Close To You

                                    

                                          
A few hours went by before Draco felt his eyes begin to crack open. His vision was blurry at first before everything came into sharp, inhuman, precision. Malfoy felt Hermione before he actually saw her. 
Sitting, slightly hunched over, with her eyes closed was his mate. Her hair, although white as a phantom's, was wild and terribly frizzy. 
She's so beautiful, is she not? His creature drawled with pride. The dimmed lighting coming off of the burning lanterns on the wall caused there to be an ethereal glow around her. 
Of course, his Hemrione was beautiful. She's always been beautiful, but something was pressing on Draco's mind with urgency.  
He pulled his brows together. Why was she sitting there, half asleep? Why was he lying down in the hospital wing of the school?
Suddenly, it hit him. 
The attack...
...Ivan...
...Blood...
...Fire... Darkness.
Draco's eyes widened as his whole body jerked out of its frozen, docile state. He half well expected his entire body to ache, or be at least a little sore. Having faced off against Ivan head on, with absolutely zero expectations of winning, may not have been the wisest decision on his part. However, as the event unfolded... Malfoy knew he'd successfully fought the vampire off. He was still alive, wasn't he? Well... as alive as an undead vampire could be, right?
Draco found himself grinning with pride as he recalled the stunned expression on Ivan's ridiculous face when the flames came leaping out of his hands.
Unfortunately, he couldn't recall much of anything else after that point on. And perhaps it was better that way. 
Without so much as another thought, Draco reached out for the witch in front of him and gathered her up in his arms. He tugged Hermione into his chest and tucked her head beneath his chin. The creature inside of him purred with satisfaction at the way her body melded into him with ease.
She mumbled his name under her tired breath. "....D-Draco?"
He titled his head down to glance over her drawn, sunk-in features. He lifted a hand to comb through her ghostly white locks. A mixture of adoration and sadness filled him. 
Deep down, the darkest recesses of his being, Malfoy was severely pained by what was happening to his witch. Her very life was being drained from her as a means of supporting the growing creature within. Each day, Hermione appeared weaker and more frail than humanly possible.
He didn't know how long she had until it would all become too much for her bear. And all the while, he could do nothing about it. Draco wished he could ease her mind. 
"Shhh, love," he whispered. "Close your eyes. You should have gone back to the room, you need to rest."
Mione lightly shook her head. "Couldn't leave you," she mumbled. "Needed to make sure that you were going to be okay."
Draco was more than okay. Hell, he actually felt fantastic. Better than he had in years. He was energized and sharp... This also left the Slytherin feeling quite concerned.
The last he could truly recall from his fight against Ivan, he'd taken many a harsh blow to the chest. Draco knew for fact that the pale bastard had claws a good portion of his front open. His clothes were shredded and his flesh was torn. The blood loss alone was astonishing. 
And yet... Malfoy felt completely healthy.
With that thought in mind, he wanted them back to their safe spot in the castle. Draco carefully slid out of the hospital bed with Hermione still clutched to his chest. He wrapped a secure arm under her knees and silently slipped through the doors.