Chapter 2

He rocked her gently as she fell asleep in his arms. Tired as he was, he could not bring himself to sleep. He had to think. There must be a cure. He was no healer but he was highly skilled in Potions.

Potions, potions. He sat up straight, startling Hermione who rolled over and continued sleeping.

One hand supporting the weight of the girl in his arms, he fumbled around his robes with the other. He finally extracted a small vial, the size of his thumb. With his wand, he enlarged it to its original size.

'Concentrated phoenix tears,' Professor Snape had told him when he gave it to him.

Draco knew that his mother had been the one who instigated his professor to give the potion to him. She had always been very protective over him in her own silent way and he had never been more grateful to her.

The potion, a very rare one for phoenixes were hard to come by, would rid almost any malady with just one drop. It would take precisely thirteen hours for one to heal completely.

Draco watched the witch sleeping peacefully in his arms. She was beautiful. A fact he had begrudgingly known since he first laid eyes upon her, a secret he was forced to keep because of who, or rather what, she was. They could never be. He thought sadly as he tenderly trailed the back of his index finger down from her cheek to her jaw.

She stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes. He hastily shifted his hand away. He opened his mouth to greet her but remembered that she could not see nor hear him. Oh yes, she also thought that he was Ron. That thought punctuated his mind bitterly. They were of the same built but he was sure that that was where the similarity ended.

'Ron…' She said with a small smile. She was acting brave, for him, for Ron. Draco knew she was scared. Bloody Gryffindors. He thought wryly.

He shifted her into a sitting position and propped her up against the wall. 'Ron… Don't go,' she clung onto his arm.

'I'm not going anywhere,' Draco replied, more for himself. He accio'd the vial of phoenix tears and uncorked it

He tilted the vial and let a drop of it fall out. Before the drop of phoenix tears could fall, he deftly levitated it in mid-air with his wand. He lifted Hermione's chin up and gently pried her lips apart with his thumb and finger. She opened her mouth obediently and he fed the shimmery orb to her mouth. He saw her swallow the potion and watched as she visibly relaxed.

So there actually were advantages to being a Weasley. He thought humourlessly. Hermione Granger would never have willingly consumed anything he, Draco Malfoy offered her.

He checked his watch. Thirteen hours. He would stay with her for thirteen hours. After which, he would have to leave her. He was not too worried. He knew she can fend for herself. And besides, he reminded himself, she was not his charge.

'Ron, hold me,'

Draco obliged. He looked at her, the colour was returning to her cheeks.

They sat together in comfortable silence for a long while. He was tired but he was determined to treasure the thirteen hours he would have with her. He could never peg the exact date when he had fallen for her. She was never meant to be his. She would always be beneath him. These thoughts were deeply ingrained in him, keeping him from professing his affection for her. While the constant banter helped to fuel her hatred for him and thus kept them apart, it intrigued him. She intrigued him. He kept wanting more, finding excuses to taunt her, tease her. It was after all, the only times that he could talk to her.

'You know Ron, I was so scared. Everyone was dying. I was so afraid…' her voice crumbled slightly.

Draco patted her head softly.

'I feel so weak now to be honest, and it scares me. But we have to be brave, Ron. Dumbledore's Army. They depended on us. Harry will win you know? I have faith. It's time. But the deatheaters… They kept coming, I couldn't stop them,' Hermione continued on.

Twelve hours.

He had wanted her. It had just been a simple want. He was a Malfoy and he had everything and anything he wanted. Girls would throw themselves upon him. They saw him as Malfoy, never Draco. Hell, he wondered if some of the girls he had dated even knew his first name. Granger though, she was different. She never looked at him the way other girls did, she was perfectly indifferent to the fact that his last name was Malfoy, and that was precisely why he wanted her. But as quickly as she had captured his attention, she had moved on to capture his heart. He more than wanted her, perhaps, he had even – loved her.

Her stomach rumbled, breaking him out of his reverie. He was starving too, he realised.

He removed a hip flask and conjured some water in it. He placed it in her hands and guided the flask to her mouth. He wandered around the small hut and found some stale bread on the floor.

Bringing them over to their corner, he used his wand and transfigured them into freshly baked pastries. He handed a piece to her and watched her eat it.

'Thanks Ron, this is good! So warm, you must have transfigured them. I never knew you were this good at transfiguration,' She laughed, the sound a sweet melody in contrast to the silence around them.

Draco smirked.

For several minutes, they ate in silence, wolfing down pastry after pastry. When their hunger was satiated, they leaned back against the wall.

'Hold me, Ron,' she requested again which he willingly obliged.

Eleven hours. Her eyes were now less glassy though he knew that she still could not see.

'A part of me's glad that I can't see. I'm afraid of what I'd see. I thought I'd lost you when we splitted up, Ron. I'm really grateful you found me,' Draco grimaced as she said this.

'This is the reason why I had to let my parents go. They wouldn't be able to handle this. I had to protect them. It would hurt them to see me in this state. You know they aren't like your parents. Your parents were in this. My parents, they would never have allowed me to stay and fight had they known,' Hermione was tearing up again as she talked about her parents.

What had she done to them? Draco wondered, he had never really considered the impact the war would have on the muggles.

'If I get better, I would bring them back. They are in Australia now as you know… And they believe that they are childless. I have always grappled with the difficulty in erasing their memories. It was a torture for me to lose my parents…' Her voice trailed off.

This bit of news shocked Draco. This girl here, the brains behind the trio, was actually braver than he thought. He had underestimated her. It made him realise how little he actually knew about her. It made him ache to want to know more.

'– silly of me. But as I was at the brink of death, I wished that there could be more I could achieve. I want a family, Ron,' She blushed furiously then added, 'not now of course!'

Draco smiled against her hair.

'In the future, you know? Start a family, I could teach them to knit hats…' Draco did not know what she was talking about but it amused him.

He could listen to her talk forever but time was not on his side.

Seven hours.

She yawned and stretched. He could see that her external wounds and bruises were all cleared up.

'I want to walk around, would you hold me please?'

Draco stood up and extracted his arm to help her up. She wobbled about unsteadily for several moments while he steadied her.

'Are you sure?' He wanted to ask.

As if reading his mind, she said 'I'm okay. Just give me a moment,' she gave her legs several kicks so that her blood could be better circulated.

'There, I'm ready,' she smiled.

Night was falling as they stepped out of the hut. Hermione shivered in the cold and Draco pulled her closer to his side. The sun was setting in the far horizon. He surveyed the surroundings. It was quiet, the place was hauntingly beautiful. It could have been romantic. He thought gingerly.

The war must have come to a standstill by now. He had no doubt that Potter would win this time. It had raged on for far too long.

They stood close together, at the tips of the final sun ray, soaking up that last bit of warmth. She hugged him tightly. He closed his eyes. It was so easy to pretend that it was him she loved. He sighed.

As the last ray of sunlight shimmied away, he took her hand in his and guided her back.

Five hours.

He transfigured more food for them, chicken stew this time. He fed her.

'Oh Ron, it feels so silly having you feed me,' She laughed then turned sombre, 'I feel like such a cripple.' Her voice cracked.

Draco wanted to talk to her, tell her otherwise. His actions were so limited. He wanted to reassure her, convince her that she was stronger. Instead, he simply pulled her close and let her cry on her shoulder. It must be devastating for her, to not be able to hear or see. Yet, she was handling it so bravely.

He patted her back, trying his best to convey his thoughts through actions.

One moment she was crying on his shoulder, the next she had straightened up. She shifted her hands, moving them slowly, tracing his shoulder blades in her effort to find his face. She cupped his cheeks with both hands and focused her gaze on his face.

'Oh Ron, it's so dark in here. I just wish that I could see your face…' She whispered hoarsely.

And then, as suddenly as she had stopped crying, she kissed him.

She kissed him fervently. Her lips pressed against his so fiercely; as if making up for the two senses that she had lost.

Draco, shocked by her display, quickly recovered and wasted no time in returning her kiss with equal fervour. He wove his fingers in her brown curtain of hair, pulling her head back while at the same time luring her further in with his tongue. His mind was racing half a mile a minute; his heart was in an overdrive. He angled her head to gain better access, and continued. Sucking on her upper lip, then her lower one, and then repeating, teasing her, before he deepened the kiss once again. He wanted to keep his eyes open, he wanted to drink in the sight of her intoxicated expression. But the passion between them was forcing them to shut, forcing him to heighten his other senses, to better taste her, touch her, feel her.

He moaned. And she broke away from the kiss.

'Ron! Did you just make a noise?' Draco blushed before he realised what had just transpired.

'You can hear?' He asked.

'Yes, yes! I can hear you!' Hermione said excitedly then scrunched her face up. 'But, you sound different.'

'I… I do?' Draco replied carefully. 'Uh… I'm sure it will clear up soon!'

'No matter, I'm so happy Ron! It's working! The potion you gave me, it's working!' Hermione said happily, jumping up and down on her feet, engulfing Draco in a crushing hug.

'Oh Hermione…' He glanced down at his watch, torn between joy and despair.

Four hours left, or less. He had to leave before she regained her sight.

They had resumed their position at the corner of the hut. She was talking animatedly. Things were looking up and the optimism lit up her face.

He tried to speak as little as possible. She kept going on about returning to 'The Burrow', he had guessed that it was the Weasley's sorry excuse for a home.

She finally settled comfortably beside him as the excitement ebbed away. 'Are you okay, Ron? You haven't spoken much.'

'Uh… yeah. I'm fine. Don't you worry about me,' He replied.

She laughed at his reply. 'You know who you sound like?'

Draco's heart skipped a beat. 'W…who?'

'Promise me you won't get insulted?' She asked.

'Mmhmm,' He replied.

'Malfoy,' she said quietly.

For a moment, he thought that he had blown his cover. But then she continued on, 'I must have hit my head real hard,' she chuckled.

Y… yeah, that slimy ferret? No way!' He laughed in relief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, their breaths resounding in the empty hut. It was so cold, he could make out the wispy thread of air that escaped their lips with each exhale.

'Ron?'

'Hmm?'

'Do you want to do it? What we've been talking about before the war,' she asked quietly.

He had no idea what she was talking about.

'Uh… what?' He replied uncertainly.

'Oh Ron, you know?'

He did not say anything, his mind working furiously.

'Sex?' She finally said.

'Oh… that,' he laughed nervously. She was a virgin. He thought.

'Oh god, we don't have to do it now, you know? If you don't want to. I mean, you've been asking me for ages, I just thought… Oh god, Ron! Why would you want to do it with me now? I'm blind, it would be queer. I'm not good enough. I shouldn't have thought that you'd want to do it now. You'd want to do it with a girl who can see you, I'm sure. Not some blind bat like me. I just thought maybe we could, we could keep warm at the same time. You know, –' She was rambling on about killing birds with stones and he knew, even with her back to him, that she was blushing furiously.

'No, Hermione. Don't you dare think that you're not good enough for R… me,' He scolded, he turned her around to face him.

'You're better than me.' He finished softly.

He then brought her lips down to hers. It was so soft; it could have just been his breath on her lips.

'Oh Hermione... can I kiss you?' He asked.

She nodded her assent and he guided her lips to his. It started out slow but quickly became fast, furious, ferocious. Their tongues teased and tussled. The exhilaration between them was mutual. He could feel his member growing taut down south. It was burning him, yearning to be released.

He broke away from the kiss and eased her slowly onto the tangle of sheets, his lips already missing hers, his eyes never leaving her. Good lord, she was absolutely alluring.

He was on top of her now. He pecked her on her lips, and then delivered a trail of soft kisses down to her chin, her nape, her neck, sending tingles of delight down her spine. He sucked, he licked, he repeated, over and over, again and again. He was bruising her, branding her.

She was growing warm beneath him. He removed his coat from her and peeled her blouse, then her bra, off to reveal milky white skin. He tore his lips away from her skin to admire the beauty he had unmasked. Her breasts were blossoming with anticipation; her nipples were ripe and ready. He caressed both of with his hands then bent down to work his magic on them.

He licked the tips of it and she jerked with the sudden pleasure. More, more, she wanted more. She arched her back to force more of her into his mouth. He toyed around the tips with his tongue while he watched her squirm beneath him. Then he engulfed her, his tongue continuously tracing circles around the sensitive crown. He clasped the other breast with his hand and massaged the flesh vigorously, while he fingered the tip with soft and teasing strokes. Hermione threw her head back and a moan escaped her swollen lips. Her moan stirred something within the troughs of his body.

'God Granger, you're beautiful,' He groaned, momentarily forgetting that he was Ron to her.

'Let's do it tonight,' Hermione said with a raspy voice.

'Tonight. Are you sure?' He whispered by her ear, his hot breath tickling her.

'Yes, yes, yes please,' Hermione breathed out.

He took off his robes, revealing his lean and muscular physique. He was pale, almost white against her. He shivered slightly in the cold but revelled in the warmth of her body as he lowered himself to her, so that their bodies were touching; skin to skin.

He kissed her again, this time his lips tracing another route down the length of her body. Her hands were in his hair, subtly guiding him, moving him to her nether regions. He reached the waistband of her pants and he slid his hands in, tugging at the waistband till she forced him to bring it down. She was only left in her cotton panties and beyond that, he finally found her wet and waiting.

He skimmed the region hidden by her tuft of brown hair with his fingers before he slid one of them in. She inhaled sharply and spasmed with the intrusion. Her cries of lustful pleasure spurred him on, and he inserted yet another finger. Her tight cove expanded slightly to welcome the other finger and she thrust her hips up and up to swallow more of it.

'Now, please, now!' She screamed. He removed his fingers, quelling her impending release.

Her hands had now found her way to Draco's pants and her fingers were clawing at the waist band, pulling it down. He quickly aided her in removing the rest of his clothing. He had a lust that needed to be sated, pronto.

He felt guilty for taking this away from her, but there was also the thrill of taking it away from Weasley. But he did not want to hurt her. He could not do it, would not commit such a crime of hurting her.

'Wait, Hermione. Are you sure? Do you want to do this?' He asked, hopeful.

'Yes, I love you.' She replied simply. No 'I love you, Ron' but just 'I love you'.

And he believed her. It may be due to the heat of the moment clouding his mind or the fact that he was so smitten with the girl beneath him that he refused to think otherwise. But he believed her.

'I love you too, Hermione. Always have, always will.'

And he entered her.

Slowly and tenderly, he was careful not to hurt her. She whimpered in pain and he felt her nails dug deep into his hips. He stopped and made a move to withdraw his shaft but she pressed him down, encouraging him further. He hit her hymen and saw her grit her teeth, taking the pain like the Gryffindor she was. He kept moving and as pain and pleasure married into one unit, she joined him in their quest for satiation.

Being the gentleman he always was, he made sure she met hers before him. He came shortly after, collapsing upon her, expelling his warmth into her. In the cold setting, they had never felt warmer.

One hour.

He sat beside her lying form, watching her, her beauty was so captivating. He yawned again, it had been long since he last slept. He watched her chest heave up and down with each breath that she took. Her chest. They were doing things to his groin again. He turned away.

It actually gnawed at his heart to be looking at her; the girl he could never have. It tugged at his heart strings, taunting him, jeering him. He wanted her so badly for himself, they had made love. At least, he had made love to her, while she was under the impression that he was someone else.

He had to leave soon. The thought of staying, crazy as it was, crossed his mind. But he could not chance her waking up to see him. He feared her reaction, but he feared her disappointment more. He knew that he was no Weasley in her heart.

He draped his coat lightly over her. She did not stir and he risked a final, departing kiss on her forehead. He tore his gaze away from her. One day. At least he had a day with her. He thought as he crept stealthily towards the door.

Pulling his robes tightly around him, he stole one last glance at her, he allowed his heart one more second of pain before hardening it, guarding it, shutting it down.

He closed his eyes and stepped out into the cold.

Sunlight filtered in through the windows as she opened her eyes. She blinked once, twice, and then she rubbed her eyes. She could see! She could see again!

'Ron! Ron! I can see again! Ron!' She jumped up but found that she was alone in the dilapidated hut.

She ran out of the hut and saw a set of footprints leading out of it, slowly disappearing under the light snow. 'Ron!' She called out. But it was futile, he was nowhere near.

Last night could not have been a dream. Her sore body was testimony to that. He cheeks flushed as memories of the night came flooding back.

She ran back into the hut. He could not have left her just like that. She scrambled to her knees and searched among the sheets for any note, any sign that he had left her.

Her eyes rested upon the coat on the floor. It was made of leather, and the insides were woven with soft velvet. She was puzzled. Ron would never own something that, – luxurious.

She picked it up and inspected it. The trimmings were exquisite and the buttons, she would not be surprised if it was made of genuine silver. This was most definitely not Ron's.

And then she spotted it, at the back of the collar. She brought it closer to her eyes and read the words sewn on it.

'D. Malfoy'

She dropped the coat.

The End.

A/N: There you go! I may do a sequel. Or maybe an epilogue cause I have some faint idea for continuation in my mind. But no promises!