Important notes at the end :)
The fire continued to consume the greenhouses, torrid, monstrous flames stretching their tongues to the black sky. Blaise, Ron and Harry, on the Astronomy Tower, heard the bang of exploding windows and rushed outside. McGonagall had just finished her call down the chimney to the Aurors' Office. They were on their way. The students who were scattered around the outer fields had been spotted by Slughorn and Oakwood and quickly guided inside. No one really understood what was going on, but they had seen the Dark Mark and were terrified. Those walking through the corridors of the castle, whether in pairs or alone, saw the fire eating away at the greenhouses through the windows and immediately thought that Hogwarts was under attack. Again. Professors Sprout and Sinistra continued to gather all the students in the different wings of the castle to bring them back to the Great Hall. Everyone was on high alert, but as the Ball continued uninterrupted, no one really believed that there was any real danger. Most thought it was only because of the fire. The seventh and eighth years feared that Death Eaters had once again gathered an army to wipe out once and for all anyone who had fought them during the Final Battle last June.
McGonagall, who had rushed outside to remove the Dark Mark, had just heard the explosion and was now rushing towards the greenhouses. She ran across the snowy yard to the greenhouses, followed by Blaise, Ron and Harry who had bumped into her in the corridors. Stopping just short of Draco on the ground, held in Ginny Weasley's arms, she finally noticed the Dark Mark floating above the Forest. The sight of the Dark Mark activated her horrible memories. It was no longer Draco Malfoy, her chosen Head Boy, who was on the ground. It was a former Death Eater who had led other Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts and endanger all of its students. She drew her wand, driven by fear and uncertainty.
"Miss Weasley, please stand back!"
Harry, Ron and Blaise arrived just then. Ginny lifted her tear-drenched face to the Headmistress.
"Madam, he needs—"
"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said sternly, "is history repeating itself?"
She tried to ignore as best she could the devastating sobs coming from the Slytherin.
"Did you conjure the Dark Mark?" she continued, feeling her confidence tremble inside her. "Did you or did you not let Death Eaters into the castle?"
Ginny stood up quickly. "He hasn't done anything! It's not what you think, please..."
"Miss Weasley, I have to protect this school and—"
"It wasn't him," Harry interrupted. "You have to believe us."
McGonagall turned to Harry and stared at him, her face bathed in the light of the flames.
It was Blaise who took a step towards her. "It's... it's his magic, Professor," he said.
Ginny returned to kneel before Draco. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Draco..." she whispered. "Breathe. Breathe, Draco. Look at me."
The Slytherin ignored her. He had stopped screaming minutes ago, but his tears were out of control. His whole body was shaking. The image of a wolf tearing a rabbit to shreds kept pulsing painfully in his head.
"Draco..." continued Ginny. "Look at me. Please..."
The blonde Slytherin lifted his neck and looked into the young redhead's tortured eyes. She managed to smile at him, though it didn't reach her eyes. "St. Mungo's has the best Healers in the wizarding world..." she breathed. "She'll get better, she'll be fine. Just breathe."
Draco let himself be carried away by the twinkle behind Ginny's eyes and the odd composure that had changed her face. How had she managed to calm down? McGonagall watched the scene, dumbfounded, wand down. The roar of the flames did not abate.
"Breathe in and out," said Ginny.
Draco did as she said and breathed in as she did. He exhaled through his mouth for a long time, drawing a shaky breath. They repeated this process. Gradually Draco regained control of his breathing. The fire subsided. The best Healers. He let Ginny press his shoulder with her hand. He concentrated his efforts on mimicking the rhythm of her breathing. She'll get better, she'll be fine. The fire disappeared.
Silence fell over them. Only the sound of breathing hung in the cold air. Draco put one foot on the ground and slowly got to his feet. Ginny stayed beside him. The Slytherin took a step towards the Headmistress. McGonagall had never seen him like this.
"What happened?" she asked bluntly, not knowing who to ask.
Draco closed his eyes to block out the image of the wolf with a torn rabbit in his teeth.
"Hermione was attacked," Harry answered. "Duncan MacMiller did it."
"MacMillan," Draco corrected through clenched teeth. "It's… not very clear at the moment."
Blaise and Ron opened their mouths in surprise. No one had told them yet.
"And Pansy," Ron added with an evil look on his face. "She's confessed to everything. Pansy has been cursing several people for months to torment Hermione. They were in it together."
"Duncan killed her brother, and he came for Hermione," Harry finished, his voice breaking. "This is serious, Professor... she—" Harry cut himself off and sniffed.
Ginny let herself cry some more. Draco kept his eyes closed. He couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't stand there, both feet in the snow, waiting for the discussion to develop as if there was no emergency. McGonagall's face broke down. She seemed to catch up with her old age in a matter of seconds. She looked exhausted.
"You should send some teachers to get Pansy," said Blaise. "She's in Sinistra's office in the tower. We've got her immobilized."
Draco breathed heavily, his shoulders heaving with his breaths. He couldn't think about Pansy right now. He wanted to control his breathing, for it was the best way, it seemed, to control his magic. But the image of his beautiful partner, his gorgeous partner, sliced by a thousand sharp blades, stirred his thoughts. She's running out of time. Ginny had told him she would be fine, but the nurse had said she didn't have much time left. A violent throbbing began to shake his muscles again. He was losing the taste in his mouth. Something rose up inside him, bubbling. For the first time in his life he began to pray, to beg a nameless god. Please, anyone, anything, heal her. Bring her back. Let her live. Don't take her away. Bring her back to me. I beg you...
Draco opened his eyes again, but his vision was blurred. He blinked repeatedly and took two quick steps towards McGonagall to get her attention.
"Professor, please let me go and see her," he asked.
McGonagall frowned, a sorry look on her face. She didn't know exactly how serious Hermione's condition was and couldn't let an unstable student visit her and see the extent of the damage.
"Mr. Malfoy, I can't allow you—" she began, her tone bleak.
He begged her with his eyes, feeling new sobs forming in the pit of his stomach. "Please, please, please... If she wakes up, she needs to know that I— that someone is there. Please, please, please..."
"Mr. Malfoy—"
"I BEG YOU, PROFESSOR!" he cried. "BRING ME THERE! I CAN'T JUST WAIT HERE AND DO NOTHING!"
McGonagall swallowed, feeling a knot in her throat. The Slytherin's eyes burned into her and left a warm trackless print on her. "I can't explain to your mother that—"
Draco fell to his knees for the second time. "PLEASE!" he wept. "PLEASE LET ME GO. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE... PLEASE…"
"Professor…" Ginny begged softly, her eyes shining. "Please, let him go."
McGonagall realised that her misty eyes were fixed on the Slytherin at her feet and that he was holding out his white hands towards her. Something collapsed inside her and she swallowed hard.
"Come with me, Mr. Malfoy," she ordered.
Draco leapt to his feet. The Headmistress looked at her other students standing around her.
"I will let Mr. Malfoy use my chimney to go to St. Mungo's. I'll send a message to the teachers about Miss Parkinson. I've already notified the Aurors, so the Minister knows. Hogwarts will be locked down for the night. All the Professors are already aware of the situation and will be keeping watch and patrolling the castle until the Aurors arrive. I would ask you, please, to go back inside and to wait for my further instructions."
She walked briskly away from them, and Draco moved in behind her. Once they were far enough away, Blaise and Ginny exchanged a long look, separated by several feet. Blaise let his stomach twist painfully and walked over to her, his face looking gravely crushed.
Ginny noticed his expression and reached for him. "What is it, Blaise?"
Blaise pursed his lips and blinked. He was putting the pieces of Pansy's information together.
"She thought it was me…" he murmured.
"What?"
"Pansy grabbed a hair from me. Mia—" His voice broke. "Mia was tortured, and who knows what else, by Duncan that looked like me..."
Ginny pulled the Slytherin against her just as he collapsed in her arms.
McGonagall had guided Draco to her office. Once inside, she turned to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, applying sympathetic pressure.
"I can only think of one way to get you to St. Mungo's quickly, and that is through the Floo Powder network. I'm not entirely at ease with the idea of sending you to St. Mungo's alone, you should know that. But I understand your affection for Miss Granger and I know your talents. The nursing staff can look after you if the situation becomes..."
She glanced at the Head Boy, thinking of the moment when the flames had stopped as soon as he had calmed down.
"...out of control," she finished. "I'll write a request for the hospital secretary to notify me when you're ready to return. I'll send an Auror to pick you up and bring you back here. My only order is that you wait for him before leaving, no matter what. Is that clear?"
Draco nodded silently. McGonagall opened the door to her office and entered quickly.
"Be discreet, that's all I ask" she added. "I will wait for the Healers' report. In the meantime, I will contact Miss Granger's friends for details of the unfortunate events that have occurred."
The Slytherin nodded, staring into the unlit fireplace. The Headmistress took a handful of Powder in her fist and walked over to her fireplace.
"I'll have to contact Mr. and Mrs. Granger about—" she began.
"No need," croaked Draco, his voice hoarse. "I'm sure Potter can explain why."
McGonagall pursed her lips and a veil of sadness darkened her pale eyes. Draco stood beside her, both feet in the ashes. McGonagall dropped the Powder at their feet as she called out the Hospital's name. A green flame swirled around their bodies and three seconds later they were in the noisy visitors' hallway of St. Mungo's Hospital. Healers in green robes moved quickly from one end of the room to the other, disappearing behind doors leading to other corridors or higher floors.
"May I leave you here, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Thank you, Professor," Draco said without intonation, heading straight for the reception desk.
"Merry Christmas, my dear," McGonagall murmured sadly, her eyes fixed on the back of the young man's neck as he walked away.
She disappeared at once. Draco rested his palms on the reception desk and looked at the young witch. "A Hogwarts student has been admitted here," he said. "About fifteen minutes ago…"
The receptionist flipped through some files, but Draco couldn't afford to wait for her to get through her pile.
"Please," he gritted, his jaw clenching. "It's urgent. She's seriously injured. Her name is Hermione Granger. Madam Pomfrey has admitted her. Please, just tell me where I can find her…"
The young witch blinked a few times rapidly and grabbed a red folder that was already open on her desk. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Yes, poor Miss Granger…"
She cleared her throat, looking sorry. Draco's mouth went dry.
"Let me have a look," she continued, scanning the file quickly. "She's been taken to the Surgical Ward on the Fourth Floor, but the Healers won't—"
The Slytherin was already heading for the nearest staircase. He knew he wasn't following the rules. He knew he should probably check in and take his time. But time was the one thing he didn't have. Not as far as she was concerned. He went up the four flights of stairs quickly and ended up in a long corridor. On the floor, arrows of different colours indicated the way.
Chief Healer's office, right
Waiting room, straight ahead, last turn left
Janus Thickey Room, straight ahead, second right turn
Surgical Ward, left
Canteen, straight ahead, last turn right.
Draco rushed to the left and continued to follow the black arrow SURGICAL WARD until he came to a wider corridor. A Healer with a mask pulled down under his chin noticed him and walked towards him.
"Are you lost, young man? It happens frequently. Don't worry, you're safe..."
The Slytherin tried to look over the Healer's shoulder. "I'm not lost!" he cried. "I'm looking for Hermione Granger! I was told she was here!"
The Healer blinked and pursed his lips. "Oh... Um, Miss Granger. I see."
"Where is she?!"
"She was taken care of quickly. We have a whole team of Healers on her case. Are you a member of her family?"
"No, I—" Draco swallowed. "I'm her friend."
"I'm sorry, but we can't admit any visitors at this time, until her condition is stable. I can have you wait in the waiting room and—"
"I want to see her!" Draco exclaimed, fighting the desperation that distorted his voice. "I need to see her!"
The Healer was unfazed and addressed the situation gently. "Can you give me your name, please?"
"Draco Malfoy."
The Healer raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth and closed it again. Of course he knew the Malfoy family's reputation. He blinked and nodded. "Just give me a minute. I'll see what I can do."
Draco wanted to retaliate, to argue, and to run in hopes of stumbling upon the operating room, but he stood where the Healer had left him. Nervously, he dug his nails into his palm, one by one, concentrating on the pain instead of the torment of his mind. The intensity of the magical lights in the corridor burned his eyes. The whiteness of the walls reminded him of the sheen of the virgin snow in the Forest, where the bloody letters smeared its purity. If only he could hear her, see her, smell her, touch her...
The Healer returned to him a short time later. "Mr. Malfoy, follow me."
He led him down the corridor, made two left turns before stopping in front of a closed room, with a large window with curtains drawn to hide what was inside.
"Miss Granger is in this room," said the Healer. "I can allow you to sit here in front of the room while you wait, but you will not be able to see her. We'll keep you posted on any improvements."
Draco stared at the closed curtains behind the window, wishing he could peer through them and see behind them. He couldn't hear anything.
"Can I... can I know what's going on?" he asked. His throat was aching.
"Unfortunately," said the Healer, "I am not on Miss Granger's case and I cannot disclose any information about her condition. A Healer will be able to speak to you as soon as Miss Granger is out of danger."
The Healer frowned, realising that he had just let a small bit of information slip and watched the face of the young blonde man before him fall to pieces.
"Thank you, Healer..." Draco muttered, unable to speak any louder.
The Healer sighed, looking empathetic, and left him. Draco stood in front of the curtained window with his arms on either side of his body. What was happening on the other side? Had Hermione regained consciousness and was she screaming in pain? Was she screaming his name? If he couldn't hear anything, was it because it was already… over?
A violent tremor shook him. No. She still had time. A team of Healers was with her. He tried to control his shivering and the turmoil in his mind. If he lost control here, he would be expelled. Here, in this corridor, was as close to her as he could get. But why on earth couldn't he hear her? Why couldn't anyone come to him and tell him what was going on?
He silently drew his wand and pointed it very quietly at the closed door of the room. "Finite," he murmured.
As he had guessed, a Mute spell had been cast on the room. Voices echoed through the walls, clearly echoing in his ears.
"We have to stop the bleeding," cried a female Healer.
"Her head!" said another Healer, this time a male one. "Georgia, put a bandage on her head, she has a gash in the occipital region!"
"Ferula!"
"Hang in there, Miss Granger," reassured a second female Healer.
"Ernest, she needs a transfusion... now. She's lost too much oxygen."
"Check her blood type."
"Sanguis Coetus!" Short pause. "She's A-negative."
"Georgia, her flank wound is deep," Ernest said. "Check the lung for punctures."
Another pause. "The left lung was grazed by the blade," said Georgia.
A silence. Then a sudden commotion.
"We're losing her!" cried Ernest. "Georgia, get me some A negative. Right now, please."
The Healer named Georgia left the room with lightning speed and did not even notice the Slytherin, who was frozen in front of the window. All that could be seen was her dress flying by like a green blur. Draco continued to listen, his heart racing.
"She's going into haemorrhagic shock," Ernest continued. Her heart rate is too fast. If we don't stabilise her in the next few minutes, it's over. Agnes, repeat the Vitality enchantments. Over and over."
"Just hold on, Miss Granger." Agnes breathed. "Reditus Vitae. Reditus Viribus."
A pause.
"I'm starting cardiac reactivation," said Ernest. "Inpulsa Cordis!"
"Reditus Vitae... Reditus Viribus..."
Draco broke the spell at once and reactivated the Mute enchantment on the room. The silence crushed him. Staggering backwards, he dropped into the chair against the wall. He buried his face in his palms and inhaled. His breath was hot. His head was spinning. We're losing her. He found himself unbalanced again, dangling before a dark abyss that stretched its dark embrace towards him. He was going to lose her. He was going to lose Hermione Granger. She was going to die. She was going to die because he had decided to leave her alone to get her a drink.
Healer Georgia returned quickly, a small white box levitating behind her. She noticed Draco but didn't have time to stop in front of him and entered the room, closing the door behind her.
At that moment, Draco gave in to his agony. He opened the floodgates of his soul and let himself be stabbed by thousands of sharp spikes. He let himself drown, he let himself be flayed, broken, tortured, burned, crucified, shredded. He consumed himself. He let his own ashes dust his thoughts and settle in a dark corner of himself, like a wounded creature.
Tonight Hermione Granger would die and he couldn't even bear to witness the last efforts of the Healers.
All night the Healers remained in the operating room, wands raised over Hermione Granger's body, repeating spell after spell, applying every potion and ointment they had. A Muggle catheter had been inserted into the crook of her elbow, allowing blood to flow from the bag of blood magically suspended near her head.
They had to monitor her constantly. The cardiac reanimation had worked, but the young woman was still too weak. Her condition was not stable. She regularly relapsed into severe convulsions, and the flow of oxygen to her organs and brain remained insufficient. Her wounds were beginning to heal, but her grazed lung was taking longer. The internal bleeding was harder to stop. Sweat beaded on the foreheads of the Healers. A fourth had been called in to apply additional enchantments.
Draco Malfoy sat in the chair all night, never falling asleep, his eyes glued to the closed curtains of the room. He had decided not to lift the Mute spell again.
A day after Hermione's arrival at St. Mungo's, she was still in the operating room, with a team of hard-working Healers working tirelessly to heal her. Her condition was still unstable, and the Healers were beginning to be filled with doubt and uncertainty.
On one occasion, one of them, Agnes, went out to get something to eat for the first time in twenty-four hours, and noticed the young man sitting in the corridor across the room.
Agnes blinked several times to chase away her tears of frustration and walked over to Draco. "Are you here for Miss Granger?"
Draco nodded but did not answer. His complexion was pale and there were heavy circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept in a long time and his stomach was growling.
Agnes swallowed. "We're doing everything we can," she said.
Draco looked up at the Healer with bleary grey eyes. "I know," he croaked.
His voice was almost gone. It had been a long time since he'd spoken. He cleared his throat and leaned his head against the wall behind him. Agnes examined him for a few moments.
"Miss Granger suffered a major hemorrhagic trauma, which caused a serious drop in the oxygen level in her blood. It's a very common cause of Muggle death."
Draco closed his eyes. That word, death...
"I'm not leaving until the situation is... final," he said.
"I'm not asking you to leave. Were you able to sleep?"
The Slytherin shook his head.
"Have you eaten?"
"I'm not hungry," he lied.
Agnes sighed, pursed her lips, and lifted her chin. "Don't give up just yet," she breathed softly. "I'll come back and let you know."
On the second day, the Slytherin was still sitting in his chair, ankles crossed in front of him. He had rolled up the sleeves of his Ball shirt to his elbows. He looked at the black watch on his wrist that Hermione had given him and stroked it with his thumb. He had removed his bow tie. He ignored the hunger biting at his stomach, preferring to welcome it as a legitimate punishment for his faults.
He was weak. His mind was amorphous. Each of his thoughts was blurred, like drops of water on a window. Each drop sealed the brunette's face, and together they formed a crisp mosaic. A multiplicity of Grangers. A variety of amber eyes. An infinity of sly smiles. Oh, how he missed her... How he needed to hear her voice taunting him. Accusing him of betting too much. How he needed her arms around his neck. Her fingers in his hair. He needed to see her studying, putting on her tie, fastening her badge, brushing her teeth and chugging her glass of Butterbeer.
During the day, a small magical paper plane flew to him, similar to those at the Ministry of Magic. Draco unfolded it.
Draco, my dearest,
Your friend, the Blaise boy, has informed me that someone close to you has been attacked at Hogwarts and that you must stay in hospital with this person. Ravona thinks her son is quite sullen. I asked your friend the name of this person, but he said it was "complicated". I'm worried about you. I understand that you want to stay with this person who is obviously dear to you. Please write to me, I would like to know if everything is okay.
Love to you,
Narcissa
Draco folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. He could not bring himself to answer now. Agnes came back to see him several times. She had noticed that Draco had not shifted or even left his seat. His face grew paler by the minute and she recognised the signs of general weakness. He answered her questions in short syllables.
In the evening she brought him a tray full of food from the canteen and placed it next to his chair. Draco did not touch it and let himself wither away in hunger.
During the night of the 23rd to the 24th of December, it was Ernest who came out of the operating room and went to see Draco. Agnes had kept him informed of the young man's situation.
The Healer noticed his untouched food and crossed his arms in front of the Slytherin. "Boyfriend, I presume?" he asked shrewdly.
Draco raised an eyebrow. Did he have to confirm this easy assumption?
"Something like that, I suppose," he grumbled. His voice was hoarse and dry.
"Young man, I've been in this business for over a decade. It's my job to look after wizards' health. And you, Mr…?"
"Malfoy," Draco grumbled.
"And you, Mr. Malfoy, are not acting wisely. I need you to feed yourself. We're still stabilizing Miss Granger, but now we find ourselves preoccupied with a wizard behind the door who lets himself be starved.
"I'm not hungry…"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but as an authority in the Surgical Ward, I must make an ultimatum. You eat, or you can't sit here any longer."
Draco clenched his jaw and looked at Ernest. He felt like hurling a dozen insults at him, but he stopped himself. He was, after all, a Healer in charge of healing Hermione. Besides, Draco had no energy to be obstinate.
"Fine," he replied. "I'll eat."
Ernest did not move. Draco rolled his eyes bitterly. "I promise," he spat. "But I am staying here."
"That's all right with me."
The Healer returned to the operating room. Draco stood still for several
more minutes before grabbing the sandwich, which had been kept fresh by a freshening spell. He bit into it, furious that he had been unable to punish himself any longer.
On the morning of the 24th of December, a paper plane flew to Draco's chair in the same way as it did at the Ministry of Magic. The young man unfolded it and read.
Draco,
We know you're still at St. Mungo's. We haven't heard from Hermione. They wouldn't let us upstairs to see her because she isn't stable yet.
Please give us an update.
We are still at the Burrow.
Ginny, Harry and Ron
Draco sighed and massaged his eyes. He didn't know what day it was. He could see the time on his watch but he felt like he'd been in that chair for a week. The lights were constantly on and there were no windows in the corridor. Perhaps he had fallen into a half-sleep on occasion, but everything was confused. He had no sense of time. He didn't want to worry her friends unnecessarily and decided not to answer until he knew what Hermione's condition was.
Several hours later, in the early evening, Draco was tapping his foot against the floor. Without thinking twice, he decided to remove the Mute spell for the second time. He listened for hours to what was going on in the room. He heard the enchantments repeated like a litany, and Ernest's sporadic orders and advice to his assistants. He let himself be wrapped up in Agnes' voice as she continued to speak to Hermione to encourage her. Lulled by the echo of the Healers' efforts, he sank into a sluggish slumber.
He was brought back to his senses several hours later by loud exclamations in the operating room. Mute's spell was still on. He looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight.
"Ernest!" cried Georgia. "She stopped breathing!"
"Revive her, all three of you!" ordered the Healer. "I'll analyse her X-rays."
Ernest performed a spell that Draco could not repeat. Draco sat back in his chair, breathing shallowly, his white knuckles closed on the armrests of the chair.
"The scrape on her lung has grown larger," he noted. "The bleeding has returned! Continue resuscitation! I'll try to stop the bleeding."
Several spells were being spoken at once, and Draco was at a loss to distinguish between them. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He seemed to hear voices from near and far at the same time. Bazaar of noises.
"Ernest... She's not coming back," Georgia muttered. "ERNEST!"
"Keep going!"
"We're losing her! Ernest!"
"KEEP GOING! Inpulsa Cordis!"
"Ernest—"
"Inpulsa Cordis!"
Draco had slowly gotten to his feet, his breath stuck in his throat.
"INPULSA CORDIS!"continued Ernest vigorously.
"Ernest..." begged Agnes. "Ernest, your nose is bleeding! You'll kill yourself from exhaustion."
"I will not lose another patient this week! Inpulsa Cordis!"
"Ernest, she stopped breathing…"
Draco felt as if he had received a stabbing shock to the very core of his heart. Thousands of pieces of soul were pulverized and crushed against the corners of her rib cage, his brain, his gut, everywhere. He could not breathe. His knees buckled. His legs slammed against the floor, and his muscles cracked. He put a sweaty palm against the cold floor. Another in front of his eyes. He couldn't make out his skin colour. Nor his number of fingers. No... Not her, no...
All resistance broke down inside him. His face fell apart beneath the havoc of the searing pain that was shredding him like barbed wire grafted into his flesh. Tears splashed on the floor, one after another, each one of them salty, boiling pearls.
"Look!" cried Georgia after a short while.
There was a silence, then an exclamation of surprise.
"What's it doing here?" cried Ernest.
"Let him in," said Agnes. "He must come in!"
Another silence fell, through which Draco distinguished a sliding noise. He heard another gasp of amazement, or fear, or wonder, he could not tell.
"That's the first time I've ever seen one…" Ernest breathed.
"Its tears have miraculous healing properties," said Agnes. "Let him do it."
"Agnes—" Georgia began.
"LET HIM DO IT," ordered Ernest. "There's nothing more we can do anyway..."
Silence returned, and Draco looked up at the closed door with blurred eyes. He could hear nothing but the drumming of his own pulse in his ears.
"He' s so beautiful…" Agnes whispered, her voice full of emotion.
There was a loud gasp, the sound of wings flapping, and another sliding noise.
"Look," Ernest said gently. "She's breathing. Look at her face. She's getting her colour back."
"Ernest," urged Agnes, "look at her X-rays again!"
The Healer repeated the complicated spell he had already performed and gave a shocked exclamation. Draco lay on the ground, gasping for breath and speechless. He did not count the number of minutes, or perhaps hours, that he remained on the floor, not bothering to get up. He would not let himself up until he had confirmation that she was out of danger. He could not fall a second time.
After a moment that seemed endless, the door to the room opened, and Agnes and Ernest came out. They were pale and Ernest had a little blood under his nose. They looked exhausted. Agnes' eyes were shining with tears, perhaps from exhaustion or emotion. When she saw Draco on the ground, her face softened even more and she knelt down in front of him.
"I don't know what god you've been praying to, Mr. Malfoy, but definitely a miracle has happened. A real Phoenix, gigantic and breathtaking came... The good news is that she's stable," she murmured. "The... not so good news is that we don't know when she'll wake up."
Draco lifted his head sharply, and slowly got to his feet. "What does that mean?"
Agnes glanced at Ernest, then back at the young man. "She..." she began hesitantly, "we believe she's in a coma."
"You believe?" Draco grumbled.
Ernest took a step forward. "Mr. Malfoy," he said more sternly. "As we've already told you, Miss Granger suffered a severe bleeding trauma. Although she is now stable, she has taken extensive damage and her brain has been deprived of oxygen. She is in a comatose state, but it is impossible to know how long this may last. This is unique to each person."
"How long is the average coma?" Draco asked.
"It can last anywhere from a few days to a few months," Agnes breathed.
Draco blinked. She was alive. She was breathing. He gave himself a few seconds to appreciate the sense of hope that was growing inside him.
"We have to keep her here while she's in a coma to..." the Healer began.
"Would it be possible for her to be surrounded by her loved ones?" Draco interrupted, feeling panic grip him again.
"She must be watched every day," Agnes replied. "Her vital signs must be analysed and—"
"We have a nurse at Hogwarts."
"Mr. Malfoy," Ernest cut in, "Miss Granger needs a Healer at her bedside to look after her condition. Surely you can understand the importance of her situation…"
Draco didn't let himself be defeated. He couldn't accept the fact that Hermione would remain in this hospital, alone, and that she would probably wake up without any friendly face around her.
"Yes, I understand," Draco said. "If I pay you, can you take Hermione to Hogwarts and put her in the care of our nurse and visit her regularly?"
Agnes stammered, stunned, but Ernest crossed his arms. "We have a lot of paperwork for this kind of situation, and—"
"I'll sign everything," cut in Draco. "I'll sign anything, and I'll pay you any amount you want. She has to go back to Hogwarts. Her family is there. If she wakes up without a familiar face, she'll be completely lost. Please."
"Mr. Malfoy," Ernest sighed, "I do not question your good intentions, but I do not believe that—"
"I'll pay you double. Name your number. You know Madam Pomfrey, don't you? She'll look after her. Please let her return to Hogwarts. I beg you. You don't know how much she'll need it…"
Agnes and Ernest exchanged a long look, and Draco felt as if they were communicating something to each other. "All right," agreed Ernest. "Follow me, we can fill out the paperwork."
"Thank you," whispered Draco. "Thank you, thank you... I know I'm asking a lot of you, but would you allow me to see her? Just for a minute?"
"Of course," Agnes said gently. "Ernest will be waiting for you at the Chief Healer's office on the Fourth Floor. Just follow the yellow arrow on the floor."
Agnes opened the door to the operating room to let the Slytherin in. The room was lit by magical neon lights that gave off a very white glow. Healer Georgia was at the back of the room, tidying up the equipment they had used apart from their wands. She silently left the room when she saw Draco and Agnes enter. Agnes stood back behind Draco with her hands clasped.
Draco approached the metal operating table that sat in the centre of the room. Hermione was dressed in a blue cotton hospital gown. She was still pale, and her hair was scattered around her head like a brown halo. Seeing her so still and white, Draco's heart sank. He placed a hand on her forehead and stroked the roots of her hair.
"We cleaned her up," Agnes said behind him. "It really is a miracle that she survived."
"Can she hear me?" he asked without looking away from Hermione's face.
"Yes, she can. People in a coma can usually hear what is said to them."
For the first time in ages, the shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of the blond man's lips. He took his partner's hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. He kissed her hand very gently. A butterfly on a sleeping flower.
"You'll be back, Hermione," he said. "I'll take you home."
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Malfoy," the Healer whispered.
And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we're apart
Nat King Cole, Stardust
oOoOoOoOo
Hello ! Sorry I wasn't able to post on Friday... My posting schedule might not be regular from now on, but it should stay either at twice a week or once a week. For those who didn't know, I've started my semester full-time so I've become a busy bee. I do my best to finish writing this story! I am so close to the end, so don't be afraid of this fic being abandoned :). I have 37 chapters written. Also, I'd rather tell you in advance that my chapters will be longer. I've kept an average of 4k each chapter, but the more I get towards the end, the longer the chapters. Some might climb to 8k and 9k. Hang in there ! So now we're entering the last quarter of the story. I promise to make it worth it.
I hope you all add a great week and I just want to encourage you all whatever hardship you're going through.
Let me know if this chapter was good for you! :) Thank you so much for reading it, and let's not forget to mention my wonderful alpha Angelina who was so helpful as always, especially for that Pheonix idea, and my two favorite betas Wise_Owl26 and enchanted4life for their awesome work.
Axiomea