IMPRESSIONS chapter twenty-nine
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! THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS!!!
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"I can't! My wand, it's gone!" said Lucius, standing and looking about himself wildly.
"Excuse me?" Draco hissed.
'"The Permeus Surpos is a curse that can only be lifted by the wand that cast the curse!'" Lucius said, as though reciting from a book. "And my wand was snapped!"
~::~
"Come now, Mr. Malfoy, would you like me to levitate you to the Hospital Wing?" Dumbledore offered, frowning as Draco clutched his stomach impulsively.
"I'm fine," said Draco tersely, straightening. "How soon will I be able to return home?"
"What do you mean, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore gravely.
"Well, that was my last chance, Dumbledore," said Draco dully. "I should go home to set my affairs in order. Should probably appoint an heir to the Malfoy name as well."
"Nonsense, Mr. Malfoy. It was not your last chance. While… It is certainly one less option, you still have another," said Dumbledore as they walked up a flight of stairs.
"If you're referring to Hermione"—
"Indeed I am," Dumbledore conceded.
--"that's a lost cause."
"Nothing is ever a lost cause, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore sadly. "It only becomes lost when one decides it is so."
"Well, I've decided, all right? All of this 'there's no reason to believe it's over' stuff is really wearing on me. If I can accept it, why can't anyone else?" Draco snapped, halting on their ascent of the castle.
Dumbledore sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, one should never accept their death prematurely."
"It's not premature!" Draco fumed. "I've got a bloody month!"
"Don't give up," Dumbledore advised, refusing to let the Slytherin have the last word. "Never give up."
Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them when they reached the Hospital Wing, and a right state she was in too. "Professor Dumbledore, I admit you have a certain hold over the students, but to take a child to Azkaban, sir—I simply cannot allow that!" she shrieked as soon as they entered the room.
"I'm not a child," Draco muttered sullenly as Madam Pomfrey stripped him of the extra cloak he'd worn under the one he had given to Hermione.
"Into bed with you, you disobedient boy!" Madam Pomfrey ordered. She rounded on Dumbledore again. "Headmaster, I simply cannot let you do this! He is in a delicate state, any stress and the gash could destroy him!"
"Poppy, I am very aware of his limitations," said Dumbledore. "We had an appointment with one Lucius Malfoy."
The mediwitch paled. "His father?"
"Indeed. There was a chance that the curse could be lifted. Obviously, it was not," said Dumbledore heavily.
"Poor boy…" said Pomfrey sadly. "He oughtn't be going through this. He's just a child, for Merlin's sake," she said pityingly.
"Have you seen Miss Granger, Poppy?" Dumbledore inquired, taking a new direction.
"I'm right here, Professor. I was on my way to the library—I saw you and Draco come in," said a new voice. The mediwitch and Dumbledore turned to see a rather pale Hermione Granger, clutching a few books to her chest. "Did it work?" she asked hopefully.
Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. Apparently, the countercurse can only be performed by the wand that cast the spell in the first place," said Dumbledore sorrowfully.
Hermione bit her lip. "May I see him?" she asked timidly.
"Of course," said Dumbledore graciously, ignoring the pointed stares the nurse was shooting him.
"Thank you," Hermione mumbled, entering the Hospital Wing. Pomfrey raised an eyebrow when she saw that the girl wore a cloak with the Slytherin crest, but she chose not to say anything.
~::~
"Draco?" Hermione whispered, walking into the blond Slytherin's separate room to see him standing, un-shirted, in front of a mirror. A white bandage covered his torso. He jerked at the sound of her voice.
"How was Hogsmeade?" he questioned, turning to see her. His face was strained.
"I left after Dumbledore took you to Azkaban," said Hermione, averting her eyes from him.
"I guess Dumbledore told you it didn't work," said Draco bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "I want to go home, but he says I should 'hold out hope.'"
"Well, you should!" Hermione blurted out before turning very red.
Instead of giving her his normal cutting, arrogant remark, Draco sighed, and Hermione's heart broke. "Why should I?" he asked heavily, leaning against a wall.
"Nothing's ever for certain," Hermione managed, immensely embarrassed with herself. "I just meant…"
"You were trying to comfort me, right?" he spat. "Only they were empty words."
Hermione said nothing. "Look, Draco…"
"Why don't you leave, okay? Go spend some time with the Weasel," Draco said, shrugging on a tee shirt and turning his back to her.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears that he couldn't see. "But I don't want to be with Ron."
"Then what do you want? You want to see me waste away, and know that you could prevent it?" he roared, spinning around.
"No, that's the last thing I want, okay? I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I can't help you!" Hermione cried. "Look, I just want to spend some time with you, if that's okay," she said, composing herself after she realized that her outburst had caused him to wince.
"What for?" he snapped.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, you're my only friend at the moment. The whole of Gryffindor hates me, as do my two best friends of five years. I need someone to talk to."
"What about that little Weasley? Jeanie, whatever her name is?" Draco asked idly, sitting down on the bed and rubbing his eyes.
"It's 'Ginny,' and since I dumped her brother for his worst enemy today, I'd say she's not quite pleased with me at the moment," said Hermione dryly, trying to make the best of her situation.
Draco was silent for a minute. "All right, then," he said finally. "What do you want to talk about?"
Hermione gaped at him for a second, and then beamed. "Did you know that I've never spoken to you when we weren't talking about the curse—or Quidditch, or your health, or anything?"
He smirked. "Makes you wonder about our 'friendship,' doesn't it?" he said.
Hermione laughed slightly. "I suppose so."
"So… When is your birthday?" he offered, leaning back into the pillow.
Hermione's eyes widened. "What?"
"You said you wanted to talk," he responded testily.
"Oh, right," said Hermione, flushing. "The nineteenth of September."
He raised his eyebrows. "Happy birthday, then. What'd you get?"
"Oh, well, my parents just gave me money, see, they don't know how to use owls, and they're a bit scared of them, anyway," Hermione managed a nervous laugh. "So I got some really nice quills when we went to Diagon Alley this summer."
"Quills?"
Hermione smiled. "Well, it's my parents, you know… They're so fascinated. They think that quills break constantly, because all they've seen are Muggle ones, they don't know that we've got charms to make them durable. So, they buy me quills constantly."
"So… Other than quills for your sweet sixteen, what'd you get?" Draco asked, keeping his face neutral.
"Well…" Hermione thought for a moment. "Books, really."
"Your friends gave you books on your sixteenth birthday?" Draco snorted.
"Well, they all figure that they're what I want," Hermione defended them. "I mean, it's the thought that counts, right?"
"So, you admit that you'd rather something else for your birthday?" said Draco wickedly.
"Enough. When is your birthday?" asked Hermione, removing her wnad from her pocket and conjuring a comfy armchair to sit in.
"January first," said Draco promptly. "Turning seventeen, you know," he added. "Going to be a legal adult… Can't wait to get my hands on that money…" his eyes misted over.
"You're going to be seventeen?" asked Hermione in disbelief. "That makes you older than just about everyone!"
"Yep," said Draco nonchalantly. "Think my parents planned it that way, actually. Malfoys always have to have superiority, one way or another, right?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you like your parents?"
He frowned. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh, I don't know, because your father is trying to kill you?" Hermione suggested sarcastically.
"He isn't. He didn't know it could kill me," said Draco coolly.
"Oh."
There was awkward silence for a few moments. "So, what's new?" asked Draco.
Hermione burst out laughing. "What?"
He shrugged. "I always hear people say that. Bit stupid, isn't it, when we all go to boarding school and see each other pretty much all day."
"I'm not laughing at that"—Hermione began, her eyes watering—"it's just that it sounded so funny from you."
"Of course," he said wryly. "It's bound to sound funny coming from me."
"That's not what I meant," Hermione protested. "It's just—we've actually had a conversation and managed not to hurt each other."
"Why does that surprise you? As I recall, we've never hurt each other in a conversation," said Draco, reaching for his wand and flicking it, conjuring two glasses of pumpkin juice. "Thirsty?"
Hermione stared at the glass he was offering her dubiously for a moment. "How'd you specify pumpkin juice?" she inquired, furrowing her eyebrows.
HE shrugged. "I don't know. That's just what I wanted."
"I see. Thanks," said Hermione, accepting the glass and taking an experimental sip.
"So. Why are Weasel and Scarhead mad at you now?" asked Draco conversationally.
Hermione sighed. "Isn't it obvious? Ron's mad because I went off with you and Harry's mad because he hates you."
"But wasn't Ron being a prat?"
"Well, yes, but he still thinks I dumped him to chase after you," said Hermione, rubbing her eyes.
"I can only imagine the looks on their faces if you actually did cure me," said Draco dreamily, folding his arms behind his head and leaning into the pillow.
Hermione flushed and slapped his arm. "Draco…" she said warningly.
He straightened. "Okay, they're mad at you because they think you've got a thing for their worst enemy," he clarified, breaking into a smirk. "Are you so sure that you don't…?"
She went even redder. "Look, I'm actually trying to talk, here, and you're"—
"Being a complete prat, I know, I get it," he said, rolling his eyes. "Sorry if I'm not exactly the confidante type."
"What exactly happened today, anyway?" asked Hermione softly.
His eyes hardened. "Well, we went in to see dear old dad, he asked me about money, I asked him about the curse, he can't lift it. Pretty basic, actually. Only took half an hour."
"Then why were you gone for so long?" asked Hermione in a small voice.
He shrugged. "We had to go through a lot of stuff to actually get to him, and then they wanted to know what we wanted to talk to him for. Dumbledore insisted on letting me rest, too," he scowled.
"Oh, I see," said Hermione sympathetically.
He yawned, and jumped when Madam Pomfrey rushed into the room. "Time for you to go, Miss Granger," she said. "Dumbledore insisted you be left alone, but we all know his judgment's been lacking…" she sniffed. "Mr. Malfoy, you need to get rest… Miss Granger, didn't I tell you to leave?" She turned, hands on hips.
"Erm… Draco?" Hermione asked timidly.
"What?" he asked, touching his stomach gingerly.
"Is it all right—I mean, if you don't mind"—Hermione began awkwardly.
"Spit it out," said Draco, annoyed.
"Is it all right if I come visit you some more?" Hermione burst out.
He looked mildly surprised at her. After a minute, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's fine."
Hermione flushed. "Right, then, see you later," she said, collecting the books she'd brought in and positively fleeing from the room.
"Your girlfriend seems awfully shy," Madam Pomfrey said absently as she bustled around Draco's bedspread.
"She's not my girlfriend," Draco snapped.
"Of course not, dear."
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Author's Note: I'm dreadfully sorry about the wait; I had about the worst bout of writer's block I've ever had. I'm sorry, this is short, too—same reason. Because of this unexpected setback, you may expect Chapter 30 quite a bit later, but expect it to be considerably longer than this. THANK YOU FOR 600 REVIEWS!!!
NOTICES:
I got the impression that some of you were confused about last chapter's happenings, so I thought I would clear it up.
¨ Lucius was shocked/in disbelief that his son was going to die, so he reacted hysterically, because it was kind of an irony.
¨ Lucius' wand was snapped, and it cannot be put back together. If wands could, why would Hagrid have left his broken? And why would Ron have had to get a new one?
¨ I included as much description of Azkaban as I did because I wanted you all to see what I saw when I envisioned the scene. I wanted it to be the same for everyone. Plus, if I hadn't done any description, you lot would have gotten confused when I was talking about tapping on doors and obsidian gates and such. Besides that, it's always good to include description of the setting, regardless of whether you're going to return to the place or not. For example, J. K. Rowling begins each book with a description of Harry's room. We don't need to know what it looks like; she does it so we see everything as she does.
¨ Also, someone commented that it was unlikely that Azkaban would have marble floors in the Lobby. Why not? Family members would not want to come to Azkaban and be grossed out by the conditions. It's inhumane. Besides that, I did put in a description of where the guards/Aurors took breaks, and it was sufficiently non/marble. I only decided to have marble be included because it is in nearly every important wizarding institution lobby; the Atrium, Gringotts, St. Mungo's. I figured the Azkaban lobby would be no different.
¨ Some people also commented that Draco's relationship with his father was unrealistic. Well, we don't really know what the 'realistic' relationship is; J. K. Rowling hasn't included any substantial Lucius/Draco moments in the books. The only one with dialogue is in CoS, in Flourish and Blotts, and even then, it is limited to just a few lines. Therefore, we cannot accurately interpret the relationship. I, for one, do not believe that Lucius would resort to 'whipping and abusing' Draco. Just because he's a Death Eater doesn't mean he doesn't love his son. Of course, I do believe that Lucius is a somewhat cold-hearted individual who doesn't take kindly to displays of affection and such. Also, someone felt that Lucius had lost his 'calm and collectedness' when he found out about Draco's pending death. This is because he just realized that his doings would kill his son and only heir. This would freak out any dad, wouldn't you say?
¨ For the purpose of my plot, I had to have Draco find out about the curse, and I'll tell you lot why, if it isn't obvious. It was part of my plan to have Hermione become temporarily deterred from her duty, and the only way I thought she would do that would be for Draco to be a prat. Because of his personality, I figured that the fact that a girl had to fall in love with him in order to save his life would appeal immensely to his arrogance and ego, thereby making him act priggish about the whole affair. I could have had the story take another direction, but this was where I wanted it to go, this was where my muse led me.
¨ I apologize for this chapter's lateness in coming, as well as its shorter length than most of the others. I had a rather severe case of writer's block, and I really had to force myself to write this. As such, the likelihood that this will be completed by 25 April 2004 is very slim.
I hope this clears up some questions.
Ar-Zimraphel