Chapter 3
Hermione rushed to the infirmary, hoping to talk more to Draco, to tell him it really was her fault. However, when she reached the infirmary door, she heard voices from within, one's that made a shiver travel down her spine. She stopped, and hid in the shadows, hoping no one would notice her behind the door.
"Draco, you were hurt doing potions," a female voice came, high pitched and cold. "I can't believe you would injure yourself like this doing something you are really quite good at."
"Mum," Malfoy sighed. "It was my fault, I messed up. That's all. I'll be fine."
"But your beautiful face," his mother squealed unhappily. "Look at it. It's so ugly now."
Malfoy sighed. "I know."
Someone was now addressing Madame Pomfrey. "You had better get his face back to the way it was before hand. It's all this stupid school's fault!" It was the infamous Lucius Malfoy, Draco's evil and malicious father.
"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey said angrily. "We are doing the best we can. There are other students who are injured as well; I cannot focus my attentions solely on your son. You will have to be patient."
"This is unforgivable," Mrs. Malfoy snapped, her voice taut with false grief. "I will be taking Draco from here within the week if you do not come up with a solution to this problem."
"No, Mum!" Draco said desperately. "I don't want to leave!"
"Shut up," his father hissed. "You'll be going to Durmstrang if you don't shape up now." Draco fell silent. Hermione ran down the hall, but could not get Draco's words out of her mind.
The library was silent, save for the librarian, who was huddled over a book in the far corner. She immediately headed for the medicinal potions section, and began sifting through Hogwarts large collection.
Around mid-night she found what she was looking for. She checked it out, for the librarian was long gone, and crept up to the dormitory. She'd show Madame Pomfrey in the morning.
Hermione skipped breakfast, and hurried to the infirmary. Draco was still asleep, but Madame Pomfrey was bustling around as usual, doing her morning check ups. She was examining a girl who had somehow gotten three heads, when Hermione walked up.
"I found a potion which might help Malfoy," Hermione said eagerly, opening the book to the marked page. "See, augmen callum. It regrows skin."
"My, my," Madame Pomfrey said with interest, taking the book from Hermione's arms. "That would do the trick. Thank you very much Hermione. I had best keep this book. Would you like to go tell Draco the good news?"
Hermione nodded, and ran over to the bed where Draco lay sleeping. As soon as she was standing over him, his crystal blue eyes opened and he looked up at her in surprise.
"Guess what! I found a potion that will help your skin grow back. It won't look exactly the same, but you'll still be just as handsome-" she stopped abruptly and flushed red.
"You think I'm handsome?" he asked in surprise.
"Well everyone does," she replied, very flustered. "Anyway, I have class. See you tomorrow." She fled the infirmary, cursing herself as she ran to History of Magic.
Harry must have sensed her humiliation, and wisely said nothing, but Ron, the ever insensitive, remarked about her silence.
"Normally Hermione, we can't get you to shut-up," he said with a laugh. "Today we can't get you to say a word."
"Word," she said irritably. Harry grinned and Ron rolled his eyes.
"Hermione, you can do better than that."
"Go away," she snapped.
"That's better," Ron charged ahead, oblivious to her growing fury. "Now, can you give me a full sentence?" Hermione clenched her hands, and stormed off to her dorm. Harry stroked Ron's hand.
"You probably shouldn't have bothered her," he said with a slight shrug. "She isn't in a very good mood."
"How am I supposed to know what the fuck her problem is?" Ron asked, running his hand through his bright red hair.
Hermione ran up the stairs fuming. She slammed the dorm door behind her, and instantly felt contrite. It wasn't Ron's fault she was so grumpy and tired. At least she had found the potion, she could only hope it would work…
When Hermione arrived at the infirmary the next day, Draco was sitting up and looking much better. Madame Pomfrey was handing him a rather vile looking potion, and motioning for him to drink it.
"This should work," she told Hermione, watching Malfoy with a critical eye. He hastily swallowed it, and if he had had any of his pale skin left, Hermione was sure he would have turned green. Instead, he lay down, and stared at her.
"I wanted," he paused as if in pain. "To say thank-you."
"For what?" Hermione asked, completely baffled. Madame Pomfrey bustled away, and they watched her go.
"For," he stopped again. "You know. Finding the potion. Even if doesn't work, it was nice of you to spend time looking for it."
"It was nothing," Hermione replied, thinking of her long search in the library. He must have noticed the bags under her eyes, because he shook his head.
"No, Hermione," he said, his lips turning up in the corners, the faint vestiges of a smile. "You must have spent ages looking for a potion to help your worst enemy get better? Tell me you are regretting it now."
"Why would I regret helping someone?" she asked. "Even if they are one of my worst enemies?"
"That is where you and I differ."
As Hermione left, she suddenly realized that he had called her by her first name, instead of his usual 'mud-blood,' or 'Granger.' She shook her head, realizing that it was a simple slip of the tongue.
Harry and Ron were blissfully quiet about the whole Potions situation, though many blamed her.
Pansy Parkinson had tripped her more than once in the hall during the last week, and the whole 'mud-blood' sayings had increased twice-fold.
Malfoy's fan-club glared at her as she passed, muttering things about how she had injured their 'prince.'
It seemed nothing could get worse when it turned out that the potion wasn't working as well as it should.
The black, charred skin was flaking away, revealing pink skin beneath, but there were strange scars across his cheeks that wouldn't go away. As Hermione was leaving one day, Madame Pomfrey confided in her,
"Those scars were not inflicted by the potion."
"I don't understand," Hermione had said.
"Those scars were already there. They had just faded over time. Mr. Malfoy refuses to tell me how he got them."
"That's very interesting," Hermione mused. "Do you think his father did it?"
"I wouldn't put it past Lucius," Madame Pomfrey laughed sardonically. "But, somehow, I think that those scars were inflicted by something else. Something worse."
A/N: I changed the formatting around a teensy bit, and if it's unsatisfactory or you think it's terrible, or something of the sort, do let me know, and I'll change it back. Please review!