He was deathly still, pale as alabaster, his chest barely moving up and down. In the dark bedroom where he lay, Draco Malfoy could have been dead. Narcissa stood to the side of his bed, wringing her hands as the latest Healer examined her ill son. The Healer was a man of middle age, nothing remarkable about him, just like all the other ones.
"I've never seen this before," he murmured to himself as he waved his wand over the length of the young man's prone body. Louder, he announced, "There is nothing I can do. He appears to be in a coma, but the cause is unclear."
Throwing her hands up in the air, the aristocratic woman cried, "Well of course he is! Any self respecting wizard can tell that! You are dismissed, you have been no help whatsoever."
Hanging his head, the Healer apologized for his unhelpfulness and made a hasty exit, eager to be free of the almost hysterical woman.
Sighing, she snapped her fingers. A house elf appeared with a crack, and tiredly she ordered it to watch over the sick man. Sweeping out of the room, she made her way to her husband's office to inform him of another failed attempt at diagnosing their son.
Lucius Malfoy's office door was open, and looking in, she saw he was staring blankly at the wall, deep in thought. She quietly knocked on the door frame, jolting him back to the present.
"That terrible excuse for a Healer did absolutly nothing but state the complete obvious," she stated flatly.
"Don't worry, my dear, I think I have found us someone who can help him," Lucius replied.
"Really? And who might that be?"
"Hermione Granger," Lucius stated with an air of finality.
"Wha-?" Narcissa choked out, but was interuppted.
"Top of her class all the way through her schooling, top Healer at St. Mungos, and Muggle born, yes, the very same," he said.
" Do you really think she can help?
"I beleive she is Draco's best chance."
"Then call her here at once."
At St. Mungos, the same Hermione Granger was just finishing up the last few healing spells on an old man who had accidentally charmed his cauldron to repeatedly bash himself on the head. Just as the last spell left her lips, a harried assistant rushed in, bringing the message that she was urgently needed on a house call. Following the assistant, she was stunned to see a uncharacteristicly unkempt looking Narcissa Malfoy waiting for her.
"Ms. Granger, I am sorry to bother you in the middle of your work day, but we have an emergency at the manor, that other Healers have failed to help with. I come to you because I feel you may be the only hope we have," she pleaded.
Hermione was stunned. Where was the cold, holier than thou attitude? Where was the blood predjudice? However, the poor woman looked frantic, and Hermione was a Gryffindor through and through, and she would never leave someone in need if she could help them, no matter what the past held.
Steeling herself, and trying to speak confidently,she said," Where to?" Her slightly quivering voice gave her away though.
Mrs. Malfoy flushed with relief, and announced that they would floo to the manor from the waiting room fireplace.
She went first, saying the name very clearly, and Hermione followed her.
"Malfoy Manor!"