The next few days slipped past without full awareness. Day turned to night in what seemed like very little hours, and when the inky black sky paled once again to a thin, washed-out blue, Hermione knew that yet another day had passed without her realising it. She just wasn't paying much attention to anything much any more.
She had been discharged from the hospital on the third day, sometime during the afternoon. Harry and Ron had come to fetch her from the ward, Ginny waiting outside the giant oak doors for them. Hermione noticed that she looked a little distracted, her hair hanging in a frame round her pale face. She made a mental note to ask her about it when she got the time. Once she returned to the Common Room, and had put Anielle down for an afternoon nap, she crossed the room and shut the door tightly behind her. She didn't even mind that it wasn't her own room; she was aware that this was Draco's room, and that she was sitting on his bed. She smoothed the fabric of the duvet, ironing out imaginary creases with the palms of her hands. Her mind wandered, and for the first time in three days, fully started to worry about her situation.
She thought about Draco, lying in hospital in a ward inside St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Was he still unconscious? Had he woken up? If so, had he asked about her at all? Was he even capable of speech? Hermione closed her eyes, her heart hammering. The soft, satiny fabric was light and cool in her fingers. Her breath came in slow, ragged inhales and exhales. Her legs felt like they were made of lead.
Just then, Anielle woke up. She was obviously not ready for a sleep right at that moment. She stirred, stretching her arms and legs, her fingers curled into fists. Hermione got up from the bed, brushed down her trousers. She walked over to Anielle's cot, where the beautiful baby girl was struggling to stand up on her not quite stable enough legs, her arms reaching out to Hermione. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Hermione leaned forward, and picked her up, cradling her close to her chest.
Hermione bit her lip, her eyes stinging with tears as she felt Anielle's soft, whispering breaths on her neck. Her blonde hair tickled Hermione's cheek, and she tightened her hold on her. She was warm, and kind of damp. Oh no Hermione remembered. I forgot to change her. Picking up a plastic bag she knew was in Draco's wardrobe, she made her way to the bathroom, Anielle in tow, snuggling up close to her mother with adoration.
Five minutes later, Hermione reappeared with a pink-cheeked, content daughter in her arms. She had been changed and was now wearing a soft white sleep-suit instead of her other pale pink one. She looked so sweet, like a baby angel, though she was getting rather big and heavy now.
"You're a growing girl, aren't you?" she whispered in the tiny whorls of Anielle's ear, and she murmured softly. Hermione crossed over to the bed again, sitting back against the dark wooden headboard. She shifted Anielle slightly, her soft baby head resting in the crook of her neck. Her fingers curled into the material of Hermione's t-shirt, her cheek brushing Hermione's. She felt a warm rush of love for her daughter, the kind of love you never want to die out, to fade away. How could she ever let her go?
Then she thought of Draco again. She thought of how she could never let him go. She could never let him go away, never let him die. There was no way that Hermione was going to let him suffer, after all he had done for her. She wanted him to get better, to come out of hospital, and to be close to her again. She sank down further onto the bed, Anielle tight in her arms. She remembered how they'd shared all their free time together, in the Common Room, talking and enjoying each other's company. She remembered the feeling of his warm body next to hers, the way he would just stare into her eyes and smile, the way their lips would meet, and her heart would race and her legs would turn to jelly…
And then she heard it. A sudden, burst of a sound, the sound of a happy voice. It came from Anielle. Hermione had been unconsciously stroking her blonde curls with her fingertips, her body wound around her mother's.
"You laughed, didn't you?" she whispered happily. "You did laugh! Oh, my darling" she whispered, holding her close. Her heart had lit up, glowing dimly like a dying-out candle. Anielle had laughed, for the very first time. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
"Oh, sweetheart. You must be very happy!" she said, tears filling her brown eyes. Her face broke into a joyous smile. "It's just a pity your dad's not here to hear you" she said, blinking and allowing a single tear to roll down her cheek. She had a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, a good feeling. Hermione was swelling up inside with the pride of her daughter's achievement. She couldn't believe it! She had laughed for the first time! More tears found their way down Hermione's flushed cheeks.
She could definitely never let Anielle go, she knew that. Without her, she knew she could achieve nothing herself. But more importantly, she couldn't let Draco go. She couldn't possibly leave him, not after everything they had suffered. If he were to leave her now, she could only begin to imagine how broken, how distraught, she would be. He was her everything, her entire world. She needed him, just as he needed her. And by the end of the night, and she was still lying on Draco's bed, her head on the pillow, and Anielle asleep in her arms once more, she knew that even though it would upset her so much, that it would hurt her to the limit, she knew what she had to do.
She had to visit him in hospital. She had to see for herself if he was going to be alright. She knew it would be awful for her, and no doubt very emotional, but there was no other reason for her not to go. He would want her to visit him, even if he was unconscious still. She just wanted to see him again. She missed him, even thought it had only been three days. Her heart beat constantly for him, her love growing stronger with every hour she spent with him, with every minute she thought of him.
She knew it was the right thing to do. But she knew that she couldn't go alone, either.