A/N: Yeah, yeah, why am I starting a new story when I already have one underway? In short, I just thought of this storyline, and I really like it, and I would like to extend my gratitude to Harry Potter and the Fight for Malfoy Empire, because that story really inspired me. It's a fantastic story, anyone who is looking for another story to read (after mine, of course) should go and read that one. There are already 25 chapters up and its 25 chapters of genius.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Apparently, wishing on a star doesn't get you people. I wished for Malfoy, and that jacked up star gave me NOTHING!

Chapter One: Blood, Lupin, and Beauty

"Get down, NOW!" Hermione screamed to Ron, who immediately ducked, sending a jet of green light into a Death Eater attempting to sneak up behind him. He glanced at Hermione and sent her a quick nod of thanks before leaping back up and sending a Stunning spell at Bellatrix, who dodged it, and focused again on Tonks.

Hermione looked around, searching for the rest of her school friends. Harry was battling Alecto Carrow, who was putting up an annoyingly good fight. Ron was attempting to stay out of sight and sneakily take down as many Death Eaters as possible. Neville was helping Luna up, where she spat blood onto the floor. Ginny was fighting with a masked figure that looked like Lucius Malfoy, judging by the long platinum hair flowing out from behind his mask.

Fred and George Weasley were both battling Thicknesse, who was backed up into a wall already. Lupin was fighting his way to Tonks, and everyone else was out of Hermione's line of sight, or already down. She pushed the last thought from her mind as she stood up and brushed herself off. Suddenly, she was hit from behind and fell hard. She shook her head and turned, coming face to face with Pansy Parkinson.

How on earth the girl managed to make it here and this far without getting killed was beyond Hermione. She shook her head and stood up, only to be seized quickly by Pansy, who turned her around and pressed her wand to her neck.

"You know if I kill you I can finally get my Mark?" she said quietly, dangerously, in Hermione's ear. Hermione shivered involuntarily, knowing that while the girl wasn't a totally competent witch, she would do anything for that tattoo. She wrenched herself out of her grasp and backed up, looking for her fallen wand. She spotted it by Pansy's foot, and leaned down to get it, only to be stopped by Pansy's fist, which scrabbled at her shirt front again.

She kicked the girl in the knee, and when she cursed in pain, leaped for her wand and Stunned her. She fell to the floor with a loud thud, and Hermione ran off, leaving her to be trampled by the rest of the Order and Death Eaters.

She looked around for a Death Eater without someone to fight, only to see a spot of platinum from the corner of her eye. Brilliant, Draco Malfoy. If she could get him, there would be praises from all of Gryffindor when they went back to school.

She knew basing her attack strategy on popularity was shallow and stupid at best, but Hermione shrugged it off. She had been looking for a reason to attack the blonde boy for years, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But when she got to Malfoy, she saw he was already occupied and fighting for his life. She wished she could discern the Order member, but the darkness of the room had cast shadows on the man's face.

The man was curious. He moved to attack Malfoy with his bare hands instead of a wand. Malfoy pushed himself back into the wall and fell. Hermione jumped behind a pillar and watched, careful to watch for other Death Eaters who could be attempting to be sneaky. The man used oddly feral hands to rip Malfoy up from the ground and slashed him across the stomach, sending dark liquid flying. Hermione flinched and bit her lip to keep herself from calling out. Malfoy was jerked closer to the mans face, and he pulled Malfoy's head back, exposing his long, elegant neck.

Then he moved into the light, and she gasped. Malfoy was fighting for his life against his own side. Fenrir Greyback was attempting, with all his might, to bite Malfoy's neck, his jaws snapping in a primal manner. Malfoy finally brought his wand out and gasped out a Shield charm, keeping the werewolf at bay, but there was no telling how long his strength would hold.

Hermione screeched to a stop in a flurry of robes. She quickly shed them, knowing if Greyback got a hold of her clothing, she would be dead or worse. She held out her wand and thought with all her might. Finally, Greyback stiffened, and fell backwards.

She stood in silence, debating. Did she want to extend a hand of friendship and help her adolescent enemy? No, she really didn't. But she didn't want to see him die because he was hated by both sides. No one deserved to have their own friends (well, she didn't know if Fenrir ever had any friends) attack them and try to kill them. Finally, she moved out of her shadow. "Come on, Malfoy," she said, holding out a hand to help him up.

He stared at her like he didn't really recognize her, and Hermione wondered if he was in shock. Then he shook his head, his blonde hair falling into his grey eyes. "No way Granger. I know your side would like nothing better than to kill me."

She rolled her eyes and looked around, hoping no one would notice she wasn't fighting, and doubly hoped no one would notice that she was talking to a known Death Eater. "You're hurt, and your own side is after you. Let's go. You value your life don't you?"

He stared at her like he had never seen anything quite like her. "Why?"

"I have this stupid instinct where hurt people make me feel bad, so I try to help them. Even when my better judgment tells me to curse them," she raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to die?" she asked plaintively.

Malfoy stared at her. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Come on Malfoy," Hermione mocked. "Surely you're smart enough to SPEAK."

Malfoy finally found his voice. The horrified look on his face was enough to scare Hermione. "Get down, Granger. Now."

She froze. Malfoy got up. "NOW!" he bellowed.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her to the wall, where she hit her head. She blinked the stars out of her eyes and reached for her wand. Malfoy jerked his head in the direction of the door, and Hermione sprinted out, followed closely by Malfoy. His panting was a lot more labored than hers, and she glanced back to make sure he was still with her.

He was leaning against the wall, one hand on his side, the other on his knee. She ran up to him, and he pushed her away. "The werewolf is coming. If he kills two people, he'll be insufferable. Go."

"Well you won't really care if your dead, now will you?" Hermione asked. "Let me see."

Malfoy stood up straight and brushed his robes off. "See what?" He tried to brush his bloody hand off onto his robes without her seeing.

"Merlin!" she said, exasperated. "This is your house, Malfoy, take us somewhere secluded, where no one can find us."

"Going to have your naughty way with me, Granger?" Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't make me vomit."

"That hurts. All little Mudbloods want a Malfoy," he said, raising a hand to his now calm heart. "It's like a fairy tale," he said, raising his voice into a falsetto.

"Shut the hell up and go," she ordered, ignoring him.

He strode purposefully down the hallway, and Hermione had to marvel at the confidence of his stride. Even injured, he walked like he was the king of mankind. Which he probably thought he was, Hermione thought bitterly. His robes billowed out behind him, and even in his tattered and bloodied clothing, he looked like an aristocrat.

Stupid pureblood.

He led her down a labyrinth of hallways, all twisting and turning and false doors that reminded Hermione of Hogwarts, when he led her through a door into a bedroom.

The walls were covered in black and blue and silver tapestries, all depicting medival pictures of dragons, knights in armor, and castles. The bed itself was fitted in black silk, a shining huge four poster in the middle of the room. Couches were off in the corner next to a wall made entirely of bookcases. There were two doors on the opposite side of the room, presumably to a closet and bathroom.

"Whose room is this?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Mine, of course," he said. She turned to him just as he dropped his robe onto the floor.

She couldn't help but stare at the clothing he had left. His jeans were torn at the knees and all the way to the bottom, making him look like a homeless person at best. His shirt was in complete disarray; it looked like he had put it on backwards and tried to put it through a Muggle paper shredder. In the midst of it all, Hermione could make out a horrific gash on his chest and side, and the nicest set of abs she had ever seen.

Not that she had seen that many to begin with.

He cleared his throat at her, and she flushed, realizing that she'd been staring. He smirked at her, and she resisted the urge to slap the smug look right off his face.

"Are you going to fix me up, or what?" he asked.

"I'm surprised you couldn't do that yourself, ferret," she snapped back.

He crossed his arms over his chest, then flinched and dropped them back to his side. "In case you haven't noticed, Granger, I happen to be without a wand."

Her chocolate eyes immediately jumped down to his hands where, indeed, there was no wand. She rolled her eyes and looked back up at Malfoy's face, then frowned. His normally alabaster face was waxy, and his eyes were heavy lidded.

"Malfoy?" she asked softly. He didn't answer, but a small, wet sound greeted her when silence attempted to. She looked down, and squeaked. There was blood dripping from his jeans and shirt, making a small puddle on the marble floor.

Almost immediately, Malfoy started to fall. She ran to catch him so he at least wouldn't have a cracked skull to add to his injuries when she slipped and fell into his now growing pile of blood in a heap. Malfoy's inert body ended up halfway on top of her, and his lower half looked broken, where his legs were bent at odd angles.

Ignoring the sticky substance under her hands and shoes, Hermione pushed herself up and drug Malfoy far away from his nasty puddle. She ripped his shirt open to see all of his wounds, scarcely feeling guilty for his already destroyed expensive linen shirt. She waved her wand over the wounds, but nothing happened.

She tried all of the healing charms that she knew, but nothing was making the bleeding stop. She panicked, and tears started to fall down her cheeks and into the wounds. She jumped up and ran through one of the doors, and into a closet. She ran back out almost instantly, leaping over Malfoy to the other door, the bathroom. She grabbed a towel and wet it, wringing all excess water out before coming back.

She held the rag onto the gash, just like she had seen on Muggle television to stop the bleeding. Blood coursed around the rag and onto her hands, making her gag, but she strengthened her resolve.

She used one hand to conjure a Patronus and send it off with a message. Hopefully, a little Muggle knowledge would keep Malfoy alive until help arrived.

Minutes later, Lupin, looking very battle-worn, came through the door, panting a little, but otherwise intact. He took one look at Hermione, who still had tears coursing down her cheeks, and Malfoy on the floor, and ran to Hermione's side.

"How's everyone faring out there?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Do they need help?"

"You're fine where you are, Hermione," Lupin said, examining Malfoy's pallid face and ragged breathing. "He's just hanging on," he breathed.

"Please, tell me you know something," Hermione said, sounding hysterical. "Greyback slashed him, but he didn't bite him. I've tried everything I know, but nothing will stop the bleeding!"

She sobbed, then pulled herself together. Lupin motioned for her to move out of the way, and took her place. When he wasn't looking, Hermione wiped away her tears fiercely, ashamed that the boy she hated could make her cry like that. Slowly, he removed the blood soaked rag to examine the wound, before quickly placing it back again.

Seeing the damage from far away just made Hermione retch a little. The blood covered the floor now, and she realized she had it all over her bare legs and her tissue thin white t-shirt. She sobbed anew. Something about seeing Malfoy on the floor, vulnerable and injured, made her heart go out to him involuntarily. While he was infuriating and exasperating and prejudiced and annoying, he was hurt, and Hermione was determined to see him get better. Not die.

"Werewolf wounds tend to be resistant to any sort of magical healing. Luckily, I know how to do stitches. This doesn't seem to have made it to any muscle to cause permanent damage, he's just lost a lot of blood. But if I can sew him up quickly, he should live."

Hermione didn't like the "if" and "should" but she quickly conjured up a Muggle medical set. Lupin nodded his agreement and started digging though it.

"Can you get me another rag Hermione?" he asked kindly. "This one is a little…bloodied."

Hermione nodded and sprinted to the bathroom, as if running would save Malfoy's life. She grabbed a new cloth, wrung out the excess water after she soaked it, and ran back to Lupin. She was astounded to see Malfoy awake, looking terrified, but keeping silent.

"What's going on?" he whispered, and Hermione shook a little. His voice was so weak.

"We're trying to fix you," she said quietly. She handed Lupin the cloth, and he handed her the bloodied one. Malfoy stared at the bloody towel, and his face paled even more. Hermione locked eyes with him for a second, then stared at the towel. She retched and ran into the bathroom and threw up. She cried, her arms around her head, for a few minutes, then dropped the towel into the sink, leaving it be for now.

When she returned to the bedroom, Malfoy was more alert, trying to see what Lupin was doing, but his face was still alarmingly pale, and his eyes kept going out of focus or rolling back into his head. He stared at her for a minute, and she tried a pathetic attempt at a smile. He closed his eyes for a second too long and Hermione ran to his side.

"Talk to me, Malfoy," she said adamantly. He just stared at her.

"If you fall asleep again, I'm not so sure you will wake up. Just talk to me," she pleaded.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, looking genuinely curious. She felt like smacking him. That's not what she wanted him to talk about, but if he was talking, that meant he was awake and still alive. That was all she could really hope for.


"No, lie to me."

She flicked his nose. "Don't give me the sarcasm."

He looked affronted.

"Look," she said, not meeting his eyes. She found them distracting. "I can't stand just leaving someone behind, even if I don't particularly like them. You were attacked by your own side. I couldn't just leave you to die."

"Yes you could have," he insisted.

"I saved your life, Malfoy," she hissed. "Why are you making this difficult?"

He groaned. "I don't want to be in your debt! It would have been better if I had just died. Then I wouldn't have to deal with any of this war or power struggles, or any of the 'Chosen One' nonsense. I wouldn't have to wake up every day to –"

He stopped. Hermione, who had been watching Lupin work, just ignored him. "Keep going, Malfoy. Keep talking."

When no response came, Hermione looked down at him. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slowing. "No!" she shrieked. "Don't you dare die!" she slapped his cheek, but his head just turned to the side. "Lupin!"

Lupin scooted up near his face and felt for a pulse in the boy's neck. "His pulse is there, but barely." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wake up!" she said again, this time weaker. When nothing happened, she looked up at the ceiling, hoping her tears would stay in. They just fell from the corners of her eyes and wove their way all the way to her neck. She focused again on Malfoy's face, and wiped his cheek when one of her tears landed there. Nothing stirred him.

Almost an hour later, Lupin stood up and said he was finished. Malfoy's stomach looked like a rag doll's, and seeing it made Hermione gag again.

"Are you coming Hermione?" he asked, when he was by the door.

"Can you tell Ron and Harry that I'm taking care of one of the injured?" she asked. "Don't tell them who it is or where he is. They'll come drag me out of here."

Lupin stared at her curiously. "I have half a mind to do that myself," he said. "You know if his parents or any Death Eaters catch you in here, you'll be killed."

"I know," she said quietly. "But I'm not going anywhere until I know he's going to be fine. I refuse to leave and have him die on us."

"You are too kind-hearted for your own good, Miss Granger," Lupin said, ruffling her hair. "I'll put wards on the room, keeping anyone from coming in for a while. They'll just remember something else they were supposed to do when they put their hand on the doorknob."

She nodded, not taking her eyes off of Malfoy.

"Send me a Patronus if you need anything else," he said, and took his leave.

Hermione spent another five minutes staring at Malfoy as he lay on the floor. She studied the sharp planes of his cheekbones, nose, and chin. His eyelashes were so blonde they were almost transparent, but they were long and curled. His lips that were normally turned upward in a smirk were in a slight frown, and Hermione could see exactly how attractive he was. His lips were full and the palest pink, his skin the softest white.

He was beautiful.

Hermione stared, then started, horrified. She slapped her own face until the thought that Malfoy was beautiful left her mind. She wondered where she could have gotten that from.

A/N: I think this is the longest chapter I've ever done! Aren't you so proud? Well, you should be. Now review for me.