Hermione Granger sat alone on a park swing. Her small shoulders were sheltered by Draco's larger heavy suit jacket. She appeared to be a young child. She nibbled on a sandwich as she swung cautiously.
She really wasn't in the mood to eat, but the menacing glare Draco was holding against her from across the playground was enough to get her to at least pretend she was going to.
Three days had passed since Draco Malfoy had left that room. Since then, he had made sure until that moment to never directly face her while she was conscious, unless it was of the utmost importance. Her bringing up his mother, despite the lack of control she had over her speech, had not sit well with him. He had nothing to hide, yet felt nothing short of top-grade shame whenever he was reminded of his time with the Dark One.
However, when a superior medic had suggested an outdoor trip for Granger to freshen her up, Malfoy had somehow been nominated for the responsibility of her safety. It was supposed to be his day off, but he didn't complain, and had driven for thirty minutes to retrieve his son from his nursery, and take them both to the park. Scorpius sat at an adjacent swing licking his ice cream. He too was timid in his swinging, careful not to knock away Hermione's IV drip stand that stood in the sand between them. Draco had pestered her to get something simple to eat, so there she was. The food he had gotten for her tasted like sandpaper in her mouth, and every bite she took further provoked the possibility of her throwing up. Draco, from a few feet away, could see this on her face.
Draco was very particularly concerned with Hermione's case of retrograde amnesia. It was not odd when considering the trauma she went through at the accident, but it was when considering her mental health. She was perfectly healthy. It just added to the very long list of things wrong with her that he would try to fix. It was important they found out what exactly happened in that car while she was driving, to pinpoint in exactness the cause of all her diseases; she'd shown no symptoms of anything before the afternoon of the crash.
The hospital had still lot yet managed to maintain her rhythmic heartbeats, and her fever was still rising.
A day after that her results came back from the lab. The blood tests they had previously conducted proved her to be BRP positive— she had Bloodroot Poisoning. Some of it's precise effects had only recently been found, and many more were still to be found. There was no cure but prayer.
It was a deadly poison, made and used once accidentally by Seamus Finnigan in Professor Snape's Potions class to make three owls faint and implode. Snape had been very mad that day. The effects it had on the human being were still bring documented. All Draco knew was to keep her in a warm, safe environment. Above that and more worryingly, her fever had not reduced, even after fifteen days of treatment and bed rest.
"Dad!" Scorpius yelled from across the playground, his voice shrill, loud, and severely urgent.
That caught his attention, snapping Draco out of his deep dark trance.
"What? What's wrong? Are you okay?" He stood quickly, evaluating the full forms of both his child and his patient. "Granger, you're okay?"
"Can me and Mithith Granger get ice cream, please?" Scorpius asked, innocent and oblivious. "Pleaaaaase?"
Draco let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders loosening. He nodded and gestured for the both of them to go on. Scorpius leapt off his swing enthusiastically, jumping beside his father as he waited.
Draco took his patient by the hand and helped her up. She leaned on him more dependently than he'd expected. A stifled groan escaped her, expressing her pain as she began to stand. Holding her by the arm and from around her waist, Draco lead Hermione out of the large patch of sand and onto solid cement. With her free hand she pulled along her IV stand. Scorpius held on to the rod and pulled it with her.
After setting her down on a nearby bench and manually checking her pulse, Draco took his son by the hand and led him to the ice cream truck.
When Scorpius's mother had become ill, she'd begun to take him to ice cream parlours a lot less. Though they were a healthy family, Astoria had insisted on the importance of self-satisfying once every few months. Scorpius, extremely young at the time, was fixated on gratification by ice cream. When she died, the first thing his father had fed him was a scoop of ice cream. The dessert had become a classic go-to for themselves and those around them when in trying times. They'd never looked at ice cream the same again.
Draco came back to Hermione with a singular trial spoon. She took it in her mouth gratefully. Scorpius returned to them holding a kids' scoop cone, the warm air already beginning to work on melting the topmost layer. He licked at it with wild determination. He sat beside Hermione, his short legs swinging beneath him.
Draco glanced at his watch. It was almost time to get Hermione back to the hospital. He decided he'd make them leave as soon as Scorpius was done with his cone. The last thing he needed with a three year old and a sick patient was sticky ice cream-covered car seats.
"Ready to go, Granger?" he asked when Scorpius jumped up and threw the ice cream paper into a nearby trashcan. Hermione only nodded once as Draco came over to help her up. She was unable to move, however, when a huge wave of contractions hit her in the stomach. She clutched her torso as if it were her only hope in keeping her intestines in.
"Granger?" Draco was alarmed at the sudden jerky movement she made doubling over. She started shaking, almost as if she were crying, but to a more severe degree.
"Granger, I need to see your face." His tone implied his concern, but as much as Hermione tried to uncurl from her position, it was impossible with the sheer agony of the pain.
Hermione had been a tough cookie since the day she had been born. While her mother was fighting through the last term of her pregnancy, she had contracted gestational diabetes. Hermione was a small child, and was born without efficient minerals, low blood sugar, and jaundice. To top off, she had sustained multiple injuries to her person due to her size and the fact that she was born pre-term. Nonetheless, she had pulled through after treatment and long days in an incubator.
As Hermione's years passed on, she had sustained several other diseases and injuries. She had vitamin deficiency, and was smaller for her age. She was also a primary target for bullying, both in the Muggle and wizarding world. During the final war, she had been bitten, stabbed, electrocuted, and cursed too many times to count. She had scars all over her body to prove it. But even with all that experience, she didn't have anything to compare to the most painful burning sensation she felt in her lower abdomen.
"Excuse me, miss," Draco beckoned to an older lady, who'd stopped to ask if they needed help. "Dial an ambulance." He then turned his attention back to Hermione's pains.
"Granger, at least let me do a quick exam on your person. What hurts?" Draco was grasped her upper arms as she stayed doubled over on the park bench, her head in her hands.
Very weakly she mumbled, "Abdomen." Her face grew hot, and her hands tightened around her hair.
"Granger, get up and let me check it."
"I can't… I can't, don't make me move."
Draco turned back to the woman standing behind him, "Have you called them yet?!" She nodded quickly. Draco then addressed his son and said, "Buddy, I need you to do me something okay?"
Scorpius was wide-eyed, horror evident on his face while he watched Hermione. Draco gave him the car remote, gesturing to the direction of their vehicle. "Go get Daddy's doctory heart-hearing thingy, okay, Bub? Go quickly, and don't let anyone stop you in the way. If you need help, yell, I'll be right here. Go, Bub, now."
Scorpius nodded quickly and ran off with the key.
"Granger? Grang— Hermione, try to sit straight. Take your time, but try."
She shook her head slowly, not causing anymore troubles to her lower abdomen. Draco sighed and held his hands, but not much later prompted, "Does it hurt more on the right or left side?"
What she then told him, in a voice so below her normal volume, caused Draco's shoulders to visibly tighten. His eyes shut closed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and mumbled under his breath one word that scared Hermione like nothing ever had before. "Shit."
