Patience
Hermione turned the page of the magazine she was reading quickly, the sound cutting through the silence of the corridor, and pulled at face at the less-than-interesting article she found.
Sighing, she threw the it down onto the seat next to her impatiently and looked at the closed door opposite her.
Why is it taking so long? She asked herself for the tenth time that hour.
Fiddling with her jacket she stood and approached the door, raising one hand to knock. She might be told to get lost – politely of course, but to the same effect – but she had to do something other than sit and wait.
The door opened as she knocked and he came out, his rucksack over his shoulders and a determined if unsure look on his face, stopping when he saw Hermione was stood in the way.
"Granger," Draco Malfoy drawled, the tone all wrong and the feelings behind it missing. "Still here, then?"
She nodded and moved back to the chairs to collect her bag. "Ready?" she asked him, one hand held out for him to take as she adjusted her bag onto one shoulder with the other.
He looked at her the same way he always did these days and Hermione smiled sadly.
Since the day she'd found him – chained up and beaten by someone he refused to name – he'd always looked as if he expected her to leave him or beat him, not look after him or care.
She took his hand gently when he made no move to take hers, and led him down the corridor of the hospital and out into the main entrance area.
"Did you want to go straight back to the house or go get something to eat first, Draco?" she asked as cheerfully as she could manage considering where they were.
"Home," he replied, his head down, looking at his feet.
She nodded having known that that would be the answer. "Okay then, lets go get in the queue to the Floo."
She'd taken him in when no one else would and when no one else believed he'd ever recover.
The physical scars of what had happened had long since faded – it was almost three years now – but the mental, emotional scars were still there.
It had taken Hermione a long time to even heal just the edges of them and she knew she had a long way to go before the gaping wounds began to close.
Arriving back at the house after Draco, Hermione shook her head to get rid of the last of the dust and toed off her shoes leaving them by the fireplace in the entrance hall to the house.
Draco had gone ahead, as usual, and was probably already in the living room so she followed, hanging her jacket up as she passed the cloak pegs in the hallway.
He was sat in his normal chair – feet tucked up, arms around his knees, his head down. It was always the same when he'd been out to the doctors for a 'check-up' and Hermione knew better than to press him.
Making some tea Hermione couldn't help but think about all that she'd been through to get Draco back to where he was today.
Sure, he wasn't the Draco she'd known at school; spiteful, ignorant, and rude. But he was starting to come out of his shell and was easier by far to look after than the timid, frail thing she'd brought home a year and a half ago.
Back then the slightest noise had set him off and she'd been forever coaxing him out of corners, cupboards, or the bathroom.
Now though he was still jittery, still afraid of things he didn't know, or sudden changes to his routine, but he was managing and, slowly, she'd seen him make small steps of progress towards his old self.
Hermione shook her head. She never thought she'd want to see the old Draco Malfoy, but compared to the young man sat in the living room right now, it would be a whole lot easier.
Pouring out two cups of tea, she picked them up and re-entered the living room putting them both down on the coffee table that sat in front of the fireplace.
"Tea, Draco," she said softly before lighting the fire and picking up her latest book and settling down on the settee for a read.
It was almost an hour before he took a sip of the tea, even though it was stone cold and turned to look at her properly, a puzzled look on his face.
Hermione closed her book, marking the page with a finger and regarded him silently, waiting for him to ask what it seemed he needed to.
"Why?" he said in a whisper, his bottom lip red from where he'd bitten it worrying.
"Why what?" she asked, knowing with some certainty what it was he was asking, but trying to make him ask properly. It was one of the things she'd slowly learnt helped him in the long run.
"Why did you... do you... look after me?"
Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly as memories of his pale, skeletal frame in chains flashed before her eyes.
"Because it was the right thing to do, Draco," she said slowly. Opening her eyes she saw his brows draw together, confused, so she continued, "What had happened to you. What they had done was wrong." She ignored his flinch as she spoke of the 'forbidden' topic, "I found you and... I wanted to look after you because it was the right thing to do."
She didn't have the heart to tell him that his own mother had abandoned him. It wasn't something he needed to know for now, at least, and she didn't know if she could ever do it.
He looked like a kicked puppy and Hermione fought the urge to comfort him, to hold him. It wasn't something he liked she knew from experience.
He nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied and turned to the fire thus marking the end of the conversation.
"Granger."
Hermione looked up from her book to find Draco sat on the floor his back to the fire.
"Yes?"
"It... Why is it taking so long?"
"To get better?" she prompted when he stopped, looking lost for how to word what he wanted to say.
He nodded, looking at his hands clasped on his lap.
Hermione didn't know what to say exactly, making promises was something she couldn't, no, wouldn't do and they'd only mess him up more if it didn't turn out to be true.
"Don't force anything, Draco," she said quietly, putting her book to one side and coming to the end of the settee to be a little closer to him. "It will take time, all things do."
"But..." he began but trailed off, looking frustrated.
"I know," she sighed, she supported her head with a hand, the elbow on her knee and tried to think of a way to put it. "You know how in a game of chess the idea is to get to checkmate?"
He nodded, so she continued with her spur of the moment analogy, "Well, think of getting better that way. It will happen, it is the aim of the game, so to speak. It's just that it takes time and consideration of the opponents pieces."
"Opponents?" His hands tightened.
She smiled, trying to ease his worries. "Yes, life is full of obstacles, Draco, but they can be overcome. I'm here to help you, if you'll let me."
Fin