AN: So sorry for the delay. Things have been so hectic the last week and a half. My son has a play coming up this month with the community theater and I've taken a more active role myself with the group. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 8

Offers and refusals

The softness of the bed is a stark contrast from the hard stone floor that Hermione had been kneeling on a moment before. A soft gasp pulls her attention to the tall woman seated beside the bed. The normally stoic woman's eyes are wide, her hand covering her mouth as she stares down at her son. He coughs wetly, drawing her attention back as blood splatters across his lips.

"Master is needing his potions, Mistress," Cibney exclaims, jumping from the bed and dashing over to the bedside table.

Narcissa grabs the potions and rushes over to the bed, lifting his head and pouring the potions one by one down his throat. "Why did you bring her?" she asks, handing the now empty bottles back to the elf.

"She is saying she knows spells, Mistress."

There is a minute softening in the woman's eyes as she looks down at Hermione. "You can help him?" she asks softly.

"If you'll let me." Narcissa nods and Hermione turns her attention to the man beside her, raising her wand and muttering under her breath as she casts a quick diagnostic spell. An array of colors appears across his body and Hermione gently taps her wand against her palm as she looks them over.

"What is this?" Narcissa asks, glancing nervously over her son's prone form.

"The different lights stand for different types of damage," Hermione explains, her eyes never straying from their surveillance. "The green lights are puncture wounds, the deeper the hue the deeper the damage. It looks like there are definitely some internal injuries along with the things we can see. The red are burns, based on their placement, I'm guessing they're on his back since we're not seeing anything here. Purple is spell damage. I'm unsure where that would have come from, there were no spells cast downstairs. The darker the purple the deeper the magic runs."

As the younger woman speaks, Narcissa eyes the different lights that cover her son, her eyes widening slightly. "There are so many of them."

"A lot of the spell damage appears to be older so I believe it's from a separate instance." With a wave of her wand the lights disappear and she turns to look at the two figures standing beside the bed, her eyes falling to the house elf in particular. "Has he seen a healer at all?"

"Master is only allowing us to use the potions he makes miss."

"Stubborn prat," Hermione mutters to herself.

Raising her wand she slowly begins to trail it over him chanting lightly. A light blue mist floats down from her wand swirling above the prone form before settling on his skin. As it disappears, the faint lines that remained after the potions have faded almost completely. "I'm afraid that I don't know anything to help with the internal injuries or spell damage. However, the external injuries should disappear by morning." Backing away, she climbs off of the bed and looks over at the two other women in the room. "How long have the injuries been this bad?"

"They is getting worse each time the spirits return," Cibney speaks up from her place by the table. "Cibney is not knowing about spell damages though."

"Perhaps we should collect Mister Potter and discuss this over dinner," Narcissa cuts in, eyes on her son. "Draco needs to be able to rest." Without waiting for a response, she pulls the duvet over him and strides from the room.

"You say that the injuries are getting worse?" Hermione asks once the four of them are seated in the smaller dining room.

"When the spirits are first appearing they are not causing physical injuries," Cibney replies from her place across the table. "Each night they is getting worse and worse and, suddenly, Master Draco is coming back with scratches. Then the scratches is getting deeper until they become more than Cibney can take care of with potions. Tonight is the first time Master is coughing blood."

"If it has escalated this much in a month, how long will it be before his injuries are too much?" Narcissa's voice is soft as she voices the thought that they all share.

"The amount of trauma that the human body can withstand can vary from person to person," Hermione responds. "The beauty of magic is that it can help sustain a magical being's body through things that it would not survive otherwise. Malfoy had the potential of being a powerful wizard in school and I see know reason that he wouldn't have met that potential." She turns to Harry before taking a sip of her tea. "Do you think the DMLE would approve putting him up in one of their safe houses for the duration?"

"I can bring it up, but I'm not even sure which houses are available."

"Definitely something to mention on Monday. If we can get him out of here, we can hopefully eliminate the danger to him."

"Draco is a proud man," the older woman commented. "It will not be easy to get him to leave his home."

"Master is not willing to be leaving," the house elf mentioned. "Cibney is trying since the beginning to get him to stay somewhere else. He is not willing to be leaving his home."

"Malfoy is many things but he's never been stupid," Harry cut in. "He knows things are escalating. He more than likely knows he won't survive this much longer. If we had somewhere for him to go, there is no reason for him to stay."

"You saw how little the Ministry is willing to help our family." Narcissa glances back and forth between the two as she speaks. "Do you truly believe that they would be willing to sully one of their beloved safe houses with the likes of my son?"

"The DMLE exists to protect all wizarding citizens. Malfoy is in danger, therefore he is worthy of our protection."

"While I appreciate your support, Mister Potter, our situation has not even been made an official case. The Minister was not even willing to assign anyone to us. If it had not been for Miss Granger volunteering, we would have had no assistance from them whatsoever."

"We still need to try." Hermione insists. "The war is long over. It's high time for people to move on."

"Sadly, for some, it will never be far enough in the past. Those who lost loved ones need someone to blame. My family will not hide from the mistakes in our pasts but I do hate to know the difficulties my son experiences each time he ventures out of the manor."

"Difficulties?" Harry asks, leaning forward in his chair and resting his arms on the table. "What sort of difficulties?"

"He has never told me the things that happen. The truth is in the things he does not say. His letters are often brief but there is a tone to them that speaks of difficulties. I know we both have received howlers and horrible letters. I started having to limit the owls that are allowed through my wards. I see no reason that Draco would not have the same troubles, though his are probably worse since I have been in the safety of France."

"If there have been any threats made..."

"Of course there have, Mr. Potter," Narcissa cuts in with a laugh. "There have been threats on my family since before the end of the war." She waved her hand dismissively at him as she continued, "The Ministry has received a copy of every threatening letter we have received and has not been concerned for our welfare and I doubt they would be inclined to do anything about it now."

"Who has been in charge of your correspondence? If I can get my hands on it, perhaps I could do something."

"Your offer is very kind," Narcissa replies with a smile. "However, what the two of you are not taking into account is the fact that my son was and, in the eyes of many, will always be a Deatheater. The circumstances behind his joining mean very little to those around us and, in their eyes, he is deserving of anything bad that may befall him." Her eyes shift to glance in the direction of his room, "When one hears things about themself often enough, one has a tendency to believe them to be true. My son will never be the easiest person to care for, but he is beyond worth it if given the chance. I fear the choices of his father have removed that chance for him in many aspects."

"We can see about setting up a safe house for him on Monday," Hermione says. "Our first goal is to get him somewhere safe. After that, we can figure out our next steps."

"And if a safe house cannot be found?"

Hermione's eyes harden and she raises her chin confidently, "We'll find something."

"Welcome back."

Draco's eyes turn toward the voice, eyes widening as he takes in the woman seated beside his bed. "What are you doing here?"

"After everything that happened last night, I stayed to help with your healing."

Pushing himself gingerly into a seated position, Draco leans against his pillows and glares over at her, "Mother and Cibney had my potions handled."

"I'm afraid the potions are no longer adequate to deal with your injuries."

"That doesn't answer why you're sitting in my room watching me sleep, Granger."

Hermione clears her throat, lifting her chin slightly. "I was not watching you sleep. I came back to run another diagnostic spell to see how your injuries are healing."

"And are they?"

"Your external wounds have all healed quite nicely with no scars. The internal damage is healing, although more slowly than we had hoped."

"Your concern flatters me, Granger," he says with a small smirk. Moving the thick comforter to the side, he moves to stand, "If you'll excuse me, I'm sure you can see yourself out."

"It would be better if you stayed in bed and got some rest, at least for today. Your internal injuries are still healing and I'd hate for you to have a setback."

"I've too much to do to sit around in bed all day," quickly scanning his bare chest and arms and finding them free of any new scars, he pulls himself to his feet and turns to look back at her. "If you'll excuse me."

"Where did the spell damage come from?" He only makes it a handful of steps across the room before she speaks up once more, making him pause.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me Malfoy," Hermione exclaims, storming over to him and standing before him. "While I will admit that this haunting is far from textbook, we both know that ghosts cannot cast spells."

"Then I'm afraid that I do not see what it has to do with your investigation." Brushing past her, he continues to make his way toward his wardrobe and begins pulling out clothes for the day.

"Damnit Malfoy, I'm trying to help you."

Draco pulls on a deep blue shirt and begins to carefully button it, turning back toward her with a sigh. "My mother asked you here, I understand that and, while I do not agree, I will allow you to investigate the apparitions that have begun to haunt the manor. Aside from that, I am not your concern." Casting a quick charm to fix his appearance and mend the damage done to his trousers, he tucks his wand into his sleeve and folds his arms, leaning back against the wardrobe. "I assure you that any spell damage your spells detected is in the past. If you're looking for the perpetrators, I'm afraid I cannot help you." Pushing himself to his full height he strolls past her toward the door. "Save the manor if you can, Granger, and leave me in peace."

The door clicks closed behind him and Hermione lets out a frustrated sigh, "Stubborn prat."

AN: This chapter took on a life of its own. It actually isn't even in my outline but last chapter while I was writing Hermione just decided to help out unexpectedly and I just went with it. Reviews are always appreciated and a huge thank you to everyone who has read up to this point!