When Draco discovered she wasn't at the swings, he headed to the only other place he knew she liked to hide out.

Praying with everything he had that she would be there, he strode through the churchyard. He would knock on every door of this town if he had to. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night. He was not going anywhere until he knew she was all right.

He flung the church door open and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the dark haired girl huddled on the back pew.

She looked up, startled. And Draco's stomach dropped at the sight of her. Her face was covered in cuts and bruises. And despite it not being a very cold night, she was shivering uncontrollably.

"Draco!" she gasped, staggering to her feet. She tripped and stumbled towards him, as Draco strode up to her, closing the gap as quickly as he could. She fell instantly into his arms sobbing, and he pulled her to him tightly - so glad he had found her, so terrified what had happened.

"I've killed him!" She howled over and over. "I've killed him!"

"What's happened, Astrid?" Draco growled furiously, "please, tell me what's happened."

He could feel her shaking violently, and he quickly shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her. He noticed she was still in her pyjamas and her feet were bare and covered in cuts.

He coaxed her down to the floor with him, pulling her into his lap, holding her tightly against him as he waited for her sobs to subside.

"Astrid, is it your dad?" he murmured softly, once he felt her body start to calm.

She nodded, but said no more. Slowly, she looked up at him and his heart constricted at seeing what that bastard had done to her.

"The mirror, I - I hit him with the mirror," she whispered eventually, "he was- he was trying to... I couldn't let him do it again..."

Draco felt sickened. He understood it was far worse than he had ever imagined.

He couldn't let her go back. He wasn't going to - he knew now that he would never leave her here again.

Draco had a plan. It was one he'd thought about in the past - day dreamed about in fact. And now he was going to go ahead with it. It wasn't a choice. It was the only way. The only way he could keep her safe. He already knew exactly how he was going to do it.

"I'm taking you with me," he stated, staring down at the beautiful, broken Muggle, whom - despite everything he had been brought up to believe in - had stolen his heart.

Confusion filled her eyes, as she looked back at him questioningly.

"You're coming with me to Hogwarts."

...

I just stared blankly at him, wondering how he ever thought that could work.

"Draco, I can't just turn up at your school," I said weakly.

"You can if I sneak you in."

He seemed so confident about this, so self assured, that I gladly shut up and let him take charge.

"There's something I need to explain to you though, about my school and about who I am - what I am."

"Oh?" I asked, curious as to what could make him sound so serious and so fearful at the same time.

"The thing is, I'm not- my school isn't..."

He trailed off as he really seemed to struggle to find the words.

"What is it, Draco?" I encouraged gently, "you can tell me, I would never judge you, you know that."

I moved off of his lap, wincing in pain as I did so, and positioned myself in front of him. I couldn't help but notice him flinch as he looked at my face. Gingerly, I reached out a hand and took his own in mine.

"Tell me," I whispered again, as he looked deep into my eyes.

"I can show you," he said hoarsely, looking with difficulty over my wounded face again.

Not letting go of my hand, he reached into his pocket with the other, and withdrew a pointy kind of stick. It looked the kind we used to play pooh sticks with on the bridge back when we were younger.

I was as confused as hell. Especially when he lifted my hand, turned it over to reveal the gash across my palm which I had procured from the broken mirror, and pointed the stick at it.

"Draco, what are you doing?" I asked, frowning up at him, expecting him to be grinning from the joke. But instead he had never looked so solemn, his silver grey eyes concentrating fiercely on my cut.

"Vulnera Sanentur," he murmured, his voice low and silky, sending unexpected shivers down my spine.

I gasped as the strangest tingling sensation spread across my palm. Draco's fingers clasped my hand tighter, steadying it as my whole body shook in amazement.

The cut was healing right before my eyes. It was closing up - my skin knitting together by its own accord. I'd never seen anything like it.

Draco kept the stick firmly pointed at my hand until it was completely healed.

And then slowly, he lowered his arm, released my hand and looked back up at me, watching me inspect my healed hand in complete and utter astonishment.

"Draco - how did you... what did you..." Nope, I was at a complete loss for words.

"I'm a wizard, Astrid."

"You're a what?" I looked up at him, my mouth hanging open in bewilderment.

"A wizard." Draco repeated, looking at me with complete sincerity. "And Hogwarts is the school of witchcraft and wizardry."

"This is insane," I breathed, slowly standing up. I looked back down at my hand as if to assure myself. Draco had healed it. I looked back at the stick still clutched in his hand.

"And is that-" I said, nodding towards it, "is that your..."

"This is my wand, yes," he said, holding it up for me to see.

So many thoughts were flying through my head, I literally couldn't take this in. He was talking about magic - actual magic. But there was no such thing.

And yet... I had just witnessed him healing my hand with a stick. A wand.

"Let me show you more," he murmured, standing up and stepping towards me, closing the gap between us. He brought a hand up and tenderly touched his fingertips to my cheek, "let me heal the rest of you."

His silver grey eyes burned into mine, making my breath hitch in my throat. My heart pounded rapidly in my chest and I could feel my palms start to sweat.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered now, his breath tickling my face, making me catch a whiff of sweet peppermint.

Slowly I nodded, closing my eyes as he lifted his wand. Cupping my face in his other hand, I heard him silkily mutter those magic words that sent shivers down my spine. I felt the tingling sensation across my wounds as my skin knitted itself together.

And, when he had finished, I felt his thumbs wipe my cheeks where tears had silently fallen.

"It's okay now, Astrid," he soothed in his soft silky voice, as my tears continued to fall, "I'll never let him hurt you again."

But I wasn't crying out of fear. I was crying out of relief.

Relief that finally, after all this time, I had been rescued.