AN: Flashback no. 2
Let me know if it works, I don't have a beta cos she can't get to a computer lately, poor girl!
AN2: Picks up straight after the last flashback.
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Draco ground his teeth in frustration. Any and all thoughts of an easy punishment went out the window. Having heard the doors open, Madam Pomfrey came out of her inner office to see who had come in.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," she said. She was abrupt and to the point. "Good to see you. If you'd like to start by changing the bedclothes of the furthest bed down there, the linen is in there, no magic." With that she turned and went back into her office.
Draco grabbed a bunch of bedclothes from the closet and headed to the corner bed. Maybe, just maybe, he could get this done without them waking. He kept his back to the occupied beds and got to work.
"Mr. Weasley, sit up please time for your potion." Madam Pomfrey barked as she came out of the office carrying two goblets, moving with her usual briskness. Ron woke as a shot, flying up in the bed, red hair tossed every which way. He looked around quickly as if he didn't know where he was. He caught sight of the bed to his left and remembered quickly. He took the goblet thrust at him and stared into it.
"Drink up now!" Ron made a face and drank quickly. Madam Pomfrey took the goblet back and Ron dropped back into the pillows.
Draco glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw with relief that the boy's eyes were closed. He tossed the used bedclothes in a pile at the bottom of the bed and started dressing it. He had no choice now but to go to the other side of the bed from where he could look down at the other end of the ward.
Madam Pomfrey was bent over the other bed, gently lifting her head up to drink from the goblet. When she was lain back down, Draco could see her chest moving slowly up and down as if every breath hurt and her face, pinched white. Her eyes were still closed.
He turned away, unable to look.
"Are you happy now?" Ron's voice was angry but quiet, obviously not wanting to wake Hermione up. Draco didn't bother looking up. He couldn't answer back, that would only earn him extra hours stuck here and he didn't want that.
"Your father was part of it, you know!"
Draco still didn't look up. The next bit threw him a bit.
"Don't you care?"
Now Draco did look up. Ron looked more confused than angry now.
"You father and his 'friends' almost killed an innocent student! Don't you care?"
Draco adopted a look of careless indifference.
"Do I look like I care?" Ron turned away in disgust and Draco went back to making the bed. It was as he was fixing the duvet over the bed when he caught sight of Hermione, lying there, pale and almost motionless, that he realised with a shock that he did actually care!
Damn!
Draco straightened up, wincing as his back protested. How on earth did Muggles do this without magic? He wondered. The hospital beds were neat and tidy, and Draco felt a momentary dart of satisfaction at a job well done.
Stop it, he told himself. You're not here to have fun, you're being punished and you're damn well going to feel mad about it!
He pulled the hourglass out of his pocket to see if the sands had gone down much but there was no noticeable difference. He sighed and decided to ask Madam Pomfrey what he should do next. He hadn't really expected the answer.
"Sweet Merlin, boy," she exclaimed. "Don't be expecting me to be ordering you about and telling you what to do next the whole time. Use your head!" With that she firmly shut the door in his face.
Draco frowned and turned. He glanced along the hospital wing, jumping a bit when he realised that Hermione was watching him, to see what he should do next.
He sighed,Ignore her, he thought, deciding that he should continue on the same track and went to fetch a bucket and mop to wash the floor. Only a few hours in and he was already feeling like a house elf. Although at least house elves could use magic.
Hermione watched in amusement as Draco negotiated the beds with the mop, straining to reach under them and getting wetter and wetter. The boy was pure useless with a mop, even if he had managed to make the beds fairly well. She couldn't help feeling a little satisfied that he was being punished for being a complete monster when Dumbledore hadn't been around.
She would have laughed but it hurt to do so. She sighed and reached for the glass of water by her bed.
"Uhhh!" She groaned, shutting her eyes against the pain, and put her hand to her ribs.
"Don't stretch, Hermione. Stretching is bad. Bad is not good." She said aloud, forgetting that she wasn't alone.
"Do you always talk to yourself, Granger?" Draco asked amusement evident in his tone. Hermione scowled.
"Only when there's nobody to hear it Malfoy!" she bit back.
"I'm here!" He pointed out.
"Exactly, Malfoy. Nobody." Damn! Draco came storming over. Damn… damn… damn… damn…damn! She hadn't meant to say that, but Malfoy always knew how to bring out the worst in her. Like the time she had hit him.
He stopped just short of the bed. Whatever he had been about to do, he didn't do it. The fear in her eyes jolted him. He stood still for a moment then he reached out, she pulled back instinctively, but he only picked up the glass on the night stand and handed it to her.
"Thank you." Hermione said hoarsely.
He stood there stiffly while she drank it, then refilled the glass from a nearby jug, put the glass and jug back on the stand and moved the stand closer to her bed so she wouldn't have to stretch to reach it next time.
"Thank you!"
He nodded once, then strode off, picked up his mop and began mopping up the floor again. Hermione watched him with sheer wonder in her eyes.
What just happened? She asked herself, but for the life of her she couldn't give herself a proper answer.
She looked over at Ron's sleeping form and wondered what he would say.
Draco Malfoy, highborn, pureblood, was nice to her! A lowly "mudblood"!
Huh!