AN: Thank you so much to disestablishmentarian and Dramionelover26 for reviewing, every time someone reviews it keeps me updating, so a big thanks to last chapters' reviewers!
And a quick note for not updating recently, reality has sadly stolen me from being able to write and post, but I'm hoping to get back to posting regularly, so thank you for continuing to read my story.
Read and Review Please!
Song Suggestion: Stitches, Shawn Mendes.
Chapter Twenty: Soothing the Mind.
Malfoy barely noticed his friends leaving him. His eyes darted from one potion to another that he was concocting. One cauldron bubbled and smoked fiercely, in danger of boiling over. While the other's surface rippled with added ingredients. The heat from the potions caused a light sheen of sweat to cover Draco's face. Swiping an arm across his forehead, he rolled his sleeves up to the elbows before throwing in a rat's tail to the fiery potion and watched it set alight, casting defining shadows over his face.
Potion making came easily to him after years of practise and inherent skill. His Godfather had spent many hours training Malfoy to perfection, especially as war grew nearer. Offensive and defensive potions, healing and dark potions. Any potion there was he'd made at least once. It had him wondering on many occasion if his skill would now best Granger's.
As his thoughts drifted to the curly haired witch, she stirred restlessly. Moaning in distress and tensing jerkily. Draco glanced at her and frowned. It was strange to see the normally bold witch so vulnerable and under his care. Only a year ago he'd have called anyone mad who would help the poor girl. Now he was the madman.
As the fire died, he retrieved a circular bottle and poured in the sparking liquid. Once the last of the potion had filled it, he swirled it around before stoppering it. Setting the Star Grass Salve into a jelly consistency, he dished it into the appropriate container and closed the lid on that too. A third potion hissed off to the side which he covered with a layer of ice. That wouldn't be ready until the early hours of the morning. Collecting several of the potions together, he levitated them to Granger's bedside table and walked over.
The unconscious girl twitched like a frightened mouse and pity swam in his gut. His Aunt had done that to her, made her into this. Trying to smother the unwelcome reminder, he picked out the bruise removal paste and got to work. In light of the other sever ailments; the minor injuries had been neglected. Bruises, slices, and grazes marred her sun kissed skin.
Taking her right arm first, Draco smoothed the thick, yellow paste over the dark bruises. The blood in the bruise looked like his. Dark blue and blotchy. How could muddy blood be the same colour as purebloods if it were not the same. Of course the term Mudblood didn't necessarily lead to physically dirty blood, but if the prejudices were true there would be a difference.
He had long since gotten over that ridiculous notion. If Granger, as Mudblood, could be the brightest witch alive against people who had grown up in wizarding society, then how could it possibly true that they were inferior. As the bruise began to fade marginally, he moved to the next, soothing the assaulted flesh.
Working methodically, Malfoy applied several potions to the witch's skin; Bruise Removal paste, essence of Dittany, Murtlap essence, Star Grass salve, and Wounding Cleaning potion. Watching as the bruises faded and shallow cuts and grazes fused together. Hermione whimpered louder now and he brushed her hair back in a soothing motion.
Moving on, he unwrapped the bandages hiding that cursed word on her arm. Right where his dark mark lay, Bellatrix had carved 'Mudblood' into the pale complexion of her left arm. The words were like an attack on his mind, dredging up buried memories of insulting words and cursing thoughts.
Trying not to stare, he covered the ugly marring in the potions as a precaution, knowing all too well that they would do nothing to the scar. Its blood red letters were taunting as he massaged the area with pastes and salves. Summoning fresh bandages, he thought it'd be appreciated if it was covered, and wrapped the mark. Once it was gone again, Draco sighed a breath of relief.
After checking on the potion still brewing away, he sat in the chair by Granger's bed and rubbed his face. So much had changed in the past twenty four hours. So much. He'd given up everything he had ever known for a girl he'd bullied mercilessly in their childhood. But he'd also saved Pansy and Blaise, something he'd do again and again in a heartbeat.
Malfoy wondered what had changed back at the Manor now he was gone. The Dark Lord would have been called no doubt. Perhaps his family had been tortured for their deserter son. Traitor. Blood traitor. It was strange to be exactly what he thought was beneath him. He was just like the Weasleys now.
He'd witnessed torture before, was aware of the screams and writhing pain. He'd been subjected to it himself. Despite being disowned, he still hated the idea of his mother crying out as the Dark Lord sneered above her. The sick half creature getting off on her pain. His father wouldn't yell, he'd grit his teeth hard and take it out on his family when it was all over. It was Bellatrix who would be the most disturbing to watch. In her insanity, would she shriek or laugh? The disturbing image sickening him.
Focusing back on the Order's medical wing, he noticed Granger was trembling and sobbing erratically. Still trapped in unconsciousness but feeling every ounce of pain her injuries created. Taking her hand he murmured quietly to her, soothing her emotional pain as he had her physical pain. He thought how she'd react if she could see him now. Would she shout at him? Curse him? Reprimand him?
She'd probably correct his potion making and tut at his applying technique. This made him chuckle under his breath. Maybe the stress of the day had finally got to him. Shrugging off the light hearted humour, he leaned his head on their clasped hands. How pathetic he would look to anyone who was spying on him but, in his exhausted state, he couldn't bring himself to care.