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Chapter Thirty Five: Ready for Rehabilitation.

Hermione had been arguing all day with various members of the Order; Harry, Ron, Remus, Molly, and even Dean, all insisting she still needed a guard day and night. She argued she didn't need to be babysat and, if Draco had healed her, why would he try to hurt her now? It had taken hours to convince the Order, but no one could pose a rational argument against Hermione's logic. So, after dinner, Hermione told Ginny she was tired and to go, so she could rest. She'd reluctantly agreed and left with a stern look at Malfoy. Which, he ignored as he continued with his latest potion.

"Draco?" Hermione called, sitting up against her pillows.

"Still here, Granger." He replied, adding the finishing touches to the pain relieving potion he'd been working on. He'd prepared more than enough potions in the past week to fill a Quidditch stadium, but they were at war and precaution was nine tenths of survival.

"Are you ready?" She asked eagerly. All day, all she could think about was getting out of that bed. She wanted to leave that demoralising pit of starched sheets and stretch her tense limbs. Since she had woken up this morning, she'd wanted to banish everyone from the Infirmary and start her rehabilitation. Now, it could begin.

"I am." Placing the new potion on her bedside, he considered how to continue. He knew her legs would be weak and heavy; she wouldn't stand alone for a long time yet, but he knew she'd insist on pushing her limits. Nothing was going to be too much in her mind until she could mobilise independently once more. But he'd have to hold her enthusiasm with caution. Pushing her body too quickly would only hinder any progress. As Granger shoved the blankets away, he quickly cemented his plan of care, before she could design an overly ambitious plan of her own, "Hold still."

"What?" She raised her brows.

"I want to know how effective the potion is so far." He explained, "Tell me when you can feel my fingers." Gently, he ran his fingertips up the curve of her foot. The arch was soft, but the heel was tough from walking up and down the hard stones stairs of Hogwarts for years. He trailed up one foot and down the other, waiting for a response.

"Have you started?" She frowned, concentration sharp on her face.

"Yes." He slid his fingers up to her ankle next, drawing circles around the bony joint. Glancing up at her, he concluded she still couldn't feel anything. Softly, he shifted his fingers to her shapely calves, moving with slow precision.

"I can't feel anything." Hermione scowled, but he could feel her frustration pouring off her like waves. He held onto his patience; he'd be just as irritable in her position, and scraped his short nails behind her knees. She didn't even react to the usually ticklish sensation. He glided his thumbs over her knees, before continuing up further. Touching his fingertips to her thigh, he skimmed the inner side, hoping to get a reaction from touching the sensitive skin.

"Can you feel that?" He asked, once his hands reached halfway. Pausing, he tapped a deliberate rhythm into her soft thighs.

She seemed to scrunch her face, trying to feel something, anything. But she felt nothing, absolutely nothing. Frustration and despair churned in her stomach. The cure hadn't worked. She wanted to cry and scream and research every possible potion and spell to help reverse this. Holding her emotions in tightly, she shook her head in reply. Never had she wanted to be wrong so badly.

Draco nodded to himself and began slipping his fingers up the front of her thighs. He briefly considered how inappropriate it may look if someone was to wander in now. They would skin him alive for touching their princess in such a way. But he couldn't care less. This was about helping Granger; about doing something useful for once. Anyone else's judgement didn't matter to him now. He only cared about proving to himself that he could be the person everyone told him he could never be because he was a Malfoy; a spoiled brat with an attitude problem. But he knew he was so much more and he would prove that to himself.

Shaking off those thoughts of grasping for redemption, he focused on his hands again. Laying his hands on her hips, he pushed into the curve. Looking up, Granger appeared different. As if she was considering something. Then a bright smile lit her face in relief.

"I can feel that!" Hermione beamed, "I can feel your hands!"

"Okay." He snapped his hands away from her body. There was no need for prolonged contact, for unnecessary touching. Taking a slight step back, to gain some personal space for each of them, he considered his next step, "Can you sit up?"

"I think so." She set her hands on the bed determinedly and pushed herself forward. Draco watched her every movement, for that sign of pain and pushing too hard. But when she moved, a reflection of pain was not given, only a slightly mechanical movement to sit forward stiffly, "It feels…like I have rust in my hips, rubbing against the joint as I move." She described thoughtfully.

"That's good; it means the cure is working." He smiled to himself. It had actually worked. He'd beaten the Dark spell. It was a proud moment for him. Finally, he was succeeding.

"Good." Leaning forward, she stretched to reach her toes, "It feels odd, but good. Like waking up from a long night and stretching your muscles."

"It's not painful?" He asked, as she continued to test her mobility.

"No." But he caught a slight hesitation. He opened his mouth to question her again, but she sighed, "It's more like an ache, like I've been doing too much exercise."

"I can guarantee you've not been exercising." He chuckled.

"Don't I know it." She seemed to pull her face, as if she was rolling her eyes.

Suddenly, she heaved her one leg out of the bed, shoving the leg closest to Draco out the bed with both hands. It dragged lazily across the bed during her effort, until it swung heavily over the edge, like a clock pendulum. Her body seemed to move, as if pulled by the now hanging leg. Hermione gasped and held her leg still, her white knuckles gripping it tight.

"Granger!" He reprimanded her, his tone more like a warning. Draco placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. He couldn't say he was surprised she'd done this, but he'd hoped to stop her before she managed it. But, as he'd known for years, no one could stop a force like Hermione Granger.

As she adjusted to the new position, she tried to control the pained scowl creasing her face. Her breath came heavy and fast, as if she was running or lifting weights. She only paused for a second though, to recollect herself, before she pushed the other leg over to hang with the other. Clutching the bed covers, she shifted herself into a better position and took a deep breath. Sweat beaded at her hairline, but she looked triumphant.

"There." She smiled proudly at herself, though pain still lingered in the lines at the corners of her eyes.

"Granger." Draco sighed, "Don't push yourself. You'll only do more damage." Closing his eyes, he drew in a calming breath, "It would be stupid to push too hard and hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." Hermione insisted. Her legs felt exactly like lead weights, just as the curse wanted. It was dragging painfully on her hips and she hunched on the bed to remain steady.

Draco considered her thoughtfully. Though she was in obvious pain, she'd moved herself into a sitting position with no assistance. He'd barely hoped she'd sit on the bed so soon, let alone with her legs over the edge. His rehabilitation plan would have to be considerably adjusted to allow for Granger's determination and quicker than planned recovery. She sat in a braced on the bed, but with a glorious smile on her lips. Hermione would continue to defy all expectations of her and he couldn't think of anything better than to be wrong in his estimations in that moment.