Chapter 12

Some Notes: I've made up a few words in this chapter as well that I think I should clarify. In my world: M.M.D stands for Magical Medical Doctorate; IN.D. stands for Incurable Diseases; and M.P. stands for Masters in Magical Psychology.

"Courage is as often the outcome of despair as of hope; in the one case we have nothing to lose, in the other everything to gain."

~Diane de Poitiers

Draco returned to the dormitory the next morning, a small bag full of pain potion vials in hand. Pompfrey had generously given them to him, saying,

"Professor Snape and I will try to come up with better alternatives, but these will have to do for now I'm afraid."

Draco could care less. He had taken them eagerly. Side effects or not, they were his lifeline from now. Granger greeted him when he came in through the portrait hole.

It was a Sunday morning. Their classes would resume tomorrow, but Draco had been in the hospital for four whole days and knew he had to catch up.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, pointing to the bag in his hand.

"Pain potions," he replied as he dropped on the couch. "She told me to come back for as many as I need."

"That's good," she nodded and turned back to the open textbook in her lap.

He watched her for a moment more before clearing his throat and asking, "What are you-um studying?"

"Oh this?" she flipped to the front cover and held the book out to him. "It's just for a bit of light reading."

"An Erudite Guide to the Erroneous Plants of the Wizarding World," he read aloud, his eyebrows rising in mock surprise. "Why the sudden fascination?"

She shrugged as she took the heavy book back. "It's not a fascination-just plain curiosity," she lied and if he saw through her white lie, he didn't press her.

"So? Find anything interesting?" he asked instead, leaning back into the cushions and running a hand through his messy locks. He hadn't had time to be very particular about his looks in the hospital.

"Well, it's all interesting really," she replied, smoothening a page and looking up at him happily. "Did you know there are over five hundred magical herbs and fungi whose properties have yet to be discovered? Imagine the possibilities!"

He smiled despite himself at her childishness. "Are you going to sit in here all day with your nose buried in that book?"

She frowned as though challenging him to dissuade her. "What more is there to do? Harry and Ron are busy with the upcoming Quidditch match and I don't really fancy anyone else's company at the moment."

He gave her a funny look, somewhere a cross between amused and incredulous, before sighing and turning to look out the large window next to the hearth. It was drizzling steadily outside, a slight fog coating the horizon in its velvet blanket.

"It's a nice day. I'm due for a walk," he murmured, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes.

And Hermione, torn between the pull of the book and the lure of those impossibly convincing eyes, hesitated only a moment before slamming the book shut.

They took the long way around the Great Hall towards the open grounds. Hermione was bundled up in a thick brown coat, a warm hat, and a long scarf. She was pulling on brown, woolen gloves as they descended the stairs.

"Let's head to the lake," Draco said from ahead. He only wore a green sweater and walked with hands in his pant pockets to keep them warm.

"Aren't you cold?" Hermione asked as she caught up. They fell in step easily.

"Hm? No, I like the cold," he replied, blowing softly in the air and admiring his vapory breath.

There were hardly any students out. In the distance, Hermione could trace the specks zooming around in the sky above the stadium. Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw was this Friday-the first game of the season.

"The grass is all wet," Draco groaned, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"Oh? Yeah, I guess it is. We can sit on those rocks," she said, leading him to some protruding boulders. They were uncomfortable, but both managed to balance themselves on the uneven surface.

Draco leaned back on his arms with a sigh, his longs legs stretched before him. Hermione blew on her gloved hands and rubbed them together to keep warm.

"Does the lake look different to you?" he asked after minutes of silence.

Hermione scanned the frosty horizon. "It's gotten gloomier I suppose. But then, isn't it always?"

Draco shrugged. "It wasn't always this dark. Mother told me it used to teem with merpeople and dryads and what not."

"But I thought there were still some merpeople. Didn't they stage a Triwizard task?"

"Only because Dumbledore asked them to. They don't live in the lake anymore. When the dementors came to Hogwarts, they left the grounds, feeling threatened, and have refused to come back since. Say they can still trace the dark magic."

"Oh." She wondered aloud how he knew so much about them.

"We used to have some back at the Manor," he replied.

"You have a lake at the Manor?" she gaped.

"Not in the general vicinity, but further on the grounds, yes. Father…he used to like fishing."

Hermione couldn't imagine Lucius Malfoy doing anything as muggle as fishing.

"We used to go almost every weekend when I was little. We always had parties over the weekend so sometimes he liked to take the yatch and go ride with a friend or two, me in tow." He chuckled suddenly. "I remember, when I was four, I fell in the lake off the back of the boat. They were so absorbed in their own little game that they didn't notice till a merman plopped me back on deck. That was the first time Father ever saw them in the lake."

"You mean he didn't even know they lived there?" she asked.

He shook his head. "The Manor is so old…Sometimes, I even get lost, and there are passages and secret doors and whatnot that like to wander."

"Just like at Hogwarts," she breathed, amazed, then asked more quietly, "Is that why he chose the Manor? Because it's very magical?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose…Father wasn't too happy, but then the Manor has a mind of its own and like generations of Malfoys, it welcomed the Dark Lord."

They were silent for a time. Hermione became lost in admiring the dew that clung to Draco's hair-it looked so soft. She wanted to reach out and smooth the ruffled ends, but made a fist and stuffed her hands in her pockets to ward off temptation.

Draco for his part was staring unseeingly at the water, his eyes lost and distant. He appeared deep in thought, so she gave him space. After a time, he spoke.

"I can't believe we're sitting here like this without hexing each other."

She peeked at him cautiously and saw that he was smiling thinly at her.

"What happened Granger?"

Hermione smiled back, glad that he didn't find her company awkward, and replied, "I guess-I guess we grew up!"

It was high afternoon by the time they sauntered back.

"Aren't you coming for lunch?" she asked as she removed her scarf and gloves.

"No, you go ahead. I'm going to take a nap," and he yawned to emphasize the point.

With a "Sweet dreams!" Hermione left him to join Harry and Ron at the table. Tired from practice and ravenous, they grumbled about the load of unfinished homework as they attacked their food, hardly noticing the happy glow that emanated off Hermione.

Hermione was glad for this respite. She was too preoccupied with her quiet conversation by the lake. He was so different then what either of them had ever thought. Perhaps it was because he was still reeling from the shock, but Hermione had a feeling that they had never known the real Malfoy-that the real Malfoy had always hid behind a bully façade.

Here was a side of him she had never seen. Vaguely, she wondered how he was like at home, or among close friends, or with his parents-with his parent. She remembered the nostalgia in his voice when he spoke of his father. Perhaps to the world, Lucius had put up an evil front-or perhaps the man truly was evil-but to his son, he must have been something more.

Knowing him now, Hermione found it hard to imagine that Draco would blindly follow a heartless man unless he had something more in him. She tried to picture Lucius as a carefree, lovable father, perhaps finishing on a sailing yatch, and failed miserably. No matter how much she sympathized with his son, Lucius would remain nothing but a evil bastard in her mind. They had suffered enough on his whims.

But Draco deserves a chance, she thought, and he would get one.

Harry and Ron wanted to run down to Hagrid's to chat and see what he was up to, but Hermione managed to bring up an excuse and managed to get away. She didn't know why she was avoiding their company-well, she wasn't really. She just wanted to see Draco.

It was only as she stepped into the common room that she recalled he was taking a nap. She sighed and sank into the cushions. It was as she was wondering what to do that she spotted a stack of books on the window ledge.

She had never seen them before and they didn't look like assigned textbooks. Curious, she approached them and peeked at the front cover of the first book: Unexplained Maladies and Afflictions…

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline when she realized these were the books the doctor had left Draco to read, but he didn't seem to want to read anytime soon. She understood-and yet at the same time, her curiosity peaked.

Tweaking her ears to alert her to the sound of his light footsteps, Hermione snatched the books and flopped on the couch. One by one, she glanced at the other covers: The Sinberger Sickness by Dr. Flora Abonce, M.M.D; Into the Abyss: A Compilation of Known Facts About Unknown Maladies by Dr. Clive Tiggles, M.M.D; Living on Deadlines: When Magic Fails by Antonette Wise, M.P.; and A Constant Ache: The Sinberger Solution by Dr. D, IN.D. Specialist.

There was a note stuck to the last cover in an untidy scrawl:

Draco,

Let me know if you're interested.

Dr. Heinshaw

She blinked, trying to imagine what odds these books hid in their numerous depths. With a deep breath, she pulled Into the Abyss from the stack and, flipping to the Contents, found "Sinberger's Syndrome" on page 500. Her eyes flew over the introduction before scanning the facts and figures.

Sinberger's Syndrome: A rare magical immunodeficiency that affects 1 in a million wizards and witches. Up to date, there have only been forty documented cases, of which there are no survivors.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly, before taking a deep breath and plunging on.

Sinberger's Syndrome affects witches more than wizards as their magical cores are emotionally unstable between the years of thirty and fifty-five. However, although these are the primary years between which the known cases fall, there have been two recorded cases of a witch and a wizard who were diagnosed prior to the age of thirty. In the case of the witch, the disease progression took a path in an unpredictable way, but she outlived the life expectancy by two whole years.

Her primary doctor concludes it is due to the concoction she consumed for her remaining five years: a potion now banned from the apothecaries for containing excess amounts of salicyl acid that is known to diminish cognitive and neurological functions. Attempts to lift the ban have been overruled.

Hermione skimmed the following history and flipped the page to read the list of symptoms:

Sinberger's Syndrome in individuals may display all or some of the following symptoms:

- excessive fatigue

- inability to concentrate

- blurry vision

- frequent headaches

- loss of appetite

- sudden weight loss

- difficulty with coordination

- a constant, nagging ache in the joints and prominent muscles

The last seems to be the most common and misdiagnosed symptom as the pain is associated directly with the magical core in the spinal column and can be mistaken for any number of immunodeficient diseases.

Next followed a relatively summarized prognosis:

- a weakening of muscles

- increased frequency of attacks (depends on the individual)

- loss of certain neurological functions (motor or sensory-again, depends on the individual)

- decreased sexual drive in wizards and inability to achieve orgasm in witches

- weakening of the respiratory, digestive, and circulatory systems

- poor circulation may result in:

o bruising

o anemia

o shortness of breath

o dizziness

Death due to Sinberger's Syndrome is most often the result of respiratory failure. In some cases, hemorrhages, seizures, and excessive internal bleeding have also been recorded.

Hermione snapped the book shut. She couldn't read anymore-it was much too horrible! Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit her lips to keep from crying out as a myriad of emotions overwhelmed her.

"It's that bad, huh?"

She jumped at the sudden voice and opened her eyes to see Draco standing before her, his eyes watching her steadily and revealing no emotion as he caught his reflection in the tears that mirrored her chocolate brown eyes.

"D-Draco! What are you-I-I was just-" and she hastily piled the books back on the coffee table, blushing at her intrusion and utterly lost for words.

He let her distract herself as she carried the books back to where she found them before turning to face him, guilt rewritten all over her features.

"Draco, I'm sor-"

"There's no need to apologize," he cut in. "If you're going to help me, you need to know."

As do you, she thought as he reached for the book she had closed and opened it to the page she had been on. Hermione stood by, watching him tentatively as he read the horror on those pages. His face remained passive, even disinterested, but his eyes gave him away.

She saw the shock and fear resurface and suddenly wanted to snatch the book from his hands. At length, he closed the book with trembling hands and closed his eyes. She saw his throat working up and down, battling the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. She wanted to tell him that it was ok to let them go in front of her, but knew his fragile pride couldn't accept another humiliating show after yesterday's.

"Draco," she whispered and he opened his eyes, but didn't face her.

"I knew it would be bad," he slowly replied, his voice sounding distant, "But I didn't think…"

He suddenly sighed and gave her a thin smile which shocked her to no end.

"How long before they ship me to Mungo's, you think?" he joked and Hermione only gaped.

She had expected him to throw a tantrum, scream, yell, maybe even lash out at her, but not this-not this joke and certainly not a smile! Not for the first time, Hermione found herself wondering just what in the world Draco Malfoy was.