She felt his breath on her face. He glared down at her, his eyes flashing. Her fingers itched to hit him, to push him back. She was shaking with it.

"I won't say thank you for something so selfishly motivated. Clearly, nothing you've done has been for the greater good if you need validation for it."

"You wanna see 'selfishly motivated?'" His eyes dragged cruelly over her lips and shoulders, down to her chest. "We could always take that suite away from you. I heard you found my bedroom, Granger. Want to spend more time there?"

She vibrated with the need to hurt him. It shook her every muscle until her hands fisted, determined not to raise a hand to her captor, and the energy punched its way down her legs. Ready to snap back at him, she stomped her foot on the ground, freeing the electricity—

Draco jerked back, flying through the air as if on a string, his lips parted in a silent gasp. His body slammed against the wall of the gazebo with a crunch, and he crumpled to the ground.

Hermione stood, mouth wide and eyes popping, looking for the source of the magic. Looking for the reason…

Her fingers shook, life sparking in them.

Her magic.

She wasn't suppressed. Never? Or just since the Malfoys left?

Her eyes snapped back to Draco, curled in on himself, wheezing.

"Draco, I…" she stammered, "I didn't mean to—"

He gasped a rattle. His eyes pale, and his skin grey. His injured arm still held across his chest, leaning back against the wall, but his entire left shoulder seemed disfigured.

My bones needed to be regrown, he'd said.

She was running to his side before she could command her feet. Dropping to her knees, her hands reached for him, stopping short when she didn't know where to touch him.

His head turned away from her, eyes squeezing shut. A tear dripping out of his closed eye. He wheezed.

"Draco, can you"—her voice shook and fingers trembled—"Can you stand?"

He coughed, and blood sprayed from his lips onto the gazebo floor.

Her head whipped to the Manor. "Help!"

A wet chuckle turned her back to his ashen face. His glazed eyes were on hers, and he smiled ruefully.

"I always knew you'd kill me one day, Granger," he rasped.

His voice was hollow. And his head lolled as he smiled at her again.

She pressed her hand to support his jaw and screamed, "MIPPY!"

A pop behind her. "Master Draco!"

"I-it was an accident, I—" she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe— "I think his new bones are broken. His—his lungs are punctured, and—"

A small hand reached for Draco's sleeve, and suddenly he was gone, only the drops of his blood left behind.

She was alone in the gazebo. She was alone, and she'd hurt him.

Spinning, she looked to his bedroom window—the corner bedroom on the third floor.

The candles were lit inside.

She grabbed up the books she'd dropped and ran. Her legs carried her through the gardens and up the stairs to the entrance. The marble stairs clicked under her feet as she ran up the stairs to their shared wing, barrelling toward the door with the dragon carving. The door handle didn't turn. She had to see him. Fix what she'd done.