"Are you ready for this?" Hermione asked, taking a deep breath as she brought her bag closer to her chest, touching her hands together.
"No, but I'm going to have to be." Draco straightened himself as he looked up at the high building, towering above them as muggles weaved themselves in and out of the parked cars in front of them.
Without a word, Hermione grasped Draco's hand and pushed them forward towards the Hospital entrance.
"I'm sorry we didn't find anything last night." Hermione told him as the red double swung open to greet them.
"It's not your fault." He muttered into himself, not wanting to think of where he would be instead if they had found the missing paper as he let go of her hand and walked a little ahead.
"It is," Hermione defended for him, "I mean, if I had looked harder earlier, we may be closer…"
"But instead," Draco stopped still, turning himself towards Hermione slightly, "we're back to square one,"
The woman bowed her head, shuffling her feat as Draco went on,
"Look, I really appreciate it, Hermione, but there's nothing that can be done." He paused and gave a sad smile down at her sorry face, trying to find her eyes as she looked up at him tentatively,
"I'm not giving up on you."
"I shouldn't get my hopes up, that's all-and you shouldn't either." He stepped towards her and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"Too late." The woman smirked and span around, leading them back into the direction of the first sign, towards the Oncology department.
Swallowing back his fear, Draco handed his form to the old and lined receptionist, who asked him to confirm Hermione's (written down as his own) address, to which he nodded and signed the sheet that was thrusted in front of him without question. If he had thought about it, he wouldn't want it. He'd heard all there was to this game of Chemotherapy, and knew the horror stories; he wasn't ready to say the least. If he had his way, the Slytherin way, he would have this whole thing sorted out on his own aim. But there was no way of getting that.
"Will you come in with me?" Draco asked as they sat down on plastic chairs in the waiting room, his sweating palms turning into one another.
"Of course I will," Hermione smiled slightly, looking around at the other grim faces waiting to be called, "I don't know if I'll be of much use though."
"You'll be company," Draco swallowed, before adding to himself, "and just seeing you will take away the pain."
Hermione wasn't meant to hear, so she pretended she didn't. Even if she had had words to express what the sentence meant to her, or what it had done to her insides, Draco's name was called out before she had the chance to try.
"Malfoy," A nurse called out a second time from an open door at the side of the waiting room, "Draco Malfoy."
"Draco," Hermione shook Draco's hand on his lap, waking him from his stupor as the nurse called out his name for the third time, "Draco, it's time to go in."
Draco nodded silently, standing himself up on shaking knees as he followed Hermione's feet towards the nurse and her sickly sweet voice and her stupid blue uniform and shiny badge.
"Are you a next of kin?" The woman asked Hermione as Draco was led into another room lined with beds.
"Not exactly," Hermione glanced up at Draco, who was none the wiser about her sudden problem and continued staring at his shoes, "I'm just his housemate, I guess."
"I'm afraid you won't be allowed in whilst Mr. Malfoy is having his treatment," Suddenly the door to the room was closing and the nurse moved herself in front as Draco walked in, obstructing Hermione's path.
"Please, I need to be with him." Hermione told the nurse, panic rising in her chest, taking a step forward as she watched Draco drift further away.
The nurse took a step towards her, away from Draco, away from the door, forcing Hermione backwards.
"I really will have to call security." The nurse smiled politely, reminding Hermione greatly of Umbridge.
Knowing just how Umbridge was, and not doubting for a second that the nurse was the same, Hermione gave in with a sigh and stepped back again to allow the door to swing shut in her face as the nurse walked away.
Draco looked up to realise Granger wasn't with him, and in fact, wasn't in the room at all. None of the nurses looked like Madame Pomfrey; in fact, the room looked nothing like the infirmary at Hogwarts. Everyone was knew. Everything was different.
Starting to feel his heart racing, Draco did everything he could to stop himself from panicking-or worse, crying. Listing all the hexes he had cast in his head alphabetically helped take his mind off the sharp scratch as the needle was inserted into his arm. Faces blurred into shapes as he placed his head onto the pillow. Just before his eyes closed over, his vision managed to focus on one face. Hermione's, floating in the window.
Hermione watched through the dirty window in the door as Draco fell asleep, the nurses crowding around him as they messed around with tubes and bags and all things that boggled Hermione's logical mind and made her feel slightly queasy. Waiting another minute to make sure he didn't stir, Hermione made her way to the waiting room.
An hour past and Hermione envisioned herself as one of the characters in Ron's films, dissolving every second into a different position through a montage of clock faces as the seconds ticked by. After three cups of coffee, constantly refilled with a quick charm, Hermione sat with her legs up on the table in front of her, her head bent over a Runes book.
The old scribbles transported her back to her days in the classroom, to which she could hardly escape as she still learned so much about the wizarding life, even to this day. She would never have guessed that Healers couldn't deal with cancer-never mind that a Slytherin as dark as Draco Malfoy would ever be in such a position. Setting down the book on her knee, Hermione rubbed her eyes and amused her wandering mind into thinking back to school.
As always, her thoughts turned straight to the bad. The early days when she was a know-it-all who got picked on because she corrected the pronunciation of spells or put her hand up too much. She had done everything right, her homework was always in on time and it wasn't like she didn't help Harry and Ron whenever they'd needed her. And she'd always found time for fun. Still, being part of 'The Golden Trio', as some sarcastically called them wasn't enough to get her away from the odd bit of bullying. Draco wasn't even the worst. Her own dorm mates constantly copied off her work, even going to the extent of using revealing charms on her spare paper. There was a lot of trouble when that plagiary was brought back down on her.
Suddenly something clicked in Hermione's brain as she rewound her thoughts past the sobbing faces of Parvati and Lavander in McGonagall's office, their homework spread in front of them. She replayed the scene in her head. McGonagall had sharply reprimanded them, but had slightly praised them. No one in thier year could ever have mastered such a charm. Flitwick hadn't even taught them it as it was highly frowned upon. Hermione shook her head, trying to rattle her brain to remember what charm it was, her mind spinning as she cut to different thoughts-anything that wasn't the answer. She'd used the spell herself, earlier the same year-they must have heard her. That's what Ron had thought at the time. Trying to think with all the thoughts wizzing around was hard, but finally she remembered her own high-pitched, young voice saying the incantation; Aparecium: the revealing charm.
That was it. That was how they'd find out the answer to what lay on the hidden words of page 133. The hidden cure.
Standing up quickly, the book fell to the floor as she rushed out of the room and hurried steps led her down the long corridors as she searched once again for the right room. A nurse eyeing her suspiciously, Hermione checked the window to the room were Draco was lying, still unconscious. She cursed under her breath as she realised he'd wake up and not know where she was, but there was no way she could pass on a message to him. She just had to hope he would know she wouldn't leave intentionally. Rushing out of the hospital without hesitation, the woman ducked behind a stationary ambulance and apparated into Diagon Alley.
Unlike the hospital, Hermione knew her way like the back of her hand and she wasn't afraid to run down the street, her bag tied under her arm as she tried as hard as she could to reach the library in only a few minutes. For once, she didn't care who saw her. All she could focus on was that charm. Relief flooding her as she reached the corner before the library, Hermione slowed down and fixed her hair without stopping, every inch of her alive with anticipation.
When her hand finally reached the handle, she cursed loudly to find it was locked. Putting her face to the window, she scrutinized the dark room for any sign of movement. Without hesitation, the woman embraced her years with Harry and reached for her wand,
"Alohomora." She said clearly, satisfied as the lock clicked open and she was able to open the door successfully, locking it again behind her. Without turning on any lights, Hermione made her way to the back of the library and got to her knees two shelves before the wall, where she had hidden the book beneath the bottom of the shelf. Taking it out and opening it to the marked page, the woman took out her wand again.
Hermione placed the tip of her wand directly onto the dried ink, the crisp page wavering under the pressure as she whispered the revealing charm, her eyes bearing into the page as she strained her vision into the blurring letters, all her concentration pouring into the revelations.