Chapter Twenty-Five
The hospital wing was practically empty that Saturday evening. Not surprising really seeing as it was the beginning the term, the students had yet to come into contact with anything that might be potentially dangerous to their health. Well, all in good time, as they say.
That morning, there was only one bed occupied in the wing. In it was Draco Malfoy, who had been in a coma for nearly thirty six hours. Madame Pomfrey tried to keep the confusion from showing on her face whenever she went over to examine him, but she couldn't help but be absolutely perplexed as to the reason that he hadn't woken up yet.
Of course professor McGonagall, along with the Malfoy parents, had explained to her what had happened, but she couldn't honestly say that she understood it. She was a nurse after all, and didn't have much experience dealing with maladies of the mind. On more then one occasion she had suggested to both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, that they perhaps move Draco to St Mungos where he could receive whatever specialised care he needed. But they adamantly refused, saying that they had it on good authority that Draco would wake up, all in good time.
Madame Pomfrey soon realised that it hurt her head to even think about the kind of magic that was holding the young Mr. Malfoy in his current condition, so she resigned herself to simply not thinking about it. She preferred that solution to the endless pain relief potions that she would have had to give herself.
Once she had fully ascertained that the nature of his injuries was mental, and that there was nothing physically wrong with him at all, she spent most of her time in her office. She felt no guilt over leaving him as she checked up on him every few hours to make sure that nothing had changed. But that truth was that she needn't even do that.
There wasn't an hour in the day when Draco Malfoy was left alone. His parents, one or both, were there by his side, or Mr. Zabini and Miss Parkinson, would stand watch. Their constant vigil was something of a relief to Poppy Pomfrey, as she knew that she would be alerted immediately should anything bad happen. Apart from that she knew that there was no point fussing around the family as it would just annoy and perhaps anger them.
The best thing she could think of to do was let them alone, to deal with this predicament in the ways they preferred. So that is what she did.
'Blaise? Do you think he can hear us?'
'I don't think so Pansy. None of your tests have worked, and you'll only upset yourself more if you keep trying.'
Pansy knew that he was right. Over the last day and a bit, she had tried desperately to communicate with Draco in some way. She had kept constant hold of his hand and would talk to him, telling him to squeeze her fingers if he could hear her, to just give her some indication that he was aware of what was going on. But she got no such sign.
Every time he didn't respond, Pansy felt herself sink deeper and deeper into doubt and worry. She didn't let it show in front of Mr. and Mrs Malfoy, but when it was just her and Blaise by Draco's bedside, she was able to let her guard down a little and express what she was really worried about.
'What if he never wakes up?'
It wasn't so much a question as a statement. A statement of possibility. Blaise knew that it was all too possible for something to go wrong and for Draco to become damaged in some way. He did not pretend to be knowledgeable about the mind by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn't help but realise that dealing with the mind took a lot more effort and magic then it did to perform other tasks. He had seen how tired Alyssa had become after doing this to Draco, and he had never seen any witches or wizards energy become that depleted so quickly.
But at the same time, that fact was what gave him hope. The reason Alyssa had become so exhausted must be that she had used a substantial amount of magic on Draco. If that was true then he had to believe that Draco was safe and that it was just the massive amounts of magic working within him that kept him from being conscious. Blaise figured that it would be too much for an aware human brain to deal with.
He told Pansy as much, and saw some of the doubt disappear from her eyes, but he could still tell that she was extremely stressed and worried.
He could tell by the strain of her lips and the tightening of the skin over her cheekbones, as she repetitively sucked in her cheeks, a nervous habit she had had since childhood. He could tell by the furrows that appeared between her eyebrows as she frowned, the way she constantly brushed her hair behind her ear and then let it fall helplessly back into her face.
But most of all he could tell by the deepening of the colour in her eyes. They went from being a clear light blue, a colour he had grown accustomed to over the years, to being an almost indigo purple.
Both he and Draco knew that whenever Pansy's eyes changed to a darker colour, it meant that something was bothering or worrying her. But, perhaps, Blaise was a little better at sensing these moods before they came. Draco couldn't do that, at least not with Pansy. But Blaise, he always new when Pansy was upset, and he always went out of his way to prevent it from happened.
He figured that's what people did when they were in love with someone.
Blaise knew that it would come as a surprise to everyone, since there was no evidence of him ever having these feelings, but yes, he was in love with Pansy Parkinson.
Blaise smiled as he said this to himself whilst sitting in the hospital wing, admiring the subject of his affections from across his best mates' hospital bed. The whole situation seemed rather bizarre to him. If you asked him to pinpoint the exact moment that his feelings for Pansy changed, he would not be able to tell you. He would not be able to give you a day, month, year or any other sort of time frame.
All he knew was that after the war, these feelings had become more potent. But they hadn't been new feelings. No he felt as if he knew them, had become accustomed to them, without even knowing he had them. Coming back to Hogwarts that year, being back in the place that had given him some of his best, and worst, memories had been like a trigger for Blaise. Suddenly he knew what he wanted, that being Pansy, and knew that he would do anything to get her.
In hindsight, he linked these rather out of character urges with the reappearance of Alyssa. It had been common knowledge around the school that the Malfoy's and Parkinson's hoped that one day their families would be united through the marriage of Draco and Pansy.
Blaise saw that as the most logical reason that he had never openly acknowledged his feelings to himself until now. There had been no point, Pansy was going to marry Draco and there was nothing that he could do about it. But it is possible, that somewhere in the back of his mind, he had always remembered Alyssa, and had always known that it was she who had been destined to marry Draco, not Pansy.
So his unconscious mind allowed his feelings for Pansy to grow, until the time when Alyssa came back into their lives, no doubt rekindling the bond between her and Draco at the same time. Blaise now knew that even if their parents still wanted them to get married, there was no way Draco would choose Pansy over Alyssa.
He loved Pansy; Blaise knew that and didn't resent it as he knew that Draco loved Pansy as a sister, just as he had once loved Alyssa. But now that there was nothing really standing in the way of him and Pansy being together, his emotions and feelings for her were let loose and he was left to realise that he loved Pansy more then he had ever loved anyone.
The only problem being, he had no idea if she felt the same.
He knew that Pansy had often deluded herself into thinking that she was in love with Draco and that he loved her back in that way. She probably thought that it would be easiest for everyone if she could make that come true. But Draco hardly ever played along.
In public perhaps, in order to brag or to make him look more desirable, but in the safety of the Slytherin common room, or back home at the manor, Draco never gave in to Pansy's fantasies. Blaise had hated to see Pansy get so upset every time Draco rejected her, and he did his best to soften the blows, but he knew that in the long run it was for her own good. Draco would never be one to delude himself, and so he would never have been able to love Pansy in the way that she deserved.
Pansy knew that now, and the minute that it had become apparent that they were no longer obliged to get married; Blaise had seen a great relief wash over Pansy and things between the three of them had been as easy as ever before.
But now…
Was he stupid for wanting her, for loving her? Was it worth the damage it would do to the way the three of them related to each other?
Blaise honestly didn't know the answers to those questions. And the two people that he would ask were unreachable at that present time. One was in a magically induced coma, and the other was cavorting around in ottery st whatchamacallit!
'Merlin I wish Alyssa was here!'
'Why? Am I not entertaining enough for you Blaise?'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Nothing. Just forget I said anything.'
There was a pause before he replied. Choosing his words very carefully he said;
'You don't resent Alyssa coming back to us, do you?'
'What? No, no absolutely not! I loved Alyssa just as much as you did when we were younger, and it's amazing that she's here, now, alive!'
'Then what's the problem?'
'I don't know what you're talking about Blaise, I don't have a problem.'
'Don't lie to me Pansy. You never could, and you never will be able to. Now spit it out! What is you're problem with Alyssa?'
'For the last time Blaise, I don't have a problem with her! But did you ever stop to think that maybe she has a problem with us!'
Blaise was too shocked to reply. He figured that it had been a rhetorical question, but he still tried to get to grips with an answer in his mind.
Did Pansy have anything to base this notion on? Had Alyssa ever shown anything but relief and pleasure to be back in their company? As far as he could tell, the answer to both those questions was no. but Blaise new not to jump to any hasty conclusions. Everything that had happened in the last week had happened so quickly, that it was easy to loose sight of the fact that Blaise and Pansy had only really known who Alyssa was for about four days. And so much had occurred in that time that Blaise had never stopped to consider whether Alyssa was really happy to be back with them, or whether revealing herself was just a part of some master plan that she felt she had to endure.
He decided to hear Pansy out; her explanation may put rest to some of his fears. Then again, it could give them more evidence as well.
'Explain.'
'Think about it Blaise. Think of everything we've done in the past, everything we've done recently. Do you really think that Alyssa could forgive our actions so quickly? You know as well as I do that she was always different. She brought out the best in us when we were younger, probably because her blood wasn't so tainted with generations of dark magic. If she had lived out her life with us, you know that she would never have been put in Slytherin, she's too good for us, and she always was.
And look at who her brother is. Harry Potter for Merlin's sake! After everything we did to make his life a living hell, do you honestly think that she can be that happy to be back with us. If I were in her position, I'd probably turn all three of us in the ministry for crimes against humanity.'
As faulty as Pansy's logic was, Blaise knew that she had a point. He would also have found it very hard to forgive had he been in Alyssa's position. But then again…
'You're right Pansy; Alyssa was always too good for Slytherin. And that's why she is able to forgive us for everything that we can't forgive ourselves for. She still wants to see the good in us, even if we've given up believing that there is any there. She's not like us, she's better! So your arguments are completely unfounded. Alyssa does not have a problem with us, and she is just happy to be back with us.'
'If she's so happy then where is she? Why isn't she here with us now, waiting for Draco, whom she was closest to, to wake up from this accursed coma?'
'Yes, we've been wondering that ourselves.'
Looking behind him, Blaise saw that the Malfoy's had just entered the room and had heard the last piece of his and Pansy's conversation. Blaise immediately stood up and offered Narcissa his chair, and then went to stand beside Pansy. Narcissa immediately bent over the bed, in order to brush some of Draco's hair out of his eyes. Blaise of course refrained from saying anything, but he knew that if Draco had been at all conscious of what was happening, he would be seething at that action. He hated it when his parents, especially his mother, treated him like a child.
Narcissa sat back down when it become clear that his hair wasn't going to stay how she wanted it, and said;
'I can't help but wonder that if she were here, Draco might wake up sooner. Her magic acting as some kind of catalyst. Either way, I can't quite believe she left, what could be more important then Draco, or us for that matter.'
Her statement made Blaise have to bite his tongue, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. The way Narcissa and Lucius viewed things was as if they still thought that Alyssa was theirs. In fact they were all seventeen now, so were all adults, but Alyssa in particular hadn't belonged to the Malfoy's for ten years. But they didn't seem to understand that Alyssa had other priorities now, and that seeing to their every need wasn't very high on her list.
'With all sure respect, Mr. and Mrs Malfoy, but I think Alyssa did the right thing in going away. Not only will Draco be severely confused when he wakes up and will need time to sort things out before he sees her again, but also because of the fact that she has a new family now. She came to Hogwarts in order to meet and spend time with her brother, her twin brother. And in her opinion, Harry is probably the most important person in the world right now, with Draco coming in a close second of course.'
He had tried to word it as gently as possible, but he couldn't help the note of reproach that could be heard in his voice. It was safe to say that Blaise had grown in confidence ever since the end of the war, and no longer deferred to the Malfoy's as being of a higher status then him. In the world that they lived in now, they were all just as low as each other.
No one deigned to respond after that, and an uncomfortable silence settled upon the four of them. It was around six o clock, and it was at this time that Blaise and Pansy normally went for dinner in the great hall. But neither of them felt much like eating when a third of their party wasn't able to. So instead they all sat there rather awkwardly, that is until Pansy dared to ask a question.
'Did you know?'
'Know what Miss Parkinson?' Lucius replied in his formal, clipped voice.
'Who Alyssa was. She said that she thought that you probably knew somewhere inside you, and that's why you stopped looking for her. So, did you?'
'How imperti…'
'No we didn't know. Not at the time anyway.' Narcissa interrupted before her husband could finish his insult.
'We honestly stopped looking because we believed that we would never find her. We had always known that she was different, special, but we didn't think that was special enough for anyone to want to kidnap her. I mean they just took her, it wasn't for ransom otherwise we would have gladly paid the money.
But there were no demands, no reasons and so we believed that she was completely lost to us, and we didn't want to put ourselves or the rest of her family through any unnecessary pain. Of course now we know that she wasn't kidnapped, and that no matter how long or far we looked, we would never have found her.
'Truly, it wasn't until your fifth year that I started to think that something was wrong. As you know, there is a tapestry in Grimmauld Place that shows the entire Black family tree, but you might not know that it is enchanted. It updates itself whenever a new member of the family is born or dies.
So when kreacher, that wretched house elf, came to Bellatrix and me with information about the order that year, I asked him if a date of death had been added underneath Alyssa's name on the tapestry. I was desperate to know if she was alive or not. But he told me that there was no such name on the Black tapestry, and left. Then, I just put it down to house elf stupidity, but now I know that of course her name wasn't on the tapestry, because she wasn't a Black, she's a Potter!'
The last word was spat out like poison. Narcissa's tale brought many things to light, but perhaps most importantly it showed that the Malfoy's still hated Harry Potter, even if she had saved his life. Their prejudices, Blaise knew, would only serve to distance them further from their 'daughter'. But he also knew that it was not his place to tell them, and that if he did, they would simply not listen.
Knowing that there wasn't much that he could say or do to convince them that Alyssa wouldn't stand for their attitudes, Blaise decided that it was probably time for him and Pansy to leave. Gently laying a hand on her shoulder, he signalled to Pansy that they should go. She reluctantly let go of Draco's hand and got up, ready to leave for dinner.
'We'll leave you alone with your son now. But I wouldn't worry too much; he should wake up by tomorrow evening. I think Alyssa meant for him to be ready for classes next week, plus she's coming back tomorrow so…'
Blaise left the thought hanging, not wanting to conjure up any false hope. But he had a pretty good feeling that Draco would wake up the next day. With that thought clasped firmly in his mind, he led Pansy out of the hospital wing, adamant on making sure that she ate something before she went to bed.
Regardless of his many flaws, you couldn't say that Draco was someone prone to inaction. He was never one to just sit around doing nothing, just thinking about something. That's probably one of the reasons his schemes had never worked, he never thought them through. So it's safe to say that the predicament that he found himself in that week was not desired.
In fact, Draco was pissed!
There were numerous reasons for his current state of emotion, and Draco had had plenty of time to consider them all. Firstly, there was the fact that he was not in control of his own body. It didn't respond to him, or to anyone else. Draco was particularly annoyed by this, as he couldn't give any sort of sign to those sitting by his bedside.
This led to reason number two. He had to endure hours upon hours of his parents and his friends worrying about him, doubting that he'd ever wake, or that he'd surface with brain damage or something. Because whilst his body was completely inactive, it seemed that his mind was still awake.
Draco wasn't sure why this was, and to start had worried that Alyssa had done something wrong. But then he just figured that his mind would have to be active in order to deal with the part of his memory that had been unlocked. So even though he couldn't move, he was completely aware of his surroundings, and therefore the worries that plagued those sat beside him. Somehow, he knew that he would be alright. In fact he knew that by noon on Sunday he would be fully conscious and aware and have all his bodily functions back. But until then, he was left at the mercy of everyone else.
The main reason that Draco was so angry, however, was the fact that his current state gave him plenty of time to think. Draco rarely liked to dwell on his thoughts, as they always took him to the dark recesses of his mind that still haunted him. He didn't want to think about all the evil he had done, or could have done had Voldemort won the war.
He had resolved to put all of that behind him when he came back to Hogwarts, and concentrate and getting the best possible future he could. But of course, he had no choice in the matter at the moment, and so was forced to think through the events of his life and try to decide what he could have done better.
It was a long and laborious task, and one that took him all of Friday to complete. With each passing memory, Draco could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into a depression. All sounds from the outside world faded away, and he was left at the mercy of his worst fears. That was when he had really started to hate Alyssa for what she had done to him.
But as the hours passed, Draco realised that whilst he wasn't in control of his body, he could still take full control of his mind. Whilst berating himself for taking so long to realise this, he banished that darkness even deeper into his mind, by concentrating on more important things.
Or rather, more important people.
There is perhaps nothing more pure and true then the feelings you have when you are a child. And the feelings that Draco had had towards Alyssa were stronger then anything else he had ever felt. As cliché as it may sound, they were even stronger then the hatred and disgust he felt towards Voldemort, the death eaters and his own past.
He knew that if just mere thoughts of her had that much power, then he could never let her go again.
Yes he was angry. Yes he was hurt. And yes he knew that he would be having a very long talk with Alyssa about why in the name of all that was magical she had decided to do what she did.
But he also knew that nothing could keep him away from her anymore. All doubt about whether his feelings for her were real or strong enough had left his mind. He had loved her, had been in love with her, for his entire life. He just hadn't been able to remember it until now.
He loved her; he would always love her and would always protect her. But not one to be completely selfless, Draco also knew that she was the only person alive that could help him face the horror that was his past. Without her, he would simply sink deeper into depression, one that would probably end with suicide.
Draco saw that as his future without Alyssa, and it was not a future he wanted.
So he would do everything, and he meant everything, to make sure that she became his, and only his, forever.
And it was to that thought that his mind slowly drifted off to sleep, getting ready for the ordeal of waking up his body the next day.