'Heal'
Chapter 3
'Relax...we're trying to help you...'
Though his eyes hazed with pain, he saw her. He knew that he'd seen her somewhere before...but...where?
He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see; yet he was unable to determine the identity of the woman, who seemed all too familiar to him. The sense of familiarity had a somewhat calming effect on him. Perhaps...perhaps she truly wanted to help him...she was different from the others, wasn't she?
She gazed down at him, liquid brown eyes widened slightly with shock. She finally spoke, in a soft, disbelieving voice.
'Malfoy?'
~~~
Draco groaned as a pale, dimly lit room came into focus. The ceiling swam before his eyes, bobbing in and out as if he were at sea. Bitterly, he wondered if he really were at sea. Maybe Potter had thrown him into the sea as shark bait. (Shark bait hoo-ha ha!!) But that was highly unlikely. Maybe he was in Heaven, then. But who'd let a Death Eater into Heaven?
Besides, Heaven didn't smell like disinfectant. Disinfectant = Hospital. So he wasn't dead. Oh the cruelties of the world.
Draco sighed and stared back up at the gray, cracked ceiling. His thoughts wandered invariably to the person he least expected to see when he had neared Death's doorsteps.
Hermione Granger.
He'd recognized her gaze, which, though somewhat haughty, always concealed a certain softness. And surprisingly, Draco hadn't felt a grain of revulsion when he realised he was lying in the arms of a mudblood. Instead, he'd felt relief wash over him, and passed out soon after.
/Tricked by a mudblood! She probably saved me so Potter could get the information he wanted...I'm as good as in Azkaban if I stay here a moment longer!! /
Head throbbing from the effects of a Sleeping Draught, Draco struggled into an upright position, only to let out a feeble whimper of pain and fall back on his pillow, feeling utterly drained and exhausted.
/Damn...I can't be this weak...I'll never escape from this place like this... /
He got up once more; planting his feet firmly on the cold, smooth ground. Ignoring the screaming protests from his aching body, Draco stood up, swaying slightly on his feet. He was steadying himself, waiting for the light-headedness to pass, when the door swung open, and a witch, dressed immaculately in lime-green robes, strode in.
'Malfoy! What in the world do you think you're doing?!' Granger looked positively McGonagall-like as she gave Draco a disapproving look.
'Standing,' he answered matter-of-factly, the light giddiness in his head not quite departed. Strange, he thought. Now it seemed like there were two Grangers.
'You'll get yourself killed! Do you know how much blood you lost...' Granger planted Draco firmly back down onto the bed.
'Don't touch me with your filthy hands, Mudblood!!' He threw Granger a look of utter loathing. 'And don't think I'll be grateful, Granger.' He looked scathingly at the healer, pale eyes cold and expressionless. 'I know bloody well what you want from me.'
'In case you were wondering, Malfoy, I didn't save your life just so I could help Harry,' She narrowed her eyes. 'I'm merely doing what my job requires, that is, as your healer-in-charge.'
'You?!' Draco sniffed. 'Of all the freaking healers in the hospital I had to get you!'
'Actually, that's because no one else wanted to be your healer-in-charge. Too frightened, I suppose. But they shouldn't be - they'll be sending you to the Ministry soon.'
'Shut up, Mudblood.' His stomach lurched at the thought of what the Ministry would do to him. Worse, what his Father would do to him. 'Think you're so big...you and that Potter...' Draco froze. He felt Granger's cool fingertips as she laid a hand across his forehead.
'Just as I suspected. You're delirious, Malfoy.' Draco looked up. Though far from beautiful, Draco thought, admittedly, that Granger didn't look all that bad, especially up this close. Though she kept her face stern -her mouth pressed in a thin line - the clarity of her dark, intelligent brown eyes caught his breath. The throbbing in his head seemed to subside as he sat still in his bed, all the time staring at Granger. He felt a warm, almost tangible sensation pass though him, something he hadn't felt in such a long time. Something he'd felt when Mother was still around, and even then, quite rarely. It was making him feel rather faint.
Finally, Granger released her hand. She stood up, looking a little flushed, but nevertheless, unruffled. 'Well, I'd better get you some potions, then.'
'No...wait!' Granger whipped round, looking slightly shocked. Wisps of brown hair curled like tendrils down the sides of her face; the rest of her hair was pulled back tight in a ponytail. She looked wary, as though suspicious that Draco was up to something.
'What?'
'I...You...Aren't you sending me to the ministry?'
'Not till you've fully recovered, Malfoy. Now would you sit still?'
Granger walked back with a syringe in one hand and pale-blue potion in another. Her stern gaze softened when she saw Draco, quivering slightly under the pale moonlight. Draco scowled.
'If you think I'm grateful, Granger, you're dead wrong.'
'So you mentioned,' Granger replied icily, lightly puncturing Draco's arm with the syringe. Scowling, Draco turned away from the healer and faced the window instead. He saw that it was drizzling lightly and gazed, with mild fascination, at the tiny, glistening pearls of rainwater gliding down the windowpane.
'Because...you should have just let me die, Granger,' Draco whispered in a barely audible tone. Granger looked up.
'Why?'
/ And why live? Things would be much less complicated if I was dead.
I'm sick of running away, sick of hiding, sick of living with the fact that I'd killed, that blood had stained my robes more than once.
Sick of being treated, by my own Father, like a mere tool. All this while I've respected him, and yearned to receive his acknowledgement. But it never came, not even when I joined him to become a Death Eater myself. But I never gave up. I continued to serve Father, in hopes that he would come to respect and acknowledge me.
My hopes were shattered the moment Harry Potter pointed his wand at me. I've become a bane to Father, nothing but a worthless burden.
If I'd died, I would be less of a burden to Father. Perhaps he'd only acknowledge me then. If I'd died, maybe I could see Mother again...Mother loved me. Oh sure, she didn't show it much, but I could tell.
Mother was the only one who made me feel like a person. Not Draco Malfoy, that rich man's kid. Not Draco Malfoy the prefect, not Draco Malfoy, the powerful Death Eater. She made me feel like I was needed, like there was a reason for my existence.
But she's gone. Been gone for three months now. Does that mean I've lost the reason for my existence?/
'Oh...nothing,' was all Draco said. He leant against the pillow, the dull, throbbing ache returning to his head. This was definitely too much thinking to do in one sitting. 'Leave me alone, Granger. You irk me.'
'I would leave you alone, but I was told to keep a watch on you,' Granger raised an eyebrow. 'Don't want those suicidal tendencies acting up again, do we?'
Draco blinked. There it was again. That strange, warm, bittersweet sensation gliding down his throat and through his body. He liked it; just that it he was rather appalled that Granger was the one making him feel this way.
'But I guess I'll leave, since you find me so irksome,' with that, a very disgruntled looking Granger strode out of the room.
A moment or two passed before Draco staggered towards the window, lifted the pane and peered out, gentle breeze brushing against his face.
Just checking for ravens.
D/Hr forever!!!! Kyaaaaaa~! XP XB X3!!!
Sorry, I'm mad. Jus me and my personal opinion.
*proceeds to owl JK Rowling on why Draco should be with Hermione*
*proceeds to send a Howler if she ignores me*
*muses* I wish I had a nicer sounding summary...any suggestions anyone?
And don't you try and sneak away!! Press that button and review, evil person!
'Relax...we're trying to help you...'
Though his eyes hazed with pain, he saw her. He knew that he'd seen her somewhere before...but...where?
He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see; yet he was unable to determine the identity of the woman, who seemed all too familiar to him. The sense of familiarity had a somewhat calming effect on him. Perhaps...perhaps she truly wanted to help him...she was different from the others, wasn't she?
She gazed down at him, liquid brown eyes widened slightly with shock. She finally spoke, in a soft, disbelieving voice.
'Malfoy?'
~~~
Draco groaned as a pale, dimly lit room came into focus. The ceiling swam before his eyes, bobbing in and out as if he were at sea. Bitterly, he wondered if he really were at sea. Maybe Potter had thrown him into the sea as shark bait. (Shark bait hoo-ha ha!!) But that was highly unlikely. Maybe he was in Heaven, then. But who'd let a Death Eater into Heaven?
Besides, Heaven didn't smell like disinfectant. Disinfectant = Hospital. So he wasn't dead. Oh the cruelties of the world.
Draco sighed and stared back up at the gray, cracked ceiling. His thoughts wandered invariably to the person he least expected to see when he had neared Death's doorsteps.
Hermione Granger.
He'd recognized her gaze, which, though somewhat haughty, always concealed a certain softness. And surprisingly, Draco hadn't felt a grain of revulsion when he realised he was lying in the arms of a mudblood. Instead, he'd felt relief wash over him, and passed out soon after.
/Tricked by a mudblood! She probably saved me so Potter could get the information he wanted...I'm as good as in Azkaban if I stay here a moment longer!! /
Head throbbing from the effects of a Sleeping Draught, Draco struggled into an upright position, only to let out a feeble whimper of pain and fall back on his pillow, feeling utterly drained and exhausted.
/Damn...I can't be this weak...I'll never escape from this place like this... /
He got up once more; planting his feet firmly on the cold, smooth ground. Ignoring the screaming protests from his aching body, Draco stood up, swaying slightly on his feet. He was steadying himself, waiting for the light-headedness to pass, when the door swung open, and a witch, dressed immaculately in lime-green robes, strode in.
'Malfoy! What in the world do you think you're doing?!' Granger looked positively McGonagall-like as she gave Draco a disapproving look.
'Standing,' he answered matter-of-factly, the light giddiness in his head not quite departed. Strange, he thought. Now it seemed like there were two Grangers.
'You'll get yourself killed! Do you know how much blood you lost...' Granger planted Draco firmly back down onto the bed.
'Don't touch me with your filthy hands, Mudblood!!' He threw Granger a look of utter loathing. 'And don't think I'll be grateful, Granger.' He looked scathingly at the healer, pale eyes cold and expressionless. 'I know bloody well what you want from me.'
'In case you were wondering, Malfoy, I didn't save your life just so I could help Harry,' She narrowed her eyes. 'I'm merely doing what my job requires, that is, as your healer-in-charge.'
'You?!' Draco sniffed. 'Of all the freaking healers in the hospital I had to get you!'
'Actually, that's because no one else wanted to be your healer-in-charge. Too frightened, I suppose. But they shouldn't be - they'll be sending you to the Ministry soon.'
'Shut up, Mudblood.' His stomach lurched at the thought of what the Ministry would do to him. Worse, what his Father would do to him. 'Think you're so big...you and that Potter...' Draco froze. He felt Granger's cool fingertips as she laid a hand across his forehead.
'Just as I suspected. You're delirious, Malfoy.' Draco looked up. Though far from beautiful, Draco thought, admittedly, that Granger didn't look all that bad, especially up this close. Though she kept her face stern -her mouth pressed in a thin line - the clarity of her dark, intelligent brown eyes caught his breath. The throbbing in his head seemed to subside as he sat still in his bed, all the time staring at Granger. He felt a warm, almost tangible sensation pass though him, something he hadn't felt in such a long time. Something he'd felt when Mother was still around, and even then, quite rarely. It was making him feel rather faint.
Finally, Granger released her hand. She stood up, looking a little flushed, but nevertheless, unruffled. 'Well, I'd better get you some potions, then.'
'No...wait!' Granger whipped round, looking slightly shocked. Wisps of brown hair curled like tendrils down the sides of her face; the rest of her hair was pulled back tight in a ponytail. She looked wary, as though suspicious that Draco was up to something.
'What?'
'I...You...Aren't you sending me to the ministry?'
'Not till you've fully recovered, Malfoy. Now would you sit still?'
Granger walked back with a syringe in one hand and pale-blue potion in another. Her stern gaze softened when she saw Draco, quivering slightly under the pale moonlight. Draco scowled.
'If you think I'm grateful, Granger, you're dead wrong.'
'So you mentioned,' Granger replied icily, lightly puncturing Draco's arm with the syringe. Scowling, Draco turned away from the healer and faced the window instead. He saw that it was drizzling lightly and gazed, with mild fascination, at the tiny, glistening pearls of rainwater gliding down the windowpane.
'Because...you should have just let me die, Granger,' Draco whispered in a barely audible tone. Granger looked up.
'Why?'
/ And why live? Things would be much less complicated if I was dead.
I'm sick of running away, sick of hiding, sick of living with the fact that I'd killed, that blood had stained my robes more than once.
Sick of being treated, by my own Father, like a mere tool. All this while I've respected him, and yearned to receive his acknowledgement. But it never came, not even when I joined him to become a Death Eater myself. But I never gave up. I continued to serve Father, in hopes that he would come to respect and acknowledge me.
My hopes were shattered the moment Harry Potter pointed his wand at me. I've become a bane to Father, nothing but a worthless burden.
If I'd died, I would be less of a burden to Father. Perhaps he'd only acknowledge me then. If I'd died, maybe I could see Mother again...Mother loved me. Oh sure, she didn't show it much, but I could tell.
Mother was the only one who made me feel like a person. Not Draco Malfoy, that rich man's kid. Not Draco Malfoy the prefect, not Draco Malfoy, the powerful Death Eater. She made me feel like I was needed, like there was a reason for my existence.
But she's gone. Been gone for three months now. Does that mean I've lost the reason for my existence?/
'Oh...nothing,' was all Draco said. He leant against the pillow, the dull, throbbing ache returning to his head. This was definitely too much thinking to do in one sitting. 'Leave me alone, Granger. You irk me.'
'I would leave you alone, but I was told to keep a watch on you,' Granger raised an eyebrow. 'Don't want those suicidal tendencies acting up again, do we?'
Draco blinked. There it was again. That strange, warm, bittersweet sensation gliding down his throat and through his body. He liked it; just that it he was rather appalled that Granger was the one making him feel this way.
'But I guess I'll leave, since you find me so irksome,' with that, a very disgruntled looking Granger strode out of the room.
A moment or two passed before Draco staggered towards the window, lifted the pane and peered out, gentle breeze brushing against his face.
Just checking for ravens.
D/Hr forever!!!! Kyaaaaaa~! XP XB X3!!!
Sorry, I'm mad. Jus me and my personal opinion.
*proceeds to owl JK Rowling on why Draco should be with Hermione*
*proceeds to send a Howler if she ignores me*
*muses* I wish I had a nicer sounding summary...any suggestions anyone?
And don't you try and sneak away!! Press that button and review, evil person!