Voldemort screamed and held Draco tightly against his body. Draco could not die! Voldemort was the Dark Lord, he would not let it happen! If there was any kind of bargain that could be made, with any kind of deity who could help Draco, he would make it. He would sell the last piece of his soul to save Draco's life if had to!
Nagini approached him rapidly and hissed at him loudly. She moved her face in close to Draco's, her tongue darting over his skin. She hissed at Voldemort again, who understood her and grabbing his wand, used the dark mark to summon the best healer he knew.
Snape arrived in minutes, and by then, Voldemort had carried Draco to the large black bed and laid him down gently.
Nagini had correctly indentified that he was still breathing, but only faintly. She could feel his life source, his body heat, it was fading, but it was not too late, not yet.
'Oh dear Gods!' Snape exclaimed, as he set eyes on Draco. Pale as moonlight after losing so much blood, and covered in black bruises about his face, it was no wonder he was hardly breathing.
Snape rushed to his side. He had no time to lose mourning over how this must have happened, and berating himself for abandoning Draco to this fate. Action was needed NOW in order to save the boy.
Kneeling beside the bed, Snape began to whisper a complex series of spells over Draco which he hoped would hold off any further damage. Draco needed healing potions desperately and Snape carried plenty with him, but unless he could get Draco conscious and something like stable, he could not get him to take a potion at all. He worked in near silence, Voldemort looking on, powerless.
Snape softly uttered healing words. He had killed one man tonight and now he had to save another's life. It felt like a kind of penance, perhaps saving Draco would redeem him for having had to kill a friend.
It was gone two in the morning when Draco began to stir fitfully.
'Ssssshhhh, Relax.' Snape tried to calm him.
Voldemort, who had been pacing back and forth anxiously, was at the bedside in seconds.
'He is beginning to become more stable.' Snape said in a hushed voice. 'But I do not yet know the extent of his injuries. I have been dealing primarily with the loss of blood from the head wound which you healed yourself, but I need to know, my Lord, if Draco sustained other injuries tonight.'
Voldemort did not want to answer this, but if it would help save Draco then he would have to do so.
'The other injuries you can see...' He indicated to the extensive bruising.
'This convulsing, my Lord... Has he sustained any internal trauma, heart, lungs, brain...?' Snape prompted.
Voldemort looked down at the floor.
'The Cruciatus curse.' He said quietly and turned away as he could not bear to see the look of horror on Snapes face. Though it was nothing compared to horror he felt at himself for having done this to Draco. The last words Draco had said to him echoed in his brain over and over. He had never had the chance to reply...
'For how long, my Lord?' Snape asked.
'A minute, maybe less.' Voldemort replied without looking at him. 'And it was a weak spell... I couldn't hold it.' He added quietly.
Rather than have to respond or acknowledge this piece of information, Snape set to work on a new set of healing spells to treat any internal trauma to the central nervous system which the torture curse may have caused. Draco's convulsive shaking began to subside.
Shortly before three, Draco's eyes opened for the first time since he lost consciousness. Unsure of where he was or what was happening, he looked up and saw a face he knew. It was his father's friend, professor Snape, looking down at him.
'Where am I?' He asked weakly.
'It's ok, Draco.' Snape said calmly, leaning over him, excluding Voldemort from his view. 'You have been injured, but you are going to be ok. You need to take some potions.'
Draco nodded. Everything hurt. He would readily take potions!
Snape offered up vial after vial of liquid, various levels of healing potions, all with different functions. With great effort, Draco swallowed them, one after the other. Snape helped him to lay back down and covered him with the blanket.
'You need to sleep now.' He said softly. 'You will probably sleep for several hours, but that's just what you need to do. Rest, you are going to be ok.'
Draco was asleep by the time he finished his sentence.
Voldemort would not let him leave. He insisted Snape stay in a guest room across the hall in case he was needed.
'Go and rest, Severus.' Voldemort instructed. 'You must be well enough to continue to heal him when he wakes.'
Snape nodded. He would not have wanted to leave even if he had been allowed to. Draco needed more treatment, more care.
'I will watch over him.' Voldemort told Snape.
Snape was unsure about this arrangement. He would rather have stayed in the room with Draco and watched over him himself than have to leave Draco alone with the Dark Lord.
'He must rest completely, my Lord...' Snape began, wanting to somehow say to Voldemort 'keep your evil hands off him!' without earning himself similar injuries to Draco's.
'If he wakes, should I summon you?' Voldemort asked, wanting to make it clear he had no mind to disturb Draco intentionally.
Snape listened carefully to the tone of the Dark Lord's voice. He had never heard him speak this way, with so much concern, not even about Nagini. What had happened here tonight after the death eaters had left? Why had Voldemort hurt Draco so badly and then been so desperate to save him?
'If he wakes, my Lord, he will probably be delirious and it will be best just to calm him and settle him back to sleep. You can summon me to do this if I am needed.' Snape offered. 'He cannot take any more potions until tomorrow morning.'
'Thank you, Severus.' Said Voldemort, with a sincerity that Snape had not known him capable of.
Alone in the room with Draco, Voldemort tentatively approached the bed, hardly daring to look. He peered at the boy who lay there, perfectly still, bruised and bloodied, and he stifled a sob of anguish as he reflected on what he had done.
So furious had he been about the danger Draco had put himself in, he had nearly killed him himself. His greatest fear, he had almost brought about by his own hand. Draco was breathing softly and lightly. Voldemort watched in silence.
'I love you...' That was what Draco had said to him. He had never said that before. Voldemort wondered if by some miracle he would ever say it again?
Exhausted, he lay down beside Draco, carefully, so as not to disturb him, but he reached out one hand and rested it on one of Draco's. Only then was he able to close his eyes and begin to drift into a light and troubled sleep.