AN: Thank you to disestablishmentarian and Mystery of the Night for reviewing, it's so great to get reviews, they literally make my day, so thank you so much!
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Song Suggestion: Never Close Our Eyes, Adam Lambert.
Chapter Twenty Two: Tick, Tock, Clock.
Under Shell Cottage, time was lost. There had to be a multitude of clocks to track the time passing in the outside warzone. Showing when it was appropriate to eat, sleep, and wake. But he felt so cut off from the world. As if there was no war wagering above them. Draco shook his head at himself. He was being ridiculous and had too much time on his hands. Hands of which were making the final preparations to awaken the Witch in his care.
It had been three days since the skirmish at the Manor. In those few days, Hermione had barely surfaced into consciousness before Draco forced her back to sleep. Her body needed time to heal naturally on its own, before he began the rigorous regime of potion taking and teaching Granger to move again.
But in those few days, the Order had begun to get used to the Slytherins presence. They kept their distance and still viewed them with contempt, but it was a start. No one tried to hex them or hiss insults. Only ignored them. The feeling of isolation and exclusion clouded the air wherever the Slytherin trio went.
Although, Malfoy's constant presence in the medical wing was accepted, if not welcomed. With him as the only healer able to care for Hermione, he was left to work alone. No one was allowed in the ward without a purpose, so he hadn't seen Blaise and Pansy. He did think about what they could possibly be up to and hoped they were okay, but being alone right now suited him fine enough as he worked.
Though a chaperone was always present, watching him in case he turned his coat again and poisoned their princess. Not considering why he'd do that after already giving up so much. But what could expect from unforgiving Gryffindors. He tried to ignore their hovering forms as he worked. Sadly, some people were harder to ignore than others.
"When will she wake up?" Harry demanded, tapping his wand impatiently against his thigh. Draco wondered why Potter couldn't keep it shut like Luna or Fleur; they were much easier to forget they were there. Most simply sat there, keeping an eye on his actions, and watching Granger. But the Boy-who-wouldn't-die had changed his name to the Boy-who-wouldn't-be-quiet.
"When I decide." The pale wizard replied curtly, measuring out a potion into the correct dosage. He wondered briefly whether he'd be this annoying if Pansy was the one in the coma but swiftly dismissed the idea. His style would be glaring at the healer to work quicker, not talk them into distraction.
"You mean she could be awake now!" Potter snapped and stood up, looking ready to hex his nemesis into oblivion. Draco's patience was wearing severely thin. Sometimes he wondered how Potter had passed his O. at all.
"No." He snarled irritably and stoppered the potion, "She needed time to heal. So stop being so bloody impatient and wait." Before the other wizard could retort, he strode over to Granger's bedside with a tray of vials, "This isn't going to be pretty, so I suggest shutting up or getting out. Choose now."
"You ca-" Cutting off his opposition, he cast a wandless silencing spell. The other boy's voice would only cause arguments, now of which was not an opportune time to divulge in. He was supposed to be healing not fighting.
"Better." Malfoy sneered and placed the tray carefully on the bedside cabinet. Ignoring the enraged wizard and the tensely clutched wand now pointed at him, his fingers ran over a vial regretfully. After days of semi-peaceful rest, he'd have to bring Granger back to life where she'd contort and scream in agony. Steeling his resolve, he began the vital process of restoring Gryffindor's princess to her healthy state.
Cupping the girl's chin gently, he lowered her jaw so her mouth gaped. He'd never considered he'd ever see Hermione so vulnerable and at his mercy. She was a little lioness normally, seeing her so nearly dead was unsettling as he opened the vial and dripped it into her mouth slowly. Counting, one drop, two, three…The liquid slid down her throat and an almighty cry was ripped from the curly haired witch's lungs.
"Hermione!" Harry mouthed, forgetting all about threatening Malfoy in favour of his distressed best friend, "Hermione, it's me! Calm down!"
"She can't hear you, genius." Draco muttered. And this is what the fate of the Wizarding World rested on, a boy who couldn't even remember he could bring his own voice back. Though, he thought it might have been for the best as Potter's mouth continued to move. Silence was calming and something to be grateful for right now.
Gripping Hermione's jaw to hold her thrashing head still, he unstopped the next vial and dripped it down too. She coughed and choked on the potion, her body writhing, but the liquid went down, gurgling. Draco willed himself not to react as the girl cried and struggled, swallowed in a world of pain. Gathering his stone cold mask, he rearranged his facial features and reached for the next remedy.
Repeating the process over and over, he watched her movements slow and her wailing turn to weeping. Malfoy took it as a sign of his concoction working and fed her the last. The extra strength, painless potion seemed to freeze her completely. Her body went limp and her eyes glazed over in a fog of relief.
The exhaustion of the past few days hit him like the bloody hippogriff from third year. After the nap he'd interrupted from days ago, he hadn't slept. Which was not uncommon as he tended to avoid sleeping because of the nightmares that plagued him. Watching again how someone was tortured into madness. Witnessing the death of another victim. Every hideous memory of the past several years plagued his mind. He couldn't even find peace in resting. Hermione's recent ordeal would be the latest in a long line of reoccurring hauntings. Looking over at the poor girl, it was seemingly over. For now at least.