Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy & Thomas Higgs, who are my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line

Author's notes: Big thank you to my beta Denarii for editing the chapter and Aleah for reading it over! Especially considering she was sick!

Again I am so sorry for this being late… I deleted half this chapter, just decided that I wanted to take a different approach and Aleah recommended that I keep only this portion for the sake of focus. Point is I am so sorry for my tardiness with these last two chapters, I know that I'm really dropping the ball with you all. I will work harder to get them out on time.

Special thanks to bridget237, bageltiger, Celmarr, spannieren, iamacola, Blue Luver5000 and Manoirmalfoys for their reviews!

Chapter 45

"No! NO-NO! L-LET ME G-G-GO! GRACES! G-GRACES!"

"She can't even hear you now!" Snape snarled, continuing to try and wrestle his student against the soil of the forbidden forest. "Thomas! Thomas, listen to me. Listen to—"

"Y-YOU L-LEFT H-HER! H-HOW C-C-COULD Y-YOU L-LEAVE HER! T-TAKE ME B-BACK!"

"Oh and what are you going to do?" Snape spat. "Help her? Did you forget your lesson so quickly, Mr. Higgs? If you go back there and try to save her you will probably get her and yourself killed!"

"S-SO Y-YOU J-JUST L-LEAVE H-HER TO G-GODS KN-KNOW WH-WHAT!"

"I had no choice. She made her decision to come. She knew what could have happened. Thomas, if you do not calm down I am going to use my wand on you!"

No sooner had the potions master made the threat did Thomas not hesitate in sending him hurtling towards a nearby tree. Snape slid against the bark and down into an overgrown brush, before bursting forward with wand in hand, casting levicorpus. Snape took a moment to compose himself as Thomas struggled with his robes as he dangled upside down.

"You are exactly what she said!" Snape growled, lifting Thomas' robes and grabbing the boy by the cheeks. "A child! A foolish, rash child! I know what I left her to! I cannot save her from such actions! You cannot save her from such actions! Graces Malfoy made her choice! The only option we have left—the only choice—is to handle the damage. He is not going to kill her. He won't. Killing Graces loses Draco, and, trust me, the Dark Lord is no fool. He does not want to lose Draco. He wants to send a message," he added quietly, flicking his wand and releasing Thomas.

"Wh-what are th-they d-doing t-to h-her?" Thomas moaned, laying his forehead in the dirt as he continued to cry.

"Whatever they are doing she will recover from."

The professor's answer did little to comfort the boy in front of him and Thomas continued to cry for a few moments before Snape grabbed him by the arm and started for the castle.

"Y-You h-have to g-go g-get her," Thomas pleaded, dragging his feet and causing the man beside him to yank harder on his arm. "P-please b-bring her b-back. P-please."

Snape ignored the rest of Thomas' pleas and Thomas, after almost fifteen minutes of pointed silence, stopped begging and just cried. As they neared the castle he saw familiar blonde hair illuminated in the moonlight. Draco calmly strutted across the finely kept Hogwarts grass to meet the two of them, obviously not having a clue that Graces had even been at the meeting.

"It's okay, Thomas," Draco sighed, tugging Thomas' arm away from Snape's rough grasp. "It's going to be okay. Snape will give you a potion and the soreness will go away. Try not to think about it."

Thomas kept opening his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. Everytime he tried to tell Draco about Graces his sobbing just ended up being harder and he couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Higgs was not harmed. No curse, regular or unforgivable, was placed on him," Snape informed quietly.

"Then why are you blubbering," Draco scowled, smacking the back of Thomas' head. "I'm going to start calling you Longbottom if you cry for no good reason." Thomas opened his mouth and tried to tell Draco but between his sobs and stuttering the blonde didn't get a single word. "These aren't the robes I got you," Draco said quietly frowning at Thomas' sleeve as the younger boy held his cloak.

"Your sister went with Mr. Higgs to meet the Dark Lord," Snape finally said.

"What?" Draco breathed, looking around for a sign of her. "Then where is she? WHERE IS SHE?!" he asked again as neither Snape or Thomas answered.

"Oh my gods," Draco croaked, taking a step back and grabbing his chest.

"Draco, she is not going to be—"

"YOU LEFT HER THERE!" Draco roared. His face twisted in a way where it seemed he was torn between sobbing and screaming.

"We had no choice," Snape snapped. "Your sister made the decision to come and—"

"WHY WOULD YOU LET HER? WHY? YOU KNEW WHAT OUR SITUATION WAS YOU KNEW AND YOU—"

"It's done!" Snape exclaimed. "It's done. Now you can continue yelling at me or we can—" The potions master stopped his scolding as Draco began sprinting into the forbidden forest. "Draco, come back here! Draco!"

Draco was running as fast as his legs could carry him. Graces was with the Dark Lord. Graces was alone with the Dark Lord after he had not been able to complete his task of killing Dumbledore. Draco didn't even want to imagine what that sick, twisted man was doing to her. He needed to get to that apparition point. He needed to get to her. She was not going to suffer for his failings. She was not. He was going to get her. He was going to get her and take her back here and she was going to be fine. Just fine.

Draco picked up his pace as he heard Snape behind him. He could feel his sides burn from the labor, but he didn't care. If Snape caught him he wouldn't be getting to that apparition point and Graces would not be saved. So he pushed harder through the pain, ducking and dodging curses that the potions master was shooting at him. He wanted to grab his wand and curse him away, but he was worried it would slow him down so he pressed forward. He was almost to the point. He could see the tree that marked the apparition point, but right when he was about to push harder to reach it his feet were suddenly stuck to the ground and he was falling face first into a tree root.

"Why is it that you, your sister, and Mr. Higgs insist on being pigheaded fools?" Snape growled, rolling Draco over on his back and digging his heel into his chest. "Do you three not realize that your lives are meaningless to our Lord?"

"Let me go!" Draco wailed, tears of frustration and fear flowing down his face. "Let me go! Graces needs me. She's my sister. I love her. I can't let her be hurt. I can't. You have to let me go. You couldn't possibly understand."

"If you go before the Dark Lord right now there is no telling what he will do to you or what he will do to Graces. You will only feed the blood lust. Draco, listen to me; trust me. I will get her back, but you need to stay here," Snape ordered, moving his leg off Draco as the blonde boy continued to sob.

"She's my sister," Draco moaned, covering his eyes with his arm. "My baby sister. You just left her there. How could you leave her there? How could you take her there? You have no idea what you've done. You've never had anyone to love and protect. Someone that makes you feel whole and sees your good and not your bad. You have no idea what you've done."

"Your sister is not going to be killed. The Dark Lord would not—"

"He's a mad man!" Draco screamed. "He would kill her on accident. He would become too carried away in her torment to remember to keep her alive!" Snape closed his eyes as the young man rolled on his side and curled into himself crying as though he had been the one punished by the Dark Lord. "Please take me to her. Please take me to get her. I have to be there. I have to save her."

"It's done!" Snape snapped. "It's done. We left her about half an hour ago."

"Oh gods," Draco moaned, his chest shuddering as he rolled back to bury his face in the dirt. "Oh gods."

"We do not have time for this," Snape scolded. "You will get up this instant, go to the castle and wait for me in your sister's dorm room. You will not—I repeat, will not—breathe a word about any of this. Do you understand me?" Snape strode angrily to the apparition point. "You want to save your sister? Begin to do as you are told in a timely fashion, Mr. Malfoy."

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Snape slowly walked into the dark room, careful to keep his steps from alluding to any sense of urgency. He could feel the soles of his shoes slipping on the bloody floor but maintained his balance and kept his eyes forward. He could see Graces laying in the middle of the floor from the corner of his eye, but tried not to look too interested.

"Severus, it appears you have come too late to join us in our earlier festivities," the Dark Lord greeted happily. "Such a shame you had to play teacher and take the younger boy back to school."

"Such a shame," Snape agreed hollowly, stopping right where Graces laid.

"Miss Malfoy, didn't seem to enjoy herself like the rest of us," Voldemort declared, false disappointment riddling his voice.

"Is she alive?" Snape asked casually, noting the immense amount of blood he was standing in.

"Now, now, Severus, would I so casually kill your goddaughter?"

Snape didn't say a word to that comment. Instead he continued to look forward, his hands folded patiently before him. A multitude of Death Eaters were leaning in slightly for a response, but the potions master offered none.

"Go ahead, Severus, take the girl back to the castle," Voldemort smiled, standing from his throne and moving over to Graces his skeleton like finger gently moving her hair to reveal her bloodied face. "Not an improvement I'm afraid," the Dark Lord tisked. "It would appear some of my followers got a bit carried away. No matter, she's alive."

"Perhaps, St. Mungo's would be better suited for her injuries, my Lord," Snape suggested, evaluating the body before him.

Voldemort smiled menacingly at the suggestion and stood up above the girl lying before him.

"What message would that send?" the snake-like man asked. "I need Draco to understand my impatience, Severus. I need the other students to see what happens when my orders are not carried out in a timely manner." There was a looming silence as Snape waited for the Dark Lord to continue. "Miss Malfoy will not be allowed any magical care. Nor will she be allowed any medical treatment for the pain. For three days she is to remain without it."

"My Lord, she will not survive three days with no magical treatment," Snape argued, unable to stop himself from pointing this out. "Blood loss alone is going to kill her."

"If she dies, you shall be held responsible," Voldemort shrugged. "I suggest you figure something out, Severus. You're a smart man, it shouldn't be too difficult for you to figure out a solution."

Snape stared at the Dark Lord for a moment, before hesitantly bending down to pick Graces up off the floor. It was impossible for him to see the severity of her injuries with her dress in the way, but he attempted to pick her up in a way that wouldn't cause more harm: an impossible task. The moment he lifted the girl up he knew that this could be a potentially fatal mistake. He was by no means a healer, but he understood enough to know you don't move someone this badly injured.

"My Lord, may I request the use of a stabilizing spell so that I can move her without causing more injury?"

There was a long pause in which the potions master was sure he was going to hear no or be cruciated for even asking, but by some stroke of luck the Dark Lord agreed and Snape set to work to stabilize Graces' body for transport. The stabilizing spell did nothing for the injuries. It by no means stopped the bleeding. It only ensured he could not move her in a way that would cause more harm. After a few moments of wand work, he picked her up and began to head towards the door, but just like the last time he had tried to leave the Dark Lord stopped him with a warning.

"And Severus, should you or anyone else use magic on Miss Malfoy to try and help her I will kill a whole year of your house."

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Drifting. Graces was drifting. She could feel Snape carrying her and saw the ceiling of what looked like an old dusty house, but she couldn't seem to be able to say or do anything. She was conscious. She knew what was happening, but she couldn't do anything. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized this must be Snape's home, not his Hogwarts home, his real home.

He stepped into the fireplace and she understood they were going to Hogwarts now through the floo network, because she was dying. He wouldn't have apperated to his home to use the floo if he could have just apperated outside of Hogwarts. She was dying and he was trying to save time. She didn't expect words of comfort from the man holding her to his chest, but she wished he would look at her. She didn't want to die ignored and alone. Snape didn't make her feel less alone. She could be lying on the ground before the Dark Lord still and she would feel just as alone as she felt now in his arms.

She didn't want to feel alone. She wanted to be with someone. There was pain. Awful pain overwhelmed her, but pain would leave. She knew it would. One way or another it would end. She didn't even care if death was the means to that end, but she didn't want to meet it alone. She closed her eyes as the world began blurring. It scared her to see it morph like that. It was like visually seeing herself slipping away and she couldn't bear to see that. Feeling it was one thing, but seeing was horrific.

"Oh, Gods!"

"Help me get her to the bed!"

"Graces? Graces? Can you hear me?"

Graces tried to open her eyes, but they hurt too much. She saw the blurred silhouette above her and tried to grasp something in her mind to make sense.

Father.

"No, Graces. It's Draco. Draco. We need to call a healer! We need to—"

"No healer; no magic; nothing medicinal for the pain. Those were the orders."

"She will die! We have to do something we can't just let her—"

"Go down stairs and get help. You need to try and manage the bleeding. You don't have magic to use, so what you do is apply pressure to any open wounds like this with your hands." Graces gasped as she felt weight on her hip and whimpered when it continued. "I'm going to leave Hogwarts and find someone who can help her, but you need to apply as much pressure as you can. Get a few of your friends, friends you can trust, and use towels and sheets to apply pressure."

"She's dying. She's going to die."

"If you continue blubbering like that and don't do as I say yes she will."

Graces continued to hear crying and after a few moments of loud shouting there were new sounds surrounding her. Still she kept drifting until she was falling and the sounds seemed to become more distant. Every once in awhile something would bring her back to: a sharp pain in her side, someone smacking her cheek, louder yelling, something cold on her head, but she could never seem to continue hanging on. She wished she could, though. She was sure Draco was somewhere in that noise. She wanted Draco, but she just couldn't stay. It was too hard. She was too tired.

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Dr. Harris was exhausted. He was so desperate for sleep that he could feel his heart rate slowing in his chest. He dragged his feet over to his car and thought about how lovely his bed was going to be once he made it home. He had spent the last fourteen hours in the ER. That's fourteen hours of reviewing charts, yelling at residents, seeing patients, rushing to the OR, cutting people open, stitching them up, putting an assortments of orders in and talking to other specialty surgeons about plans of action. It was days like these where he wondered if he had chosen the right profession. He wondered if he should have chosen to be a specialist and not a surgeon: stay in a comfy office seeing patients, work nine to five and never have to work to the point where he was going to fall asleep on the parking garage floor.

Dr. Harris was so tired he almost didn't notice the oddly dressed man walking around the garage, but as the lanky man drew near he slowed his pace.

"Are you lost?" he asked, wondering if this was a visitor that had entered the employee garage.

"Are you a doctor?" the other man asked, striding over to him purposely.

Dr. Harris didn't answer right away, he had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and paused his steps to try and decipher what he should say. There was something off about the man coming near him. It was more than just the odd, priest-like robes he was wearing, it was something else. Something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Is that blood on him?

"Dr. Harris, I need your help," the man started, keeping a safe distance away from him.

"How-how did you know my name?"

"There is a girl," the man continued, ignoring his question all together. "She's badly injured. I need you to come with me."

"Why have you not called for an ambulance?" the surgeon asked skeptically, taking a cautious step back.

"Dr. Harris, please, there isn't time for this. Please come with me."

Dr. Harris stared at the bloody hand extended to him and took a step back bracing himself to get away, but before he could turn the bloody hand was on his shoulder and he was violently being pulled by his naval while the world swirled around him.

Dr. Harris staggered away from his abductor and into an old kitchen table covered in dust and odd jars. He still felt as though his world was spinning even with his feet flat on the ground, he gripped the table in front of him and tried to hold his nausea back so he could think. But nothing was coming. No thoughts were being formed inside his head. Nothing made sense. He was in the garage and now he was here? Where was here? He knew he was in a kitchen, but it wasn't possible for him to be in a kitchen. None of this was possible.

He drugged me. He must have injected me with something. Thus the dizziness, nausea and disorientation. I've been drugged.

"Dr. Harris," How does he know my name? Badge, I'm still wearing my badge. I need to get out of here. I need to move away. "You have not been drugged. Nor are you even wearing your badge."

"Get away from me," Dr. Harris panted moving around the table. He could feel his heart slamming in his chest as the other man moved to block his exit.

"Dr. Harris, I need your help. There is a girl, she's badly hurt. She needs medical attention and she needs it now. I need you to follow me into the next room, so I can take you to her."

"If the girl is hurt take her to the hospital!"

"That's not an option," the stranger informed, moving his stance to be more open incase he decided to make a run for it. "Dr. Harris, I don't want to hurt you, but we do not have much time."

"Move out of my way!"

The older man seemed to be getting more irritated by the second and pulled out a long stick from his robes. Dr. Harris scowled at the motion and took a step back. Wondering if he was going to try to stab him, but before he could think of the implications of a stick the man pointed it at him and sighed: "petrificus totalus".

Harris' arms snapped together to his sides and he swayed backwards landing with a loud smack into his back. He could hear the footsteps of the man coming forward, but he was unable to sit up to see him. He laid there paralyzed and scared.

"Dr. Harris, there is much to explain and little time."

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There was a ringing. Dr. Harris had watched a lot of war movies and in them there was always a ringing sound in the main character's ear when he went into the battlefield or someone next to them got shot and then their world seemed to move in slow motion. He had always assumed the ringing was from all the gunfire. But here he was standing inside an odd room and the moment he looked at the girl he was brought here to help a ringing had developed in his ear and the world seemed to slow.

Children. Children were in this room all crying and yelling things to the man behind him. A girl with a pug nose was crying against the bed. A few boys, no older than teenagers, were on their knees on the mattress applying pressure to wounds with white sheets that were now spattered red. And a young blonde girl lay underneath their hands.

"Jesus Christ," the physician breathed, taking a step back.

"Would you like a calming potion?" Snape asked, taking out a vial from his inside pocket and holding it out to him like he was offering a cigarette.

Dr. Harris stared at the wizard in front of him. The wizard. He still couldn't get over the fact that this was happening, that this was real. He wanted to tell himself this wasn't real: he had fallen asleep and was having a bad dream. But the pain in his shoulder from his fall told him that wasn't true. And he knew this man was standing in front of him while children cried and a girl lay on the bed dying.

"How long has she been unconscious?" he asked rushing over to the bed and ignoring Snape.

"In and out. She doesn't stay unconscious long," a dark boy answered quickly.

"She's consistently breathing on her own?"

"Yes."

"Good," Dr. Harris clipped, taking his stethoscope and listening to her heart and lungs. "Weak. Everything is weak. You, move your hands away from her chest."

"Who are you?"

Dr. Harris stopped his examination and looked up at the blonde in front of him.

"I'm Dr. Harris. I'm a surgeon."

"A doctor?" the darker boy beside him gasped. "A muggle doctor?!"

"YOU BROUGHT A MUGGLE HERE TO SAVE HER?" A burly boy roared.

"Miss Malfoy is not allowed any magical care," Snape said coldly. "What else would you suggest?"

"I need you to move your hands away from her chest now!" Dr. Harris repeated, snapping everyone's attention back to him.

"She'll bleed out," the blonde argued, his hands still remaining firm.

"I need to examine her." The blonde still didn't remove his hands and all the other boys in the room seemed to band with him silently.

"Draco, this is her only chance," Snape promised, walking over to the boy's side. "Her only chance."

Draco closed his eyes and seemed to be biting down as hard as possible on his teeth. Dr. Harris took in his blonde hair, his high cheek bones, the way his ears were shaped and realized with a heavy heart that this boy was related to her. This had to be his sister.

"Draco," Dr. Harris began taking on a more gentle tone, and moving his hands on top of the boys, ignoring his hostile glare. "I am going to do everything humanly possible to help your sister. I swear to god I will, but you need to move your hands and trust me."

Draco grudgingly moved his hands away and Dr. Harris didn't even need to remove the girl's clothing to see her ribs were caved in and broken.

You said you could get me supplies," he reminded hollowly, looking up at the man that brought him there.

"Just tell me what you need."

I need a hospital. Dr. Harris put away his sour words, he knew that the man in front of him was not going to allow this girl real medical attention. He began listing the supplies and tried to keep himself from becoming sick with the thought he would be using these instruments on her with no anesthesia, no pain killers, no sterile environment and with the help of a boy and a man he suspected was responsible for this girl's harm. Suddenly, the child woke and was gasping violently for breath.

"Oh, Jesus," Dr. Harris cursed, moving people away as they crowded near. "I want only family in the room. Draco only may stay, everyone else out. Add a chest tube to those supplies and go now!"

Dr. Harris had seen many patients grow panicked at waking up and being unable to breath, but it was different seeing the girl lying there in the bed wake up with this panic. She heaved to try and take in a deeper breath and her eyes searched out the matching pair above her. She was confused, disoriented and blatantly frightened of him hovering over her with his hands pressed against her more significant wounds.

"Graces? Graces? What's going on!?" Draco shouted, growing hysterical as his sister's loud wretched gasps for air came faster. "Why can't she breathe?!"

"Draco if you can't remain calm I'll ask you to leave the room. I can't have you panicking your sister," Dr. Harris warned, finishing off tying some bedding to a wound, before moving up to examine the girl.

"Graces? Can you hear me? I'm Dr. Harris. I'm a trauma surgeon. Honey, I'm going to take good care of you, okay? So no more panicking." Dr. Harris pulled down Graces' eye lid and examined her pupils while the girl continued to gasp for air. Next he moved his stethoscope on her chest listening to her heart and lungs. "Okay, Graces, you need to listen to me. You have a lot of broken ribs, hon, and what's happening now is those broken ribs have created an air bubble against the right side of your lung, causing it to collapse from not being able to expand fully. I know it hurts and you feel like you can't breathe, but you can. Your left lung is working still. It's not a lot of air, but it's enough. When you panic you start to hyperventilate and when you do that your heart starts pumping faster. Graces, you need to listen to me. You need to stop panicking. Your body doesn't have enough blood. So because of that your heart is already pumping too quickly, add your panic and it's too much. You need to calm down."

Graces didn't seem willing to trust his words, she looked up at Draco as though asking permission to do as he said. Thankfully the blonde nodded and slowly the girl lying before him started calming her breaths. It was painful and each movement she made for air was purposeful to maintain a slower rhythm, but she was succeeding.

"That's a girl. There we go." With his finger on her neck he monitored her pulse. It was still too fast and it was becoming worse the longer she struggled for air. "Graces, I'm going to fix that lung for you, okay? I don't want you to start panicking again so I'm going to walk you through what will happen. When the supplies arrive I am going to cut a hole between your ribs, just a small hole," he added quickly. "After that I'm going to put a tube through the hole and the air that is preventing you from gaining a full breath will come out. This is a really easy fix, sweetheart."

"What if it doesn't work?" Draco asked desperately.

"It will work."

"But what if it doesn't!"

"Draco," Dr. Harris began slowly. "You're going to scare your sister. It will work. Now, until the supplies get here do your best to keep her calm."

Draco nodded and began whispering that things were going to be okay. Dr. Harris tried not to listen as the young boy made promises of life that he was unsure would be kept. The important thing now was keeping her calm if not to stop her heart from pounding then to give her some peace so she didn't die frightened. As he tore her dress open he was hyper aware of the stormy gray eyes watching him. He doubted Graces knew or even cared, her eyes remained locked on her brother as though he were a god she could plead her life to.

Dr. Harris didn't even want to pretend to know what this girl must have been suffering through. He had seen worse injury in his years practicing medicine, but this was different. When someone came into his ER holding their intestines they got to be treated in a facility equipped to deal with such horrors. Graces wasn't in that place. She was being forced to feel all of her injury. She looked as though she had been in a bad car accident without a seat belt. There were signs of trauma all along her chest, face, legs and arms. If she made it through the night he would set to work aligning her bones, but he had his doubts she would make it.

When the supplies arrived the doctor immediately jumped up from the bedside and began grabbing at what was in Snape's hand: Scalpel, tube, syringe, gauze, tape, alcohol and finally blood. He didn't even bother to lay anything out, he dumped the large amounts of supplies onto the bed and began dousing Graces' ribs with alcohol.

"K, sweetheart, like we planned," Dr. Harris warned, taking the scalpel and making the incision. He didn't even look to see how Graces did with the pain, whatever pain she was in from him was nothing compared to what he imagined she was going through. He threaded the tube behind her ribcage and used a syringe at the end to take the air out. And suddenly with a gasp and cough it was done. "Take it easy. Take it easy," he ordered, listening closely to her chest.

"She's coughing up blood!" Draco declared panicked.

"Pulmonary edema," Dr. Harris thought aloud, becoming more distressed as Graces continued to lose blood. "I suspect she has major internal bleeding as well," he continued trying to find a vein in her arm so he could give her blood. "She needs a hospital."

He said the last part more to himself then the people in the room, but the statement made the uncomfortable silence deadening. He couldn't believe how this was being allowed to happen. He never in his life thought he would be doing what he was doing right now. He kept thinking that if he had more gall he would fight the man that brought him here, find a phone and call for an ambulance, but he couldn't get himself to do any of it. This girl needed medical attention and she needed it now. Taking time to fight the man that brought him here would be precious time taken away from saving her. And time was of the essence.

"Graces? Graces? You still with me sweetheart?" The blonde didn't respond: her head lolled to the side and her eyes closed. Dr. Harris cursed loudly and ordered the younger blonde to hold the blood bag.

"What is this?"

"It's blood. She's lost a lot of blood, this bag will give her some blood back. After we are going to give her another bag, then another, then how ever many more we need to give her to replenish what she has lost."

"But where did you get so much blood? Do you muggles have a vampire?"

"Vampire?" Dr. Harris repeated. "No, people donate it." No sooner had the words come out of his mouth did the younger boy rip the needle out of his sister's arm. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"It's muggle blood! She can't have muggle blood."

"What are you talking about? Muggle? She needs blood. She will die without blood. You have no idea—"

"She might as well be dead if you put muggle blood in her!" the other boy roared.

"Draco, stop this!" The older man was now striding over, trying to help him put the needle back in the girl's arm. "She will die without it. Is that what you want? Do you want your sister to die because you couldn't allow her to have blood?"

"Give her my blood," Draco demanded holding out his arm.

"I can't just give her anyone's blood! You two may have different blood types! If I gave her your blood and she had a different type it would kill her! O negative is the universal donor. Without knowing her blood type that is the only blood I can give her."

"They are twins," Snape pointed out.

"They are fraternal twins. They can still have different blood types," Dr. Harris growled, growing increasingly more distressed the longer Graces went without blood.

"I'm O negative," Snape offered, holding his arm out. "Use mine.

"A half blood isn't much better," Draco spat. "No it's my blood or no blood."

Dr. Harris studied the silver eyes glaring down at him with determination. This boy, her brother, was not going to allow her another way of saving her. Anger began to seethe through him. He was a doctor. He knew what he was doing and yet this boy this child wouldn't allow him to do it.

"You will be the one dying if I take the blood," he said slowly. "Your sister is on death's door. She needs all the blood I can give her. No one can donate that much blood."

"I'll take a blood replenisher," Draco argued. "I can drink that potion until she has enough."

"A blood what?"

"It's a potion that replenishes the blood someone loses," Snape lectured.

"A potion that… Why don't you give her that?!"

"Don't you think we would if we could! Do you honestly believe we would be asking you to save her if we had the option of magic!"

"I don't have time for this!" Dr. Harris gritted, grabbing Draco's arm and stabbing a needle through it. "Squeeze your hand open and closed. If your sister dies it's on you!"

"It was always on me," the blonde boy muttered, doing as the physician ordered.

Dr. Harris went to work. Doing all he could do for the girl laying on the bed. He began tearing away the rest of her dress trying to find more open lacerations he could tend to. He felt as though he were racing the clock. He was like a medic in a war zone with no real tools and little skill. Everything he could see was not what was going to kill her, it was all lingering under the surface of her skin. She had to be bleeding internally, but he had no way of seeing where she was bleeding without the proper equipment.

"She needs a hospital," he repeated now with a tone of begging. "She's bleeding internally. I'm sure of it. I need to find out where she is bleeding. I need to get an ultrasound or a CAT scan. Please let me take her. I swear to God I won't tell anyone anything. Just let me take her. Please while there's still time."

"We can't let you take her. Tell me what you need and we will go from there."

"She's in stage four blood loss. The fact that she is now unconscious means that she's lost over 40% of her blood. Her blood pressure continues to drop despite my stopping the external bleeding and her hands are cold. Please. Please let me take her. I beg you."

"But-but I'm giving her my blood," Draco whispered, closing his eyes to keep back his tears. "I'm giving her my blood."

"Something inside her is bleeding. It's like putting water in a bucket with holes. We need to stop whatever it is that's bleeding inside of her to help her and in order for me to do that I need to take her to a—"

"Cut her open here," Snape ordered.

"What?"

"Cut her open here to find the bleed."

"You want me to cut this girl open here. With no anesthesia. No respirator. No monitors." Dr. Harris stared into the cold unfeeling black eyes in front of him. "What kind of a monster are you?"

"The kind you couldn't even begin to imagine."

"The shock alone could kill her," Dr. Harris choked. "Please. Hasn't she gone through enough. Please."

"P-professor," Draco choked, his voice breaking as he took a shuddering breath. "I-I can't lose her. Let him take her… Please-please let him take her."

"You have two options: try and save her here or let her bleed out. No hospital; no magic; nothing for the pain."

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