," Milo's deep timbre seemed to bring her back to reality and she sobered. "You know we cannot."
"Yes of course, you are right," she said with a sad smile.
"But why not?" Draco asked, realizing as he did so that his words felt thick, his body suddenly tired, but incredibly plait and relaxed. "What could it hurt?"
"We should not know more than what is in our grasp. It leads to temptation. We must stay focused on the here and now," Milo explained.
Draco shrugged, grimacing in pain so that Sari nodded at him to remove his robes and shirt to tend to the bruised appendage. He did so wordlessly, smirking when Granger turned away blushing at the sight of his bare chest.
"You were saying you could not do magic," Sari reminded Granger as she administered the salve, causing Draco to sigh in relief as the aching ebbed. He would pay thousands of galleons for this stuff. "What do you mean?"
"I mean this," she stood and pulled out her wand. She opened her mouth but before she could say anything Milo and Sari rushed towards her crying out.
"No! Don't!" Sari yelled, her eyes wide with horror.
Granger quickly lowered her wand looking harassed and Draco was stunned to realize he'd half risen out of his seat to protect her when the two had leapt forward.
"It is forbidden! You cannot use wands!" Sari explained urgently, both she and Milo still tensed and ready to yank the wand from Granger's blood caked hand.
"Why?" Draco asked.
"It was proclaimed by the wizard Gwendolleyn that witches must not use wands for the fear of being caught," Milo explained calmly, his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Wandlore has been banned throughout the kingdoms, any witch caught possessing one is sentenced to the Unforgivable."
Granger swallowed and tucked her wand back into her pocket.
"An enchantment has been placed across the lands to prevent anyone from using them," Sari explained. "If you wish to perform magic you must do so without. Have you attempted a spell wandless?"
Granger looked discomfited. "We don't typically use wandless magic in the future. I've managed a few simple spells but I haven't perfected it or anything..."
"Then you must," Milo said, his voice gentle but firm. "Even then it is not safe, they have ways of tracking us now. You have come to a very dangerous time for the magical."
Granger glanced at Draco and they shared a concerned gaze. What had they gotten themselves into?
They were all silent for a few minutes as Milo turned back to the cauldron and Sari began her ministrations on his ribs. Granger sat again looking markedly away, obviously embarrassed by his nakedness, a fact Malfoy found incredibly alluring. Slowly, the bruises faded and the pain ebbed. Whatever Sari had put in that salve was pure gold. He'd have to remember to ask for the recipe so he could make it when he returned.
If he returned…
When Sari was finished with Draco she turned to Granger. "Your turn, love."
She nodded and switched places with Draco, swaying as she stood. He reached out but she righted herself, settling heavily on the seat he'd just vacated. Draco watched as Sari slowly mended the gash on Granger's forehead much like Snape had closed his wounds after Potter had caught him crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The color seemed to drain from Granger's face as Sari began rubbing the salve gently over her battered face. Draco's eyes narrowed and his body tensed as he watched Granger's eyes begin to roll.
He swore as she careened off the seat. Draco leapt towards up, catching her before she hit the hard wooden floor. Sari fretted, instructing him to the large bed in the corner as Draco lifted the small witch into his arms and carried her to the bed whose covers Sari was quickly clearing. He laid her down gently and stepped back to allow Sari to work on her.
"When was the last time she ate?" Sari asked as she removed Granger's robe from her limp form. Draco felt guilt wash over him as he thought of the berries he had eaten right in front of her, the gruel he'd inhaled in the dungeon. He doubted she'd been able to find sustenance as she'd attempted to track him down.
"Er, it's been a couple days I'm guessing," he admitted, shuffling nervously as the witch ran her hands over Granger, a soft golden light washing over her.
"It's my fault, that salve was too powerful. It uses your own magic to heal; usually it will just make you feel slightly weak for a couple hours, but I didn't realize she'd been so severely drained… Milo could you bring-" she began, but he was already behind her with a vial from the table where Sari had made the salve. Sari gave him another one of those smiles that made Draco feel as if he were intruding on an intimate moment as she took the phial from his hands. She turned to where Draco stood uneasily, unsure of what to do.
"Draco, sit and eat. You will need your strength. You have a long journey ahead of you," Sari said, turning back to Granger.
He hovered for a moment feeling helpless, but he knew nothing about healing and knew Granger was in good hands. At the low rumble in his stomach at the smell wafting from the cauldron across the room, Draco sat and did as he was told.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
XOXO
RynStar15
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Breaking the Chain