"Rescued," he murmured quietly, and then felt warm, blood-sticky fingers curl around his. Draco squeezed, and Hermione squeezed back and then let go after too short a time. Draco didn’t want to let her go, but he did, chest aching and eyes opening, staring up at her face. Hermione looked down at him and smiled beatifically, the expression at complete odds with her battle-bloodied appearance. Draco drank in the weary serenity and relief written between the smears of dirt and blood on her face as she sat there with him – her eyes fixed on the starry horizon as they waited for their rescuers to come and help them up. Tend the worst of their wounds. Go back to Godric’s Hollow. To safety.