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Somewhere on the M6, Draco was lost to the world. He watched as the landscape – grown wild and unkempt – flashed past like a fleeting thought. A town burnt to the ground in the distance, cars abandoned across the motorway, and nature impeding on muggle urbanisation. Draco didn’t like to pay attention to it anymore. It only made his thoughts darker. Normalcy was long gone. Not even his magic could save them. Instead, he focused on massaging the tension out of the witch's neck beside him while she drove them to nowhere.
“Fucking hell.”
He turned his head to the right, looking quizzically at his companion of three years. He didn’t get a verbal answer, but the camper van’s sudden slowing and the crease of her brows told him enough. Draco reached into the glove compartment, knocking aside expired cereal bars to grab the elm wand they’d pulled from a dead man whose name they didn’t know.
When the van halted, Hermione reached down to pop the bonnet and jumped out of the van without a word, her face set in deep frustration. Checking his knife halter was secure on his thigh, Draco followed her. Leaning against the front of the open van, he offered her the wand which she took with a quiet thank you, while his eyes scanned the environment.
“We shouldn’t be stopping in the road like this,” he commented quietly.
“I thought we’d have more time,” Hermione grumbled as she concentrated on conjuring more fuel for the van. It was tricky work with a wand that refused to cooperate with either of them, but Hermione’s natural ability to adapt allowed her to perform this one simple spell to preserve their home.
Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a small luxury they couldn’t afford, but when he placed the stick between her lips and lit it, her shoulders visibly relaxed. Worth it, he thought. After she’d taken several drags, he brought the cigarette to his own lips, while his eyes scanned over several abandoned cars. His eyes narrowed when he saw that one in the distance was still occupied.
“Red corsa.”
Hermione turned, glancing towards the car and frowned. “Doesn’t look like it can get out. Keep an eye on it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Draco felt satisfaction at the small smile she failed to hide as she turned back to the van. Her foot nudged his in a silent scold. Draco had to look in the opposite direction to hide his grin. However, when he did, his blood ran cold when his eyes connected with a runner looking at them through the trees.
“Hermione,” he whispered, reaching behind him to grab her wrist.
She immediately stilled at the use of her given name, reserved for only two situations, and they weren’t in bed.
“How far away is it?” she whispered back.
“Treeline.”
Draco felt her hand carefully squeeze his hand on her wrist.
“There’s enough in the van to get us a couple of miles,” she whispered behind him.
“Close it. Slowly,” he said, tightening his grip on her wrist while his eyes remained glued on the snarling corpse in the trees.
Hermione reached up with her free hand to slowly close the bonnet, and Draco’s hand went to the knife on his thigh. At the soft click of the bonnet closing, the runners head cocked to the side.
“Do you have your knife?” he murmured.
“It’s in the van door.”
He could hear the slight tremor in her voice, and it made his skin crawl. Hermione Granger was not a woman who was easily scared. He loved that about her.
“Get in the van,” he demanded quietly.
“I’m not leaving you out here.”
“I’m not asking. Get. In. The. Van.”
She wouldn’t respond because in that moment, the runner bolted towards them. The cigarette dropped from Draco’s fingers. His knife was out and raised in seconds. Hermione dropped the wand and sprinted to the open driver’s door.
The runner was on him, and Draco stepped to the side and slashed his knife up, cracking its lower jaw in half only to attempt to slow its advancement. The runner spun on its heel and shrieked at Draco, spitting congealed blood across his shirt before it leapt at him, knocking him to the ground. His knife fell out of his hand and slid under the van as his hands grabbed at the runners shoulders, keeping it lifted above him.
“GRANGER!” he screamed as it thrashed and snarled above him. The thick stench of death assaulted him while it scratched at his arms, trying to angle its head to bite his wrists.
Hermione reappeared, knocking the runner off him with a firm kick to the side, and Draco immediately reached under the van to grab his knife. He launched to his feet just as the runner went for Hermione.
Instinct kicked in as he reached out and grabbed its blood and mud-covered hair, but it only caused its scalp to come free from its skull and Draco’s knife embedded in its neck instead of its head.
Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream, and time stopped as he saw the runners broken jaw bite into her hand as she fell to the floor.
In a display of pure, blinding rage, he pulled his knife out of its neck and plunged it into its skull, killing the dead.
Draco didn’t hesitate to rip off his belt and tie it around Hermione’s forearm, halfway up her mudblood scar cutting off the circulation to her bitten hand. He could already see her veins under her olive skin turn black as the virus infected her blood.
No words needed to be exchanged as Draco pinned her arm to the ground with his knees. Hermione rolled on her side, hugging his thigh in full acceptance of what needed to be done.
Taking her clean knife, Draco cut into her wrist, just above the tracking black veins. He ignored the sting of her bite into his thigh to muffle her scream as he cut through bone and sinew, blood pouring onto the tarmac. When he finished, he dragged a nearby tyre over and rested her forearm against it, keeping the wound elevated to limit blood loss.
He checked his belt was still tight enough on her forearm before running into the camper van and throwing open the cabinet full of medical supplies they’d scavenged. Grabbing a proper tourniquet, a half-filled bottle of antiseptic, sterile gauze, their last clean bandage, and some willow bark Hermione uses for her period cramps, Draco ran back to her.
“Open your mouth,” he demanded as he pressed with his thumb and fingers on the sides of her clenched jaw, easing it open enough to shove the willow bark between her teeth. When he let go, her jaw clamped shut again as she tried not to scream and cry in the middle of the road.
Draco slotted her arm between his knees, positioning her forearm upright before placing the tourniquet above his belt and pouring the entirety of the previously rationed antiseptic on the stump. They’d find more he reasoned. When she screamed in pain from the sting, he sank back into his mind, occluding enough not to vomit or burst into tears. He couldn’t look at her face as he cleaned the blood away from her arm and covered the stump in clean gauze before wrapping the stump tightly in the bandage.
Lifting her into his arms, Draco carried her into the camper van and placed her down on the bed. Ensuring her arm was elevated and wasn’t going to be knocked, he lifted the blankets over her and tucked her in. Running a hand over her forehead, Draco leaned down and kissed her cheek, finding himself lingering when his eyes fell on his bloodied hand on her hair.
“Stay awake, Hermione. Can you do that for me until I get us off the motorway?”
A shaky nod was her only reply as she looked up at him through heavy tears.
“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear, leaving another kiss on her jaw before turning and jumping back out of the van.
Closing the sliding door behind him, he let out a heavy sigh before retrieving their knives and the wand from the ground where Hermione had dropped it. The thing was nearly useless in combat, so he didn’t blame her for doing so.
With a deep breath he knelt down to her hand lying on the tarmac and pulled off her mother’s wedding ring, pocketing it before climbing in the driver’s side. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Draco saw Hermione was awake and staring at him through wet eyes before starting the camper van and driving away.
The twelve miles he drove to the next exit felt like the longest in his life. His heart hanging heavy in his chest at what he’d just done, but they both knew it was needed. The conversation had been had countless times. Amputate a bitten limb immediately. It didn’t make it any easier for him.
Another two miles and Draco pulled off into a secluded wooded area. He took a moment to survey the area before securing all the doors and closing the curtains.
Draco was by Hermione’s side within seconds, and true to her word, she’d managed to remain awake. She weakly lifted the blanket to invite him in, but Draco climbed over her, lying down at her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. Tucking the blanket back under her, her held her close.
“You did so well,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly, her voice strained and pained while she continued to chew the willow bark.
“No, Hermione, no. Don’t apologise.”
“It’s- going to be- so much- harder now…”
Draco wiped a stray tear from her cheek as he hugged her tighter. “We anticipated for this. We’ll manage. I just want you alive.” He paused, swallowing down the bitterness that came with the thought of the reverse. “How’s the pain?”
“About what you’d expect.”
Draco nodded. There wasn’t anything else to say to that. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her mother’s wedding band. Taking her other hand, he slipped it on her ring finger and curled his fingers around hers.
“You remembered it,” she whispered in a broken voice. “I’d forgotten.”
“Of course, I remembered it,” Draco murmured. “Something this important?”
Hermione didn’t answer except to slide a little further back, pressing herself firmer against him. He kissed the spot underneath her ear in response, whispering, “I love you.”
He heard her whimper softly in response, “I love you too.”