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Chapter Forty Six: Admirable Achievements.
"Granger, if you've had enough for now, you can say so. There's no shame in admitting you're in pain." Draco reminded her again, for the fifth time, "Pushing yourself too hard will only strain your recovery."
"No, I'm fine." Hermione assured him through gritted teeth. Her hands were fisted to white knuckles by her sides, her feet planted firmly on the floor, and her face was set in a determined expression, "I can do this."
"You only mastered walking the room aided a few days ago, you're already exceeding your targets, there's no need to push too hard." Keeping his hand outstretched towards her, he hovered cautiously before her. When Hermione had suggested walking alone, he had expected she would only manage a couple of steps, but she continued to surprise him. As she prepared to step for the ninth time, he couldn't help a small, proud smile to quirk the corners of his lips up. Her resilience and motivation were astounding, even to those who knew her the best, and she continued to show her incredible strength.
"I'm not pushing too hard." She insisted, shaking her riotous curls in his direction, "We're at war, Draco, I have to be prepared." As she stepped forward, a wince of pain twisted her features, but she quickly schooled it. Her fists flexed and clenched when she came to a stop again and she drew in a sharp breath.
"Granger?" His arms moved to grip her arms, to steady her stance if she wobbled, and stop her progress if she fell, but she stepped forward again, causing him to jump back a step to give her enough room to move. She wobbled slightly and her agony was clear in her tight lips, but she forced herself to take another step.
"Okay…" Hermione breathed out slowly, "Okay."
"Granger?"
"How much farther until I reach the end of the room?" Draco could see her legs shaking, but she looked at him steadily, bottling her pain to fuel her resolve. It would have been admirable, if it wasn't considered foolish.
"Two steps." He grudgingly admitted, knowing she would keep going until she finished the length of the room. She nodded to herself and shuffled forward again, a suppressed whimper pressing against her lips. But she continued on, stubbornly rejecting the pain she felt until her hands touched the wall opposite to where she started. A relieved gasp parted her lips and she leaned heavily into it, "Granger?" Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her into his embrace, so all of her weight was pressed against him.
"I'm alright." She moaned quietly and burrowed her head into his chest, "I did it." Draco felt pride fill his chest, just as she felt in her own breast, but the feeling was quickly downtrodden by the feeling of her agonised tears soaking into his shirt.
Scooping her into his arms, he heard her distressed cry in the warm breath on his neck. Her arms automatically laced around the back of his neck for stability, as he cradled her in his arms. He knew the cure was slowly draining the curse from her system, but the lead weight still pained her calves, which hung heavily over one arm. Unconsciously, his arms squeezed her closer, as he walked back to her bed. Slowly lowering her onto the soft mattress, he eased her grip on him and wiped her tears away. Hermione tried to cover her suffering, but Draco eased her hands away and brushed her curls away from her face.
"It's okay, you've done well today." In hindsight, he would be surprised by the tender tone he used to sooth her, but in that moment, he only sought to comfort her, "You should be proud of your progress. By my calculations, you should be walking pain free in one month." He assured her.
"Really?" Hope crept into her crumbled expression, smoothing some of the lines of hurt painted across her mutilated face, "One month."
"One month." Draco repeated, "You're a fighter, Granger, I've no doubts that you'll make a full recovery, quicker than even I expected." Using his thumb to swipe at a blood tinged tears on her cheek, he smile down at her, "You really are the most extraordinary witch of our age, Hermione."
He had never known anyone to survive, let alone recover so quickly, from such Dark Magic. In the rare instances where the cure was administered, the victim lived in constant pain and suffering, never truly themselves again. They had a half-life of being crippled by the magic so cruelly that they cursed the day they survived. Yet, Hermione proved she could overcome anything time and time again. A peculiar sense of pride settled in his chest, as he took her hand in his, rubbing calming circles onto the back of her hand.
As she gasped for breath between sniffles, she tilted her head towards him. In their long years as enemies, and short time as patient and healer, Hermione had never known Draco to be so gentle. It was strange and contradicted what she thought she knew of his character. Even in these past weeks, when he tended to her, he acting as if he was a professional healer and she was his patient. Yet, he would shock for brief moments, when he would take away her tears and replace the hurt with quiet encouragement. While she was still wary and knew this was a well-hidden side of him no other person would believe existed, she admired him in these moments. He had truly grown as a person in the last year. Gone was the ignorant, bigoted daddy's boy parroting abuse, and instead, a mature, thoughtful, brave man stood in the spineless shadows place. She couldn't help but respect this new attitude and be proud to have brought his kinder side out, which had been buried by his old prejudices. He truly was a good man, even if he did not truly believe so himself.