All I need to get by

Chapter Four: Tangled Spells

Hermione Granger was staring out of her window when Draco Malfoy finally plucked up enough courage to apologise to her. The London street below was filled with Saturday morning shoppers, all toting large bags around behind them. They spared little time for the dusty old store which presented a front for St Mungo's Hospital, passing across to the large Marks&Spencers opposite to buy whatever they needed to survive in a world without magic. Her eyes were glassy and blank, and the bed was propping her up almost vertically. Her hair was brushed and plaited by one of the nurses with the aid of magic. Her own wands still lay on the bedside table.

'Granger?'

She turned towards him slowly, and for the first time he appreciated how much effort it took for her to move – every muscle in her body was momentarily tense and rippled beneath the surface of her skin. The movements were not fluid as usual, but disjointed, and her tongue was clenched beneath her front teeth. She raised an eyebrow at him in question.

'I've been an utter prat,' he began, lodging himself against the edge of the doorpost, 'I know that. I apologize.'

There was complete silence in the room for a while, and then Granger's face realxed into a kind of half smile. Draco awkwardly smirked back at her.

'You could make it up to me,' she suggested quietly, so that he had to move forward into the room to hear her properly, 'Please stop being so tense and anxious. I can sense it.'

She followed this statement with another small smile, encouraging this time. Draco nodded in understanding and moved closer until he was sitting on the end of her bed. Her hands lay limp by her side, finger tips gently tinged with blue, every tendon and muscle could be seen beneath the skin. He frowned at them, and took the right one in his hands, examining it while she watched him.

'Can you still not move them?' he asked suddenly, bending one finger back.

'No.'

He began to run his cool fingers over her hands, up and down her fingers in soothing circles, dipping down to her wrist and then massaging the palm. All the while Hermione watched in a kind of detatched interest, afraid to say anything in case it shattered the calm acceptance in the room.

'They don't hurt or anything though,' she assured him softly, 'Just hang there as if I had no bones.'

'I have to confess,' he said at last, 'I am not entirely sure what is wrong with them. The only thing I can think of is the Shahib's curse.'

'You'll work it out.'

There was silence again as Draco felt a curious sort of molten liquid spiral up from his stomach into his chest, and Hermione smiled at him.

She looked distinctly lethargic, noted Healer Malfoy some weeks later. Hermione had once again been moved, with the aid of magic and a nurse, to the chaise lounge which lay be the large window. Every movement was an effort, and the movement from the bed to the chaise could take up her energy for half a day. Her muscles were taunt beneath her skin as she breathed deeply and shifted a little. Her skin was milky pale, with a slight blue tinge. Exhausted lines became carved into her skin around her red-rimmed eyes and temples. The books she read, and the newspapers and magazines, were less prone to the pages being turned as she gazed into the distance.

She was convinced that he would find a cure for her – she trusted him because she had no others to trust with her life. Potter and Weasley arrived almost every other day and animated her, but the Healer heard her crying into her pillows after these visits. Those who had saved her before couldn't save her this time she knew, no matter how much they assured her that they were researching spells and charms in their free time. Unspeakables dressed in black robes visited her and talked of missions and operations – how much they missed her, how even the Head was becoming fidgety closer to operations without his top Unspeakable. She laughed and let them hold her close to them.

'Hello Draco,' she said at last, not looking up from the window,

'Severus has arrived,' Draco swallowed his nervousness, 'He thinks he's found something.'

She looked around so suddenly that her neck muscles groaned in protet and the bones clicked against each other. Her eyes brightened and a smile formed on her lipes almost instantly. Severus Snape loomed into the room in a most menacing manner, which, apparantly, Hermione found rather amusing and had to stifle her laughter on a purple silk cushion which Ginny Potter had brought for her yesterday. In a small box padded with cotton wool and unbreakable charms lay a tiny vial of aubergine coloured liquid that shimmered like blood.

'What's actually in it?' asked Draco rather suspicously.

'I used all of your notes and theories. Actually it's your potion, all I did was make it.'

There was no contribution to the conversation from Hermione. Her eyes were fluttering desperately as her fingers stroked the smooth glass, warm beneath her digits. Draco glanced at her in concern, his stomach lining unpeeling itself from his insides and twisting itself into dozens of tiny knots that made him want to choke. Severus watched her in silent contemplation, and then bent down next to the chaise, eyes darkening in concern.

'There's something wrong, Draco,' he said at last, 'She needs your barthar, your healing magic.'

Draco didn't hesitate for longer than thirty seconds. He dropped to his knees by the silk chaise and placed his cold hands on her neck, fingers neatly arranged around her lower face. Her head dropped back onto the silken cushions as she choked on tears. His fingers pressed into her skin and moved, rotating slightly in a soothing manner. Underneath his digits the skin went white and spread in neat areas like paint across her neck. She was gasping and sobbing by the time he whispered her name and the flesh began to cool.

'Hermione,' he whispered softly, and the magic began flowing out of him in great waves, 'Hermione? Come on Hermione, please.'

Quite suddenly she went limp under his hands and fell back to the chaise, one arm falling off it to trail down Draco's chest and onto the floor. Every muscle relaxed as she slept deeply, soothed and comforted by his voice, relaxed by his magic. Draco sat down on the cold floor and dropped backwards in exhaustion.

Draco barely noticed when Severus carried Hermione across to the bed and laid her down on it, but he noticed when Severus bent down to haul him to his feet, and with the aid of his godfather stood upright. His chest was constricting painfully, icy fingers clutching at his heart, his magic weakened, but fast replenishing. Even as he stood magic flooded back into his body.

'Draco,' came a weak moan from behind them, and Draco turned.

Hermione's eyes were open, unsteadily flickering eyelids from under which dark eyes watched him. He took a few steady steps towards her until he was looming over her.

'I told you you'd cure me…the potion…thank you,' she forced the words out and collapsed into sleep again, her breathing shallow, a smile tugging at her lips.

Draco stood and watched her for a moment, and then ran his fingers across her forehead to move the stray brown curls that lay there. Fluidly, seeming to forget his godfather who had left the room some seconds previously, he bent down and pressed his rose lips to her skin just above her nose. He didn't smile, because it wasn't something he often did, but his throat constricted with sudden dry tears.

He left the room silently, left hand in the pocket of his red healer robes, and found Severus waiting for him. The older man offered him a gentle smirk, and they walked in silence towards the office.

The next day Hermione was fed the potion.

Five days later she was released from St Mungo's.

To Be Continued

My talking Slot:

Arbitrary:- Thankyou so much!Well, here's 'more'

MadAboutHarry:- I'm sure Ron thought having his head extinguished was nothing. And Snape had to talk some kind-of-sense into Draco, but you're right, not much happened. I don't like to rush things. You owe me a chcocolate frog for getting this up so soon!

regina-terrae:- Mischevious perhaps? Thankyou! Right, basically she was injured in the Voldemort Wars and he saved her life. You know you sent me like 4 reviews? That was cool. But I thought he would be a Healer because I just couldn't see him running around or anything like that. I thought if he was a Healer he could just walk in a brisk manner, and get to wear red!

Tracy3:- Does that mean you like it? Thanks!

Athena Linborn:- Oh, I don't mind being told you like my story twice! Here's you asap update!

Next chapter is really seriously long (for me) and another Slytherin pops up. Guess who?

Anyway, this chapter D apologises (did you note he didn't actually say sorry?) and H accepts graciously. Her hands are still completely lifeless, but she makes D all warm and fuzzy (in a Slytherin kind of way) by telling him she trusts him. How mature. Snape turns up again with a vial that will replenish her magical strength, and Hermione lapses into almost-death. D uses his barthar, which is a kind of healing magic which only has limited use, and only works if there is a patient/healer bond of any kind (e.g. Harry could use it on Ron, and Ron could use it on Neville Longbottom – it doesn't have to be love) and brings her back form the endge of death. Strong bond this signifies (just been watching Yoda), and we H is dismissed.

ATTENTION PLEASE I know a lot of you will be thinking that is a very auspicous ending, but basically it was through Draco, and he's upset and angry, and doesn't want to think about it, which is why it's really odd. She's just walked out of his life, so I reflected that by just walking out of the chapter. IT ISN'T THE END!