IMPRESSIONS chapter twelve
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, except for stuff you don't recognize.
Summary: An emotionally, physically, and mentally wounded Draco needs someone to help him, whether he wants to admit it or not, after his father lands in Azkaban, his mother is committed to St. Mungo's, and his entire world crumbles. Romance/Angst.
Author's Note: Please review!
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He turned to her. "Well, it got a little worse," he muttered, the black blood standing out starkly to his pale skin.
She gaped at him. "You don't think?"
Draco's stomach was a stomach-churning sight. The last time Hermione had seen the cut, it had been thin and bleeding just a little; now, it was quite open and seemed to have split further apart. The skin around the gash was discolored a murky green, and the black blood dripped freely.
His stomach in general was bruised a dark color, a mix between purple and blue, which Hermione supposed was because of Seamus Finnegan's bludger.
"What were you doing playing Quidditch?" she asked him furiously. "Anyone with just a little common sense would have backed out!"
He stared at her blankly. "I can't back out of Quidditch. And besides," he added with an evil grin, "I beat Potter. With this," he indicated his stomach with a short laugh.
"How did you even fly? And do that feint?" asked Hermione, forgetting her annoyance with him for a second out of sheer curiosity.
He shrugged. "The game was important. And the feint? I had no idea you were impressed with my flying abilities, er – Hermione," he smirked.
Hermione flushed. "I'm not. I just wondered how you even stayed on the broom. Now, what are we going to do? Pomfrey will drag you up there, as soon as she finds you," she said briskly.
Draco turned back to the sink and flicked his wand – which had, miraculously, stayed whole after his fall – at a pile of self-wetting sponges, which started to scrub his stomach immediately.
He winced, and stabled himself against the counter. "I need to rest," he said through gritted teeth as the sponges touched the tender skin. "I can't go up there, Pomfrey would see through an Illusion charm, especially if I was in pain."
"Well, what we need is a painlessness potion," said Hermione decisively. She glanced around the room and saw a few bottles of the draft sitting on a shelf. "Perfect," she said happily, striding over to it and picking out a vial of the potion and a bottle of butterbeer, which was conveniently on the next shelf.
"That won't work," said Draco dully.
"Why not?" Hermione bristled.
"For two reasons. One, Malfoys are inherently impervious to potion-magic, and two, anything that happens to my body as a result of the curse isn't effected by magic," he explained blandly.
She gasped. "What? How have you been dealing with the pain, then?"
"And what, exactly, do you know about the pain?" asked Draco coolly. "I don't seem to remember complaining about it."
"No, of course not, I just assumed…"
"That, being Malfoy, I couldn't handle anything?" he looked angry.
"No! Why must you take everything I say as a direct insult?" asked Hermione furiously. "If you haven't noticed yet, I'm on your side! I'm the one lying to my friends and stealing their things to help you!"
He turned away. "I don't need anyone on my side," he spat.
"Well, I'm too far in now to get off it, so I'm staying," said Hermione firmly. "I'm going to look through some of these books."
"Go ahead," said Malfoy, waving his wand over the bandages, which began to wind themselves around his stomach, hiding the unsightly slash.
"I will," said Hermione, and promptly jerked a stack of books off the bookshelf and opened one up.
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"I think I found something," said Hermione fifteen minutes later. Draco, who had lain down after he finished dressing his cut, glanced up.
"What?"
"It says…" Hermione trailed off, finding the passage again. '"The Permeus Surpos curse is highly advanced Dark Magic, normally used in the place of the Imperius Curse when the latter is ineffective. The curse can be used to keep the victim away from a certain person, or object; it can also be used to force the victim to do a specific thing."'
"I know that," said Draco irritably.
"I'm not finished," said Hermione severely. '"It can only be cast when the caster hates the person whom he is cursing. The easiest way of removal is if the curser lifts the spell; there are, however, other cures," Hermione stopped and looked up towards the blond. "See? I told you there was probably a cure!"
"So what?" Draco muttered sullenly.
Hermione ignored him and continued reading. '"The result of the curse is a gash on the torso, characterized by black blood"-
"That's all it says?" asked Draco incredulously.
Hermione lifted her eyes from the text after scanning for any hint of the cure. "Yes," she said finally. "I'm sorry."
He swore violently. "What am I going to do? I can't play Quidditch like this; I can't go to that stupid mediwitch!"
"Well, maybe Dumbledore"- Hermione offered helpfully.
He got up from the bed, glaring at her. "Dumbledore? Dumbledore? Dumbledore is a fool; he's too sickeningly good to have ever heard of this stupid curse! Much less, know the cure!"
"Dumbledore is not a fool, Draco Malfoy," said Hermione hotly.
"For my purposes, he's just as pointless as you are!"
"I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!" Hermione finally shrieked. "Why can't you just accept help?"
He looked to her, and Hermione thought she saw a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it vanished as soon as it appeared. "Right," he muttered.
"Now, that was only one book. There are still a lot more," said Hermione, breathing harder after her outburst. "Help me, or go to sleep," she instructed.
"Fine," said Draco, walking over to the table where Hermione sat and grabbing few books. He returned to the bed, his forehead shining with sweat that Hermione wouldn't see if he were out of her line of vision.
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"Where were you?" asked Ron snidely when Hermione walked into the common room, two hours after the Quidditch game. The Gryffindors were subdued; it was the first time that they had lost to Slytherin in a good few years.
"In the library," said Hermione dully, just hoping to get upstairs without an argument.
"Harry went to the library to try and find you," said Ron coldly. "You weren't there. Off snogging Malfoy, after you saved him so heroically?" he spat.
Hermione paled. "No," she replied shortly, refusing to let herself be drawn into an argument.
"Harry was looking for you because he lost something," said Ron, his eyes glinting with barely-suppressed anger.
Hermione's heart jumped into her throat. "W-what did he lose?" she managed.
"A certain – trinket – from his father," Ron hissed. "Where did you go, Hermione?"
Hermione's heart was thudding so loudly she thought that Ron could surely hear it. She racked her brains for an idea. "I tried to sneak into McGonagall's office," she said finally. "I was looking for the Time-Turner. I thought that maybe if I went back in time and stopped myself from letting Slytherin win"-
Ron's eyebrows rose. "You're lying," he said simply. "You would never sneak into McGonagall's office."
Hermione's heart sunk, and she turned around sharply as the portrait door opened. It was Harry.
"Hermione, I think you need to tell us the truth," he said tersely, holding the Marauder's Map in his hand limply.
Hermione went even whiter.
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Author's Note: I know, no detention again. Sorry. I got caught up in the heat of the moment. And a cliffhanger. Sorry again. Well, I finally released a bit more about the curse – there is a cure! I know Ron is being a jerk, but I think that he would act this way in the books, so… And I'm trying really hard to make them all in character.
Thanks a bunch to Catmint, for unwavering encouragement and reviews. Also, thanks to Monica (or Monicella) for constantly being my sounding board… Lucidity, thanks for your help with my questions on Schizophrenia. I really appreciate your taking the time to answer my questions. Strega Brava, for your reviews of Impressions and for your review of Consequences. I appreciate them all very much. And I'm sorry I made you blush. J I was being utterly truthful, though. Read her stories, they rock. Thanks to BaNanAbeRRy JaM, for her too-kind review. Hp-Azn, thank you for your contact and personal response to my own review. I appreciate your reviews to my stories. Remorseful Passion, as always, your reviews are awesome (and entertaining) and I enjoy them very much. Reviews do rock. J I just recently read an AWESOME story, My Life As A House Elf. It was excellent; definitely read it if you enjoy unique, clever Hermione/Draco stories. I would recommend the author, but I unfortunately forgot her name. Thanks to everyone else I didn't mention by name; I'm just too tired to go and look you all up, apologies. Ar-Zimraphel