No Tomorrow
Chapter 3: Chicken Noodles
Draco washed the remainder of his dishes and put them out to dry. He had the evening shift off, for the first time in nearly 3 weeks, and he was relieved to be able to go home to his small but humble flat in downtown London. Merely a 2 room apartment, it was just big enough for him and his cat Pop-tart, named after his favorite muggle food.
His mind kept drifting back to Hermione. Laying in her room, not eating, not drinking, not talking. He wondered how anyone could live like she was. He wouldn't even call it living, just a mere existence. She was a shell with nothing inside.
Draco remembered when Harry died. They never got along, even in their final few months of Hogwarts. Right before he and Hermione were due to leave for the weekend, they were involved in an altercation, and Draco shouted to him he would never amount to anything in this world as long as he was around. Harry merely threw a curse at him that causes searing but bearable pain in his head. Madame Pomfrey's cure all elixir cured him of the incantation. When he had found out that Harry had perished in the ocean's waters, Draco was hit with a wave of guilt, followed by emptiness. He had always threatened Harry that he'd kill him one day, but he never really expected him to actually die.
He pushed the thoughts back into the deepest parts of his mind. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number to St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward.
"St. Mungo's this is Pattie how my I direct your call?" answered the receptionist.
"I was wondering if there was some one there who could tell me the status of Hermione Granger. This is Nurse Malfoy from the ER."
"One moment, Nurse." She put him on hold and cheesy music came on over the phone. He drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter and waited for the receptionist to return to the phone.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger's doctors have given strict orders to only allow her immediate doctors and family to know her condition." The receptionist promptly hung up on him, and Draco mumbled as he slammed the phone onto the receiver. He looked down at his watch, and it was only 8:30 PM. St. Mungo's allowed for extended visiting hours on Saturday's, until 10:00 PM. Draco's mind raced, knowing that he only had a limited amount of time to see her.
Quickly going to his cabinet, Draco pulled out his mother's cook book, and found the recipe for her famous chicken noodle soup. He assembled the ingredients, which he was thankful that he had, and began making the soup. He remembered every time he felt ill the soothing broth made him feel so much better, relaxed him into a fitful rest. There was a special Muggle ingredient that she had used each time, giving it that extra kick of flavor. Every time he smelled her soup simmering in the Malfoy home, his thoughts would immediately turn to the times his mother took care of him.
Hoping that maybe he could get through to her with the soup, Draco raced the hospital, which was luckily a mere 5 blocks away, and raced towards the psychiatric unit. Once he reached the proper floor, he sneakily slipped by the receptionist's desk and walked straight to Hermione's room. He peered through the window and saw that she was awake, but unmoving.
Draco walked in with a small amount of bravado, the sudden noise of the door opening causing Hermione to turn her head.
"I thought that maybe you might be hungry, and I know that the hospital food here is a joke, so I brought you some of my mother's famous chicken noodle soup. It always made me feel better when I was a kid, always made me fall asleep, and I thought you might like to have something tasty for a change...only if you want it though."
Hermione didn't turn away, giving Draco the sign that it was okay for him to approach. He walked slowly over towards her, watching her eyes and her body for any sign of movement. He grabbed the rolling chair and sat down, opening the plastic container of soup.
"My mother was famous in the neighborhood for her cooking. She gave me a book of her recipe's just before I moved out, in hopes that I would use them one day." Draco produced a plastic spoon from his coat pocket and dipped it into the soup.
"Alright now..." he said hesitantly. "Here comes the air plane...maybe?" Hermione's eyes widened just slightly as Draco brought the spoon to just under her nose. The succulent smell of pepper, noodles and broth was too much to resist, and Hermione allowed herself to open her mouth and take a spoonful of the soup. It was the best thing she had tasted in months.
"See, it's not so bad. Certainly better than the food here, especially the Jell-O."
"The Jell-O tastes like raw cabbage..." Hermione whispered after being fed a few more spoonfuls of soup.
Draco nearly dropped the spoon in astonishment when she spoke. He looked at her, her eyes looking pleadingly at the soup bowl. Her stomach growled in hunger, and Draco quietly fed her the rest of his mother's soup, which she nearly inhaled, but graciously. All the while Draco couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief that he had at least helped her in some way, even if it was the only time that she would let him in.
"It's almost time for me to leave. I have a 36 hour shift starting tomorrow, so if you want me to I'll come back and visit, maybe bring you back some more soup?"
Hermione slightly nodded as Draco took the soup bowl and stood up.
"Get some rest, Hermione; I'll be back when I can." Draco walked out of the room, overwhelmed with a sense of relief.
Back in her room, a single tear slipped down Hermione's cheek. She was filled with such emotion. A part of her was confused; Draco Malfoy, her mortal enemy, had suddenly turned into a kind, compassionate nurse and brought her soup. A part of her was grateful that Draco was not trying to pry into her, telling her what was wrong with her or what she needed to do in order to get out of the hospital. And a part of her felt guilty for enjoying the company the Draco provided. She knew Harry would probably never approve, but he wasn't here anymore. And if he were she wouldn't be where she was today. She had no idea how to handle the situation, but she'd be damned if she told her parents or the doctors or the nurses. They really pissed her off; always telling her to eat the hospital shit she was provided, emphasizing the fact that she had been there for 8 months, that she was being fed through and IV tube when she wouldn't eat, that she had no hope of recovery, she was sick of it. But she didn't want to leave. She didn't want to face the outside world; they would all judge her for her pathetic attempt at life. She could just imagine the gossip. Hermione Granger, once Valedictorian hopeful top notch witch at Hogwarts reduced to a hospital bed and an ID bracelet. She could barely face herself, let alone the entire world. No, she most definitely felt safer here, regardless of whether or not she liked it.
Chapter 3: Chicken Noodles
Draco washed the remainder of his dishes and put them out to dry. He had the evening shift off, for the first time in nearly 3 weeks, and he was relieved to be able to go home to his small but humble flat in downtown London. Merely a 2 room apartment, it was just big enough for him and his cat Pop-tart, named after his favorite muggle food.
His mind kept drifting back to Hermione. Laying in her room, not eating, not drinking, not talking. He wondered how anyone could live like she was. He wouldn't even call it living, just a mere existence. She was a shell with nothing inside.
Draco remembered when Harry died. They never got along, even in their final few months of Hogwarts. Right before he and Hermione were due to leave for the weekend, they were involved in an altercation, and Draco shouted to him he would never amount to anything in this world as long as he was around. Harry merely threw a curse at him that causes searing but bearable pain in his head. Madame Pomfrey's cure all elixir cured him of the incantation. When he had found out that Harry had perished in the ocean's waters, Draco was hit with a wave of guilt, followed by emptiness. He had always threatened Harry that he'd kill him one day, but he never really expected him to actually die.
He pushed the thoughts back into the deepest parts of his mind. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number to St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward.
"St. Mungo's this is Pattie how my I direct your call?" answered the receptionist.
"I was wondering if there was some one there who could tell me the status of Hermione Granger. This is Nurse Malfoy from the ER."
"One moment, Nurse." She put him on hold and cheesy music came on over the phone. He drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter and waited for the receptionist to return to the phone.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger's doctors have given strict orders to only allow her immediate doctors and family to know her condition." The receptionist promptly hung up on him, and Draco mumbled as he slammed the phone onto the receiver. He looked down at his watch, and it was only 8:30 PM. St. Mungo's allowed for extended visiting hours on Saturday's, until 10:00 PM. Draco's mind raced, knowing that he only had a limited amount of time to see her.
Quickly going to his cabinet, Draco pulled out his mother's cook book, and found the recipe for her famous chicken noodle soup. He assembled the ingredients, which he was thankful that he had, and began making the soup. He remembered every time he felt ill the soothing broth made him feel so much better, relaxed him into a fitful rest. There was a special Muggle ingredient that she had used each time, giving it that extra kick of flavor. Every time he smelled her soup simmering in the Malfoy home, his thoughts would immediately turn to the times his mother took care of him.
Hoping that maybe he could get through to her with the soup, Draco raced the hospital, which was luckily a mere 5 blocks away, and raced towards the psychiatric unit. Once he reached the proper floor, he sneakily slipped by the receptionist's desk and walked straight to Hermione's room. He peered through the window and saw that she was awake, but unmoving.
Draco walked in with a small amount of bravado, the sudden noise of the door opening causing Hermione to turn her head.
"I thought that maybe you might be hungry, and I know that the hospital food here is a joke, so I brought you some of my mother's famous chicken noodle soup. It always made me feel better when I was a kid, always made me fall asleep, and I thought you might like to have something tasty for a change...only if you want it though."
Hermione didn't turn away, giving Draco the sign that it was okay for him to approach. He walked slowly over towards her, watching her eyes and her body for any sign of movement. He grabbed the rolling chair and sat down, opening the plastic container of soup.
"My mother was famous in the neighborhood for her cooking. She gave me a book of her recipe's just before I moved out, in hopes that I would use them one day." Draco produced a plastic spoon from his coat pocket and dipped it into the soup.
"Alright now..." he said hesitantly. "Here comes the air plane...maybe?" Hermione's eyes widened just slightly as Draco brought the spoon to just under her nose. The succulent smell of pepper, noodles and broth was too much to resist, and Hermione allowed herself to open her mouth and take a spoonful of the soup. It was the best thing she had tasted in months.
"See, it's not so bad. Certainly better than the food here, especially the Jell-O."
"The Jell-O tastes like raw cabbage..." Hermione whispered after being fed a few more spoonfuls of soup.
Draco nearly dropped the spoon in astonishment when she spoke. He looked at her, her eyes looking pleadingly at the soup bowl. Her stomach growled in hunger, and Draco quietly fed her the rest of his mother's soup, which she nearly inhaled, but graciously. All the while Draco couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief that he had at least helped her in some way, even if it was the only time that she would let him in.
"It's almost time for me to leave. I have a 36 hour shift starting tomorrow, so if you want me to I'll come back and visit, maybe bring you back some more soup?"
Hermione slightly nodded as Draco took the soup bowl and stood up.
"Get some rest, Hermione; I'll be back when I can." Draco walked out of the room, overwhelmed with a sense of relief.
Back in her room, a single tear slipped down Hermione's cheek. She was filled with such emotion. A part of her was confused; Draco Malfoy, her mortal enemy, had suddenly turned into a kind, compassionate nurse and brought her soup. A part of her was grateful that Draco was not trying to pry into her, telling her what was wrong with her or what she needed to do in order to get out of the hospital. And a part of her felt guilty for enjoying the company the Draco provided. She knew Harry would probably never approve, but he wasn't here anymore. And if he were she wouldn't be where she was today. She had no idea how to handle the situation, but she'd be damned if she told her parents or the doctors or the nurses. They really pissed her off; always telling her to eat the hospital shit she was provided, emphasizing the fact that she had been there for 8 months, that she was being fed through and IV tube when she wouldn't eat, that she had no hope of recovery, she was sick of it. But she didn't want to leave. She didn't want to face the outside world; they would all judge her for her pathetic attempt at life. She could just imagine the gossip. Hermione Granger, once Valedictorian hopeful top notch witch at Hogwarts reduced to a hospital bed and an ID bracelet. She could barely face herself, let alone the entire world. No, she most definitely felt safer here, regardless of whether or not she liked it.