Disclamer: Legally this does nothing, but I still don't own
anything. I'm just playing a little.
A/N: I've planned this
to be part of a series about them, but short chapters only because
I
can't seem to commit myself to longer things. (Incidentally I am
still working on 'Dashing through
the snow' and other stuff.) I
think it will eventually become D/H romance, but for now I'll settle
for
making it D/H friendship fics, because I think those can be
nice too, and interesting. As for the
Harry/Hermione/Ron reference
that is all up to you to decide. It can be interpreted as them
three
being a couple together, or simply as very deep ties of
friendship between the three of them.
I would like to extend a deep and profound thank you to those who
have reviewed - you have
no idea how happy you make me. Extra
special cookie thanks to requim17, soofija and
kayceejay-1
for, albeit unknowingly, reviving my decision
to write with their reviews. (I am unsure of whether
kayceejay-1
will read this, but just in case.) Now, onwards, my brave lads and
lasses!
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Force no spells can mend
Hermione slunk into the changing room, grateful of the emptiness
that greeted her, and sank down
onto the bench at the very back of
the room, hidden behind the last line of lockers. She retained
a
straight posture during the few seconds it took for her to get
lost in thoughts, then she simply slumped
forward with all the
natural elegance of a haysack. She stared blankly at the yellow wall
in front of her
and sucked a tangled curl of hair into her mouth.
It tickled against her gums, tears were gliding freely,
though
unbeknownst to her, down her cheeks, like fast cars on winter
roads, slipping, sliding, out of
control, spinning away into each
other, tearing metal and flesh with force no spells could mend.
The thought of it was too horrifying, too close to what she had
just experienced, for her to wrap her
mind around it. Healers
–even those in training, no, especially those in training- at St.
Mungo's should
be less sensitive, should be able to take it, she
remembered thinking. Otherwise they shouldn't be
there at all.
Then she fell forward down onto all fours on the floor and threw up
until there was nothing
left but bitter bile that burned at the
back of her throat.
Huddled over her own mess she continued to hack and cough, shivers
traversing her body as she
cried and did nothing to wipe away the
snot running from her nose or the vomit on her lips. And
suddenly
someone was carressing her back soothingly and coaxing her onto her
feet into a warm
embrace as she hiccuped. Concerned bluegrey eyes
met hers briefly before she tipped her head
forward and hid inside
a cave of her own hair. She heard a soft "Scourgify" before Draco
sat down on
the bench and simply drew her onto his lap where she
curled up like a large child. She felt him sigh
and rest his head
on her shoulder as she did on his, staining his work robes.
They sat like that for a very long time and at one point Hermione
thought Draco even dozed off but if
he did then she wouldn't
begrudge him those few moments of rest. He had been through a rough
night
just like her, and having his arms around her, feeling the
friendly warmth, was more comforting than
anything else he could
have said or done. Eventually she pulled back slightly to stare at
him with red-rimmed
disoriented eyes that shimmered with despair
and they just looked at each other.
Draco stroked her temple with one finger and then brought it up
before her eyes – it was smeared with
blood. After a long
breathless period she forced herself to speak. Her tongue felt like
lead but she
owed him reassurance, but it was still an almost
herculian task to make her lips move, her mouth form
words and
push them out.
"Not mine," she said in a voice that cracked and then drew a
deep, long sigh. Hermione suddenly
became aware of her stomach
muscles aching, the absolute down-to-the-bone weariness of her
body
now that there were no tears left and the pleasant circular
motions of Draco's fingers kneading the
small of her back.
After looking at her for a few more moments he nodded curtly,
satisfied that she was better, and gently
eased her down next to
him.
"Hey. You okay?"
She looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, and then she
nodded. She read the weariness in
every line of his body, in every
gesture he made, and couldn't help but wonder why he took the
time
and effort to comfort her. It wasn't as if they were
friends, they were only going through their
apprentice time
together. He was also one year ahead of her –she had needed rest to
recover from
the war and for a very long time she had done nothing
but laze around with Harry in pajamas all day or
escort Ron on one
of his restless walks outside of the country house where they had
holed up- and
they only saw each other sometimes in the hallways
or during medical procedures.
The only thing they really had in common except for the big
general stuff like Hogwarts and the war,
she reflected, was that
neither of them had very many friends even though her fame and his
money
would always ensure they didn't have to sit alone and eat.
God, she missed Harry and Ron right now
and she swallowed tightly
at the thought of just apparating home to the apartment and crawling
into
their sleepy embrace.
Then she squashed curiosity and longing; there was no point in
expanding energy over the first and as
soon as she had reported
she could achieve the second.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." And she was.
He shrugged and walked towards the door.
"Hey Malfoy," she called, meaning to thank him and he stopped to look at her over his shoulder.
"It's my job. I'm a healer, okay? I can't stand by and just watch while people are in pain."
"Huh?"
"That's what you wanted to ask, right? Why? Well, that's
why. I've got to interfere and try to help, or I
go mad."
"I just wanted to say thank you." He shrugged again, as if her
thanks was neither here nor there
and she frowned.
"Don't say pointless things like that, just go home. That's
what I'm gonna do. Oh, and Granger – don't
think this means
you can talk to me in public."
He walked out the door wearing a wan but genuine smile on his lips
and his sports bag hazardly slung
over one shoulder as Hermione
shouted profanities after him.
