That same night, Hermione guided Draco to his room, using a spell and to get him into more comfortable clothes without having to touch him. He lay down rigidly on his bed, his face blank. That worried her. She knelt down next to him, placing a soothing hand on his face. He leaned into it, murmuring quietly, "You smell just like him."
"Oh really?" she chuckled, "I always thought he smelled like you."
He didn't reply, his jaw relaxing when she ran her thumb along his cheek. She frowned, holding in a sigh before standing to leave. She needed to find the cure for Scorpius and return him back to where he belonged. Pulling away, Hermione quickly retreated out of the room. "Granger," he called feebly, "We're going to save him, right?"
She nodded resolutely, staring back at Draco's huddled form. "Of course."
The library was the first place Hermione would check out. She wouldn't try in Draco's study; those books were mainly useful (and non-useful) spells, business receipts, and wizard fiction. The main library, one she had rarely visited because of its creepy allure, would most likely provide the useful information. She plopped down on an old dusty, velvet green couch and Accio'd a few books from the Medical section. A lonely sigh escaped from her lips as she skimmed the first ten pages, stealing a glance at the next stack of books laying on the floor. It was going to be a long night.
The next morning, Draco slowly stretched, starting from his fingers all the way to his toes. He rolled over, opening his eyes in narrow slits at a blurry figure sitting in one of his armchairs. Hermione sat slumped in the chair, one hand supporting her face as she slept. Books lay strewn about her, one rather tall stack supporting her legs. He sat up, groaning at the pain in his back. The sound startled the young witch, her body jolting awake. She stared at him, her brown eyes filled with concern. "How'd you sleep?"
He didn't answer her, swinging his legs to the other side of the bed and stumbling to his bathroom. It didn't matter how he slept right now; he shouldn't have slept at all. He splashed cold water on his face and emerged from his bathroom, wiping his face with his sleeve. "So?" he snapped. "Any news?"
"No...it's really dark magic, Malfoy," she replied steadily, her gaze never leaving the book. "I think we should get help."
He growled, biting his tongue from what he was about to say. 'Malfoys don't need help'. Right now, he would gladly accept any that would save his son's life, Malfoy pride be damned. "Fine. Tell Potter."
He unbuttoned his shirt in front of her without hesitation and threw on a dark grey t-shirt, as well as a black sweater. "I'm going out."
Hermione was slightly red in the face, but he didn't pay too much attention to that. "Where are you going?" she squeaked. He didn't bother looking back. "Out," he repeated firmly.
Hermione emerged from the flickering green flames and dusted herself off. "Harry-"
She froze, turning bright red after interrupting a snogging session between Martin and a beautiful pale woman she assumed was Astoria. The woman wiped her lover's mouth, slightly embarrassed from being walked in on. Hermione stuttered, "I-I...Erm...Sorry."
Martin looked amused, his arm snaking around his wife's slender waist. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter are not in right now, and the children are still sleeping. Is something the matter?"
Hermione debated whether if it was her place to tell Martin about Scorpius or not. She gestured for him to join her in the kitchen, her eyes showing how anxious she was. Martin noticed, bidding his wife goodbye with a chaste kiss on the forehead and followed her. Once they were sure Astoria wouldn't overhear, she held up with trembling hands the book she brought. "Scorpius... He's been cast this spell...and I-I can't find the cure."
Martin snatched the book from her, pacing around the room as he skimmed the short paragraph about Est magicae mortem. His blue eyes were filled with concern, gently taking her hand. "Madame, how can I help? How did this happen?"
Hermione told him a brief summary of all that happened just the day before, tears brimming around her eyes when she remembered the look on Draco's face. "We need to find all we can about this... And we need to continue searching for the Reapers. You and me. Malfoy isn't capable right now."
Martin nodded in understanding just as Ginny and Harry burst through their front door and offered Astoria a scone. She politely declined, gesturing to the kitchen. "Miss Granger is expecting you."
Harry entered, his face suddenly grave, Ginny still linked on his arm. She offered a warm smile in Hermione's direction, but the latter witch had no time to return it. "Harry...The Reapers got Scorpius."
She explained to them quickly, with less details, begging them to help her find the cure. Ginny nodded bravely. "I'll go to Hogwarts and see..."
Hermione shook her head sadly. "I asked Professor Hale. He said he was already on it, so there's no point in going."
"I think we should tell Astoria," Harry suggested quietly. That never really was an option she wanted to consider. Sure, she never even mentioned her before in any conversation held with Draco, but...they never contacted each other. Well, not that she was aware. She, or he, had to have done something wrong. She shook her head. There was no reason not to tell her. "I-I'll tell her."
Hermione sat down in one of the plush chairs across from the pureblooded witch, playing with the hem of her fiery red sweater. Astoria smiled placidly at her. "What do you wish to tell me, Miss Granger?"
"Well..." she paused, decided whether it'd be proper to call her 'Astoria' or 'Mrs. Doucet'. Astoria smoothed her dark grey robes, and as though she read her thoughts, said, "Mrs. Doucet, if you may."
"Right," Hermione nodded, fidgeting under Astoria's cool stare. Astoria wasn't rude or sending any snide remarks in her direction, but she wasn't offering any warmth either. Hermione wondered what Martin or Draco saw in her. "Mrs. Doucet, last night, Malfoy and I went to Germany for a...special task."
"I am well aware of who you're dealing with," Astoria announced coolly, her dark eyes expressionless. "The Reapers. Martin and I are the ones that helped you, so I don't understand why you're trying to keep this from me."
"Sorry," she muttered. "Anyway, Scorpius-"
"Miss Granger. Pardon my intrusion, but I would like you to know that I have no intention of meddling with Mr. Malfoy's son's affairs."
"But he's your son too!" she yelled back, bolting up on her feet. Astoria narrowed her eyes, slowly rising from her seat. "He is not my son."
"What's wrong with you? You gave birth to him! You're his mother-"
Astoria's lip twitched, taking a step toward her. "Scorpius was my ticket to freedom. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Hermione took another step toward her, matching her icy glare with one of her own. "You heartless, conniving-"
"I'd be careful with your words if I were you," she warned, her tone showing her seething anger. Hermione didn't care at all. Scorpius was the sweetest child, and seeing this woman dismiss her own flesh and blood so easily infuriated her. "Listen here, Astoria," she hissed, "I swear on Godric's grave that I-"
"Granger. Come on," a familiar voice called from the kitchen. Hermione's gaze switched to the blond standing staunchly in the doorway, fists clenched by his sides. His grey eyes were boring holes straight at her, lip curled back in sheer anger. Hermione would've shuddered, but her own anger prevented her from showing any signs of weakness. When she didn't even budge, Draco hissed again, "Granger..."
Throwing Astoria the nastiest look she could muster, she made her way to Draco's side. "Scorpius' is dying, you cold-blooded snake."
She pulled Draco along to the back door, ignoring the looks she received from the others. Draco wrenched his arm away from her grip angrily. "What do you mean he's dying?"
"He might be...I don't know..." she trailed off, purposely avoiding his gaze. He growled, his fingers edging toward his wand. He stared into her eyes, his mask breaking for a split second. Her brown eyes softened, squeezing his hand and continued in a low voice, "He'll be fine. I promise."
She couldn't bring herself to tell him that it was true, that Scorpius was really slowly dying. His own body already filled with magic, converting his life into even more magic power. If they didn't act soon, he would eventually destroy himself. Hermione would have told him, if he didn't smile at her. That smile, so trusting and genuine...she couldn't do it. She smiled back, disapparating away.
Dinner was silent that night, the both of them all too aware of Scorpius' disappearance. Draco barely touched his food, much to the elf's hidden dismay, and the musician sat with his violin, clearly stumped as to why Mr. Malfoy hadn't suggested a tune. After dinner, Hermione called her parents with her cellphone and asked about Scorpius. He had come down with a minor fever, they said, and he hadn't stopped crying. Hermione held back tears; Draco couldn't know. The younger Malfoy had more magic than she thought. Instructing her parents to keep the boy's teddy bear away, she hurriedly dialed Harry and asked if they had any progress. "Sorry, 'Mione. Nothing yet," he apologized, his voice low on the phone.
"Okay," she simply replied before hanging up. Draco looked up from one of the medical spell books he was reading. "Who was that?"
"Harry," she said nonchalantly, folding her book page and picking up the next one in search of the spell. He simply nodded and returned to reading, muttering, "This is the only moment I wish I were a damn Hufflepuff."
The clock struck one o' clock in the morning, its lonely tune resonating in the hall outside the study. Hermione stretched, setting the book down. Draco had fallen asleep while reading, his head resting on the massive pages in front of him. Hermione shook him awake, yawning. He groaned and sat up. "What time is it?"
"One," she replied, helping him up. "Now get to bed."
"But..."
"C'mon, Malfoy."
She slung his arm around her shoulder and led him to his bed. He flopped down on his bed, not even bothering to change. Hermione pulled out her wand to put on fresh pajamas, but he glared at her. "Don't even think about it. Those rags you put on me last night were itchy and hot."
She simply stared at him. Her act of kindness was insulted? She held in a sharp retort, replying flatly, "And the clothes you're wearing are any better?"
He peeled off his t-shirt and flopped back down. "Yes."
Hermione turned on her heel without another word, ignoring the blush that heated up her face. Men shouldn't do that! she fumed as she got ready for bed. Not even if they have a fit body.
"Draco? Draco...Draco, love, wake up," a familiar voice beckoned him to open his eyes. A soft hand caressed his face, the other shaking his shoulder tenderly. He groaned, stifling a yawn. "Mother?"
Narcissa smiled hesitantly. "Your father needs to talk to you."
"No," he said harshly, gently moving her aside so he could use the restroom. He sauntered to the restroom and washed his face, wiping it off with the towel folded nearby. "Mu-"
Narcissa yelled, "Stupefy!"
His eyes widened as he dashed back to his room, Hermione lay crumpled on the floor, completely unconscious. Narcissa stood above her, panting slightly, her eyes wide and wand trained on the Hermione. She stared right back into her own son's eyes. "Draco."
A/N: Ah, long chapter so I split it in two. Then I'm revising the next part so...yeah. Review for the healing of Scorpius Malfoy!
A/N: Euphorbia is a weird name, I know. But it symbolizes persistence, and everyone here has some of it.
