Chapter Two - Dead or Alive
"Oh my - Miss Granger, grab what's left of the asphodel, we must take him to the Hospital Wingimmediately. Grab his wand for me. It's over there next to the bush." Zuka urged worriedly.
Hermione's brain felt scrambled. It took her a few moments to register what Professor Zuka had said. Shaking her head, she nodded and snatched the bags that had dropped to the ground, not bothering to gather the fallen contents. By how much lighter the bags were, Hermione knew there couldn't be more than five in each bag. Turning, she spotted his wand, and warily grabbed it, placing it in the pocket of her coat.
She wanted to shout, "shouldn't he be going to Azkaban instead?!?", but withheld herself from doing so. She didn't need to be going around making another scene when this was definitely not the time for arguments. Quickly, she ran along behind the shaken Professor and levitating body of her former classmate.
Despite her tired legs' protests, she ran to the castle to keep up with the professor. It took all she had just to keep her in sight, she couldn't be out here all alone, especially at nighttime. Though her professor shouldn't keep out of reach from her, Hermione knew this was a life or death situation and couldn't stop to think that Hermione might not be able to catch up.
After what felt like forever, they reached the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey's soothing voice was the first thing that changed when she saw Draco Malfoy in Professor Zuka's arms after Zuka cancelled out her spell. There was so much blood; half of it now clung to Zuka's clothing. Zuka had a pained expression remaining on her face, taking another glimpse of the fragile boy in her arms. Hermione leaning against the door frame, attempting to catch her breath.
It was as if it were slow motion while she watched them place him on a bed and attempted to stabilize him. Just by looking, Hermione could tell it looked very well that the odds were against him. He did have a slim, but still possible, chance of surviving, but it was still a very small one. Though telling herself repeatedly not to, she took another glance at Malfoy and noticed the extremity of his wounds.
Her heart sank, she felt for his current condition. Hermione clapped one hand over her mouth, holding in a gasp, in realization. Someone in her year, enemy or not, this boy her age might actually die. Barely, she could hear his ragged breathing, just barely. His white blonde hair, a little longer than before, was now streaked and matted with blood. He looked nothing as he did the last time she saw him.
His white shirt showed that he'd been bleeding heavily, and didn't need to lose any more if he wanted to live. The clothes he'd been wearing were torn to shreds. Rips were shredded horizontally across his shirt and robes, baring various parts of his chest. A fresh gash near his heart was resting there, pointing downward. How long or deep the wound was, Hermione did not know. What Hermione knew about the wounds he'd had, he had at least one deep one, to the head. All she knew was that he was bleeding profusely, and immediately needed help.
What shocked her even more however, was the fact of what she didn't see. Both arms, despite being splotched with blood, were clean of any foreign tattoos or markings. There was no dark mark on his left forearm. Though, Hermione thought that all of Voldemort's followers had it. Vividly, she remembered where she read in a book once that told that every Death Eater who supported and was in the leagues with Voldemort would bear the dark mark as a sign of their proud loyalty to the wizard. Hermione snorted at the sentence, proud loyalty, more like proud idiocy.
"Child, get over here to a bed as well. Professor, I need you to alert the Headmistress." Madame Pomfrey spoke pulling up another bed. Zuka nodded in understanding before taking off past Hermione. Hermoine shook her head refusing, even though she felt as though she was about to collapse.
"No, no. Worry about him. I'm almost positive I saw at least one deep head wound..He needs all the help he can get." Madame Pomfrey sighed at Hermione's stubborness before leaving her.
Hermione blushed as she saw them tear off his shirt, but knew it was necessary to learn the extent of his injuries. Whatever she did, she couldn't tear her eyes away, wanting to see what would become of him; as though if she turned away she would miss something important. Various colored jets of light shot out at the tips of Madame Pomfrey's wand and a tin platter stood beside her on the table next to the bed, holding many different bottles, obviously holding different potions. Gently, Hermione's grip tightened around her own wand that was curled in her fingers. Then, her remaining hand moved towards another direction, and placed itself at the closed pocket in the coat that held Draco's wand.
A sudden glimmer caught Hermione's eye. The moonlight had hit it just right to make it shine momentarily, but only for a second. She focused her eyes more to try and see, but all she could tell was that whatever it was, Draco was wearing it and it was maybe...blue? Or was it green? Either way, she saw it resting near his neck, so it must have been a necklace. Unless, it was a shard of glass or something of the sort. Hermione wouldn't be suprised if Harry and Ron jumped out from behind her now.
Not minutes later, McGonagall appeared gliding past Hermione with Zuka at her tail as they quickly made their way to Draco. By now, Hermione was in complete confusion. Someone with this much of harm shouldn't just be at a school's Hospital Wing. A sudden urge caused Hermione to finally go somewhere close to where they were still stabilizing Draco; she took a place next to McGonagall.
"Excuse me Professor McGonagall, but shouldn't he be in St. Mungo's instead? Or Azkaban?" Hermione questioned.
"Miss Granger, it isn't really your place to ask such questions, but they shall be answered. Not now of course, but later on, I will explain. He can't even be considered to be taken to Azkaban given his condition. Though, I need to request of you that you do not speak of this incedent at all, not even to Mr. Longbottom and Miss Weasley. Do I have your word?"
"Yes, you have my word. I won't say anything.."
"Good, good. Now go along to be screened by Poppy," McGonagall as well, urged her.
"I'm fine Professor. I - " she was cut off by seeing Malfoy start to have a seizure. Madame Pomfrey scurried around the bed, scrimmaging around with different potions, arguing with herself with which one to use. Hermione had never seen her like this, she was starting to panic. When taking a look around her, she noticed that all, including herself, were having the same effect. She tried to stop as she noticed her hand shaking.
"His pulse is falling dramatically now, I have to stabilize him now." Madame Pomfrey confirmed. "Zuka, hand me the potion next to your right - yes, that blue one. Quickly. Back up, give some room." the three of them backed away.
His pulse was continuing to fall, and Hermione heard when Pomfrey said it kept falling, no matter how hard she tried to whisper it. She couldn't believe it. After all this, he was going to die. Hermione let out a choked cry that she didn't know she'd been dying to release.
This was so much to just take in, too much. Her grades, her Head Duties, lack of attention in class, detention, Harry and Ron, and now this. Merlin, this was too much for her to take in all at once. Her head began to spin. She squinted her eyes shut, like she did when she was a young child. Just close your eyes, and your problems will disappear...But she was no longer a child, and problems no longer just vanished. It all came crashing down around her as the darkness overcame her.
A bright light pierced through her eylids causing her to squint. Slowly, Hermione brought a hand over her eyes as her eyes fluttered open. What happened? Through the small openings of her eyelids, she could barely make out that Madame Pomfrey was pulling away the curtains and allowing the sunlight to come forth. Slowly, she brought herself up in a sitting position, and clapped a hand over her head.
Obviously the throbbing pain in her head hinted her that she had hit her head pretty hard. Rubbing her temples, she finally opened her eyes fully to adjust to the light. Glancing at her surroundings, she realized that this wasn't her room. She found neither Parvati nor Lavender occupied the beds beside her, or she would have already heard them chattering away whilst getting ready for breakfast.
"Oh good morning finally. Had a nasty fall last night. Hit your head." Hermione gazed up at Madame Pomfrey and felt her head. Sure enough, there was a good sized bump.
With all that was happening, she had completely forgotten that it was a school day. Had she known, she would have urged to go back to class. But here she was, sitting in the Hospital Wing, doing nothing but asking herself questions. Madame Pomfrey, knowing this, chose not to tell her.
Suddenly, she groaned. The events from yesterday came flooding back to her. Falling asleep in class, the detention, the asphodel, Draco. Wait. She thought it was just a dream, could it have been real? As the whole scene came back to her, she started to remember much more vividly about the night before. She didn't want to reach for her pocket, fearing that it would confirm her suspicions. Almost grudginly, she did, she had to know. There it was. The small lump protruding in the lower jacket pocket was in her grasp now.
Her mind was still replaying the very recent event, trying to convince herself that it wasn't happening. Though, she knew that with his wand in her pocket, that this was far from unreal. This was the last thing she'd had thought would happen. Of all the unexpected turns the year has thrown at her, this was the most surprising. Never in a million years would she have though to see Draco Malfoy again, and alive at that. Hermione sighed, if he was alive still.
She shook her head furiously, there was no way she cared an ounce as to whether he survived. After all the hurt and pain he'd caused her, to everyone. She would prefer if he didn't survive if she had to choose. Though, she knew she didn't have the right to tell who deserved to live or die. Sighing, she closed her eyes again as the headache sent a sharp pain.
Immediately, she looked to her left. Nothing. The only thing was the table that held her wand and Madame Pomfrey, using her own to open the rest of the curtains. Slowly, she turned her head to the right. First she saw the table that held the platter of potions Madame Pomfrey had been using the night before. Right beside it, at the edge of a curtain, was the still form of Draco Malfoy. Obviously, he was closed off so the rest of the students coming in wouldn't notice him. He couldn't be dead, could he? Madame Pomfrey wouldn't just leave dead bodies laying around the Hospital Wing.
Silence, he was still breathing. Obviously, he was closed off so the rest of the students coming in wouldn't notice him. Hermione gave a sigh before collapsing back down on her pillow.