A/N: First I'd like to say thank you to my reviewers for being so supportive. An especial thanks to people who like how subtle I am being with Hermione/Draco's relationship. Personally, most of the really good ones are written that way, and I'm trying my best to emulate that. So, thank you again and thanks for being patient with my updates.

This chapter is a little short and I personally don't think it's very good. Yes, it's just a filler chapter, I'll admit. It's also unbeta'd, so please excuse any errors. I wrote a scene for a chapter that will probably appear in a few months (at the rate I'm going). It'll probably be in chapter 11 or 12. I think you all will enjoy that chapter. Chapter 9 will be better than this one, I promise. In the meantime, filler:

Chapter 8: Healing Process

Hermione resisted the urge to slap Malfoy's cocky face and instead levitated his body up the stairs and through the single lane of wizarding Godric's Hollow. She commanded Ron to carry him to the car, and to her surprise and pleasure the redhead did not protest. "Harry, can you drive?"

The boy in question looked at her with wide eyes and shook his head. Hermione leaned her head against the hood of the car and said a few choice words, then ordered Harry to get in the front seat. "Ron, lay Malfoy down in the back with you, and I need you to tell me if anything happens to him—anything. If he coughs, if he wheezes, if he stops breathing, tell me the moment it happens. Tell me if he gets paler, or if his lips turn blue."

Ron looked at her wide-eyed but nodded, and suffered to have Malfoy's head in his lap as she drove them to their hotel. He carried the blond up to her room, where Hermione had already taken out her cauldron and was hastily throwing things in.

"Harry, trade places with Ron and keep an eye on Malfoy. Ron, I need you to Apparate to Diagon Alley and get me a book on healing. Buy it for me, then find a blood-replenishing potion in there and get the ingredients for me. My money bag is zipped in the lid of my trunk."

He opened her trunk and got out the bag, then hastily Disapparated with a crack. Harry alternately watched Malfoy and Hermione with worry. A ring of purple bruises was appearing on her arm from where Ron had held her. Her clothes were bloody, muddy, and ripped from the inferi, but she didn't seem to notice. "Harry, what's his status?" Hermione demanded.

"Um…he's…pale…" Harry said.

"Paler than before?"

"I…don't know." Hermione set her jaw but didn't look up from the potion she was brewing. "I don't think so. What—what are you making?" he asked hesitantly, afraid he would set her off.

"A healing potion. The episkey spell alone won't work to keep those cuts sealed. They're already reopening," she said, glancing pointedly at the bed. Looking again, Harry saw now how the blankets on her bed were turning red.

"You got the Horcrux, right, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," he said, reaching to her bedside table and grabbing it to show her. The cup was small and golden, with a badger engraved upon it. The two handles were finely wrought, Harry noticed. She nodded approvingly as he set it back down.

Ron Apparated into the room with a sharp crack, startling Harry and Hermione both. "Hermione…" Ron began, "I got you what you needed, but in the book it says it'll take twelve hours for the potion to brew…"

Hermione stared at him, then her eyes turned to Malfoy, studying him. "Please, Harry," she whispered. Malfoy was beyond her skill; they needed professionals.

Harry turned away, unable to break her heart while looking her in the eye. "No. Not after Azkaban. If we hadn't done that, maybe…"

She held out her hand for Ron and he passed her the bag of items. Checking her watch and then leaving her other potion to sit, Hermione opened up the book he'd bought her and flipped to the page. Examining the potion closely, a small smile widened her mouth as she spied a possibility. "If I only put in—"

Hermione was cut off as her first potion began to smoke. She immediately removed it from the heat and conjured a glass, which she filled with the purple liquid. "Sit him up for me," she instructed. Harry pulled Malfoy into a sitting position and Hermione wriggled behind the prone boy. Being mindful of the glass, Hermione rested Malfoy's head in her lap and supported it with one hand. "Harry, if you could open his mouth for me…?"

Harry did so and Hermione tipped the glass until the potion trickled into Malfoy's mouth. A bit dribbled out the corners, but some went down his throat. Hermione wiped his mouth with her hand and then gently lay him back down. "You two, try to get him to drink this. I need to start working on the other potion." She thrust the purple liquid into Harry's hands.

"Hermione—"

"What, Ron?" she asked, getting out the proper ingredients.

"I don't think—"

"He's going to make it, Ron."

"Hermione, I don't think he'll last twelve hours," Harry said. "Look at your pants."

She did, and saw that the front of them was covered with blood where Malfoy had been propped up against her. "I don't care. I'm not going to just sit back and watch him die. Make yourselves useful!" Hermione turned back to her potion, emptying the smoking purple liquid into a few conjured-up bottles and then cleaning the cauldron with a quick "scourgify!"

"Gemino cauldron," Hermione muttered. Setting the extra cauldron aside, she began mixing ingredients in the other, but when the recipe called for essence of murtlap she only put in one quarter of the required amount. When she was done, Hermione stirred for ten minutes and then left it to simmer for two and a half hours.

Ron looked over and frowned at the bottle of essence of murtlap. "I thought you were going to need most of that bottle," he said.

"Yes, but I looked at the potion and only put in a quarter of what it asked for," Hermione said, changing the direction of her stirring. "That way it'll only take one quarter of the time to brew. I'm going to make a stronger dose with the rest of it next because that one will be too weak to do much but keep him stable."

"And stable is what you aim for," Ron said.

"At the moment, yes," Hermione agreed. "How much of the healing potion did he drink?"

"About a third of the glass."

"Well, keep trying to give it to him." She saw the two boys exchange a glance but ignored them even when they tried to speak to her. Hermione was not about to let Malfoy die just because the situation looked bad.

Once she had both potions brewing steadily, Hermione moved back to her patient. Harry and Ron had propped his head on a pillow, and she deftly took over the task of caring for Malfoy. Now that her head was cleared from her panicky rush of finding him, Hermione reached for Malfoy's wrist and pushed her fingers to the inside of it. She couldn't feel a pulse, which worried her. Hermione moved her fingers to the side of his neck, finally feeling the pumping of his blood. It was faint, and erratic, but he was still alive. The bed beneath him was soaked with blood and Harry and Ron held him up while she used the healing charm on his back again.

"Please, Malfoy, please stay with us. Don't die. I'm sorry we weren't quick enough to save you from this. Fifty-seven cuts for the fifty-seven minutes the door was open, right?" she asked. Hermione kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation with him, urging the smoking purple potion down his throat whenever she ran out of something to say. Harry and Ron were in their room by then, most likely examining the Horcrux.

It seemed to take forever for the mild blood-replenishing potion to be ready, but at long last it was. Hermione forced Malfoy to imbibe as much of the potion as possible. His body gave a light shiver as he drank, which Hermione deemed a good sign. She waited a few minutes and checked his pulse. It was still faint, but beating steadily now at least.

Hermione stayed with Malfoy all afternoon and night, nursing him back to health. It seemed an eternity before her stronger blood-replenishing potion was prepared, and in that time she had managed to get him to drink two whole glasses of the purple healing potion. Hermione sat beside him with her newest potion and began the painstaking task of pouring it down his throat.

"Come now, Malfoy, this doesn't taste that bad," she coaxed, though it was for her own benefit. In fact, she wasn't even sure if what she was saying was true. She just felt like she needed to keep talking, or she'd go crazy. If she stopped, she would realize how futile the situation was. If Malfoy survived, it would only be because Merlin, for whatever reason, smiled upon them and not through any great feat of her own. If she stopped talking, her thoughts would drift back to the blue orb.

If she stopped talking, it would be like giving up, and Hermione Granger never gave up.

"I'm sure it tastes like chocolate chip cookies," she told him, "and brownies and peaches and ice cream and pumpkin pie. Please, just swallow it. I need you to get better. If you don't—but, no. I can't think like that. You will get better, but I need you to help me here, Malfoy." Hermione checked his pulse again. Though he had only drunk a quarter of the blue liquid in the glass, she could feel his pulse growing stronger. "Good, Malfoy, this is good. Now please, just cooperate with me a bit longer. Just drink this one glass, please."

"Didn't you…say that…four glasses ago?" Malfoy slurred with an effort.

Hermione sighed with relief and bowed her head as all of the tension went out of her, leaving her feeling drained but relieved. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're all right!" She stared at him, a euphoric smile taking control of her mouth. Hermione caught herself. "Drink it," she ordered, pressing the mostly full glass to his mouth. Letting Hermione manage the flow, Malfoy drank what entered his mouth and coughed afterward.

"Good," she praised him as if he were a child. "Now let me see your back." By then his eyes were closed again and he breathed deeply. Hermione sighed, both with relief and exasperation. "How come I seem to only ever be around boys who think sleeping is the best thing they can do with their lives?" she grumbled, thinking of Ron and how he perpetually slept in the car.

She slid her hand between Malfoy's back and the mattress, feeling around for the wetness of fresh blood. There was the sticky residue of old blood, but none of it felt new, and she sighed with relief once again. Hermione brushed Malfoy's hair back from his forehead and then got off the bed to refill the glass.

A few minutes later, two potions sat on the bedside table, one vibrant blue and the other purple, smoking faintly. Hermione cleaned her workplace and looked over at the blond boy on the bed. It didn't look as if he needed a sleeping potion, but she decided to brew one anyway just to keep herself busy. His face wasn't quite so pale anymore, Hermione noticed with a small, prideful smile.

Letting the potion simmer, Hermione cleaned the blankets around Malfoy, being careful not to wake him. The bloodstains vanished from the clean peachy fabric, and then Hermione looked for other things to do to busy herself with. She put away all the potion ingredients and checked her watch on how long the Dreamless Sleep Potion would take. It was still fifteen minutes yet, so she went to her trunk and pulled out the information she'd gathered before leaving Diagon Alley.

Hermione leafed through the sheaf of papers, deciding on a likely bunch and set the rest aside. She sat on the bed beside Malfoy and began to read, checking every few minutes that he was still doing okay. When the potion was done, she bottled it up and then shrank and packed her cauldron. The room was cluttered with various potions by now, so she organized them. I just need to keep busy, she told herself. A yawn brought tears to her eyes, making her grimace. No sleep yet, you need to be sure Malfoy's okay first.

She checked his pulse one more time, finding it steady but still fainter than she would like, and then sat down with her papers again. Hermione read for a few hours, until the words began blurring beneath her gaze and it was hard to keep her eyes open. Then she stood up and busied herself by writing a letter to her parents.

Hermione looked out the window. Dawn was coloring the soft clouds outside, and she realized faintly that she hadn't slept in twenty-four hours. She checked Malfoy's pulse again, frowning. It still wasn't strong. Perhaps I should wake him and give him more potions, she thought. I could clean him up too. But he's already so peaceful…

Standing over Malfoy, biting her lip with indecision, Hermione jumped when he half-opened his eyes. "Granger?" he mumbled.

"Yes?" she asked, guilty for some unknown reason.

"You look like hell," he told her.

Hermione scowled, angry with herself for deciding to let him sleep. She should've woken him when she wanted, the obnoxious ingrate. "Drink this," Hermione snapped, handing him the purple potion off the bedside. He obliged, and she swapped that glass for the other one. "Now this."

Malfoy peered at her over the rim and drank it. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Quite a few hours now. We got back here about noon, so I'd say…eighteen hours?"

"And you've slept…at all?" he asked, somehow making the question snide.

Hermione stiffened. "No."

"While that's very kind of you, it would've been kinder if you had at least changed into clothing befitting a human," he said, closing his eyes.

She stood there, staring at him for a long minute. Then his hand reached up slowly and she gave him her arm. "What do you want now?" she growled.

Malfoy tugged on her arm and she nearly fell on top of him at the unexpectedness. "Sleep," he murmured, patting the bed next to him. "I'll be…fine," Malfoy intoned, yawning sleepily and turning over onto his side. "'Sides," he said, his voice getting so quiet she needed to lean over him to hear, "you're not gonna…be any help 'f you pass out…from exhaustion."

Hermione straightened and closed the curtains to keep the sun out. She was angry with Malfoy and his snide words, but when the room was dark again she noticed how truly tired she was. She clambered up onto the expanse of bed that Malfoy was not occupying and closed her eyes, just for a few minutes, she told herself.

When Harry and Ron entered the room a few hours later, it was to find Hermione and Malfoy both deeply asleep.

Hermione woke up again at about ten in the morning and yelped when she saw who was lying beside her. "Beside her" wasn't entirely accurate—she and Malfoy were on completely opposite sides of the bed, with enough room for a large cat to lie luxuriously between them. Even so, Hermione had no recollections of getting into bed with Malfoy. She threw the blanket off of her and stood up before remembering everything.

"Oh, you're up," said a voice. Hermione startled again and turned to see Ron sitting in a chair, looking over the papers she had abandoned last night. "I must've dozed off," he continued. "You look like hell," Ron blurted out.

Hermione smiled wryly. "That's exactly what Malfoy said. I suppose I should change. You'll watch over him?"

"Sure. What should I do if he wakes up?"

"Um…" Hermione ventured over to the bed once more and checked Malfoy's pulse. "Half a bottle of the blue potion, and then clean his back. It looks like it's bleeding again, but I can't tell how much. If it looks bad, another bottle of the purple potion, but if it's not as bad, give him half. I'm going to shower," she said, catching a whiff of herself.

She pulled some fresh clothes from her trunk and went into the bathroom. Peering out quickly, Hermione said, "Thank you, Ron, for…stopping me, in the…"

His eyes were drawn to the bruises he'd left on her arm. "There's no need to thank me, Hermione. You would've done the same," he said quietly.

She smiled. "Still. Thanks. I don't…I don't think I would've come back if you had let me go."

Ron saw the melancholy in her eyes and didn't know what to say, but that was all right. Hermione turned away from him and went into the shower, scrubbing her adventures away and watching them swirl down the drain. She toweled off, trying not to think of the orb any more than she had to. Thinking of it still left her feeling sad that she had lost it. Of course, it had been an illusion, and she knew that, but at the same time…Hermione had believed it, and to have that trust torn away as suddenly as the shutting of a door was heartbreaking.

When Hermione went out into the room again, Malfoy was still asleep. The blood on the blankets beneath him was spreading in a macabre aura around the pale boy. Hermione pulled her hair back into a quick ponytail and leaned over to wake Malfoy up. Groggily, he opened his eyes. "Granger."

She could already see the pain twisting his face and quickly offered him the purple potion. "Here. Your back has opened up again. Sit up." Malfoy tried, but in the end she had to help prop him up. He drank the potion and she watched as the cuts closed up. "Ron, a wet towel, please."

As Ron ran to obey her, Hermione used a cleaning spell to rid the blankets of the blood. Then she took the dripping towel from Ron and wiped Malfoy's back clean. "Well, the cuts are healing slowly but surely. The ones I was looking at were about half-closed and then they closed up all the way. I'm going to need to brew more of that, though. There's only one more bottle."

"Why do you care so much, Granger?" he groaned, leaning back on the pillows and closing his eyes once again. "Just let me go to sleep and I swear on the name of Malfoy I'll never bother you again."

Hermione slapped him as hard as she could. "Shut up and drink this," she said, giving him the blue blood-replenishing potion. He turned his head away. "Bloody—" she began, "Malfoy, if you don't drink this I swear on the name of Hermione Granger that I will shove it down your throat."

"Since when has your name meant anything to me?" he retorted halfheartedly, but drank it anyway.

"You'd think so much rest would've made you a bit nicer to the person who is caring for you," Hermione snapped, "but I suppose it's in your nature to be a jackass."

"And I suppose it's in your nature to be an ugly, nagging bitch," he told her.

"I was tempted to give you a Dreamless Sleep Potion, but I don't think I will now. If you want to die, I'm not going to help you. In fact, after all these years of being cruel to me, I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you alive," Hermione told him.

Malfoy stared at her, his eyes drifting in and out of focus, and he closed his eyes with a soft smile on his face. She realized with a start that she'd said exactly what he had wanted to hear. "You already knew that, Malfoy, you didn't need to be so mean to make me say it," she muttered as she got out the supplies she needed to make another cauldron of the healing potion. Of course, by then he was already asleep, and she'd spoken too softly for Ron to hear.

"Ron, can you get Harry and the Horcrux?" She was tired of waiting on Malfoy hand and foot and needed something else to busy herself with.

"Of course," he said. He came back a few minutes later with Harry, who was yawning.

Hermione took the Horcrux from him and examined it. Even touching it gingerly gave her fingers an unpleasant tingling, as a leg does when it has fallen asleep. But how to destroy it? She thought, and as if it could read her mind, the tingling in her fingertips turned into a sharp shock of pain. Hermione cried out and dropped the golden cup as Ron hurried over and wrapped her smarting fingers in his own.

"Sorry, I should've mentioned—it hurts when you think about destroying it. Or even just anything negative," Harry said, rubbing sleep from his eyes and then looking at her alertly. He bent to pick the Horcrux up and put it on the bedside table.

"Have you guys tried any spells on it?" Hermione asked as she examined it with her eyes. Ron released her hands rather reluctantly and she bent to be at an even level with the shining gold cup. It didn't look dangerous, she thought.

"No, we were waiting for you," Harry said.

"All right then," Hermione said, picking up her wand from the table. "Let's see what we have here," she said, beginning a series of spells to determine the cup's properties.

By the time Hermione went to bed again she was exhausted and hardly minded that Malfoy was on the bed with her. She had given him more potions and had begun brewing the more healing potion for him, leaving it to simmer on a self-extinguishing flame as she went to sleep.

Hermione slept uneasily, waking up several times to check on Malfoy. Every time she woke she was panicky that he would be dead. Over the course of the day, despite having taken meticulous care of him, Malfoy's condition hadn't improved. Hermione found herself waking and reaching immediately to find the boy's pulse. It got so bad that by the time dawn stretched coldly over the horizon Hermione was sleeping with her hand on Malfoy's shoulder, ready to push her fingers to his neck as soon as she woke.

Finally deciding she would be able to get no more sleep, Hermione got out of bed and roused Malfoy. "Drink these," she told him, handing him a pair of potions.

"Are you trying to poison me?" he struggled to ask. "You've…given so much…"

"I'm being careful," Hermione promised. She knew that a person's body could only handle so many potions. "That's why I didn't wake you up last night to give you more, though you began bleeding again. I'd imagine it's stopped now. I'm going to start using healing spells now instead of the healing potion."

Malfoy nodded and was asleep again. Hermione sighed and went to shower. Harry and Ron were in the room by the time she came out, only wrapped in a towel. She stopped and stood stock-still in surprise. Ron's eyes trailed up her body and they both blushed before Harry turned the two boys around. Hermione hurried to her trunk and pulled out her clothes, escaping to the bathroom and coming out dressed. "S-Sorry," she stammered.

Harry shrugged, but Ron just looked at her approvingly, making her blush again. She became business-like to cover it up. "Harry, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to ask you about who you saw come out of Voldemort's wand at the graveyard."

The boy stiffened slightly. "There was Cedric. And the man from Riddle's house and my parents, and a woman from the Ministry."

"But what was her name, and where did he kill her?" Hermione insisted.

"Bertha…Bertha something or other."

"Jorkins," said Malfoy's voice, making the three of them jump. "The Dark Lord was bragging about her."

"Where was she when he took her?" Hermione asked, leaning over Malfoy on the bed.

"Albania."

All the holidays suck by myself

'Cause I'm fucked,

And I'm dyin', dyin', dyin'

So how does it feel? How does it feel?

--Sugarcult, "How Does It Feel"