Draco missed classes for the rest of the week. He woke up Wednesday afternoon, but Madam Pomfrey refused to let him out of the Hospital Wing.
"You drained your magic nearly entirely!" she shrieked. "You're not about to go to classes and drain it all again in your condition!"
It made Hermione wonder. Was draining one's magic entirely so rare? After all, she did it purposefully every night. She remembered being exhausted after doing it early on and falling asleep immediately afterward, and she recalled that she had collapsed one time after trying to levitate herself out of the forbidden third-floor corridor. But she'd always seemed fully recovered by the next morning. Why was Draco taking so long to get his magic back?
The rumor mill was furious with whispers of what Draco had done to drain himself so entirely, none of them anywhere close to accurate. The funniest was Draco had exhausted himself trying to curse Lockhart's hair; the strangest was he had poured all his magic into an attempt at becoming an Animagus but instead had nearly turned himself to stone.
The Slytherins listened and snorted at such gossip, but Hermione knew that rumors were flying within the snakes' common room in whispers and glances as well. Many people knew she had left with Draco that evening, and several people knew she was the only one to return.
"Half the house thinks you attacked Draco, trying to steal his magic," Tracey informed her one day. "The other half thinks you and Draco got into a duel and Draco exhausted himself trying to beat you."
Hermione snorted.
"The second's more accurate," she said, folding her arms. "This whole thing wouldn't have happened if Draco hadn't let his stupid ego get ahead of him."
Tracey snickered.
"I figured as much," she said. "Draco's far too cheerful up in the Hospital Wing to have been attacked by you. He'd at least have an ass' ears or something when you got done with him."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
The rumor mill started flying once again on Saturday – someone had allegedly caught a glimpse of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy entering the school, which made Hermione's blood run cold.
"I swear!" Daphne insisted. "I'd recognize their hair anywhere!"
Hermione shifted uneasily. Blaise cast a sideways glance at her.
"Somewhere you need to be, Hermione?" he asked, and Hermione bit her lip.
"Yeah," she admitted. "Probably."
By the time she made it up to the Hospital Wing, clutching a bag in her hand, she could hear Draco's voice echoing.
"-did not!"
"Draco-"
"Pardon me," Hermione said loudly, entering the Hospital Wing and closing the door behind her. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," she added, knowing full well she was interrupting something.
The Malfoys' eyes all fell on her, and Hermione took her time looking them over. Draco looked exasperated but incredibly relieved to see her, and it was good to see him sitting up in the bed. Narcissa Malfoy looked like something was paining her, her delicate features scrunched ever so slightly. Her blonde hair matched that of her husband, whose eyes had narrowed on Hermione.
"That door was locked," he said.
"Oh?" Hermione said, shrugging. "Was it? I hadn't noticed."
Lucius' eyes remained sharp on Hermione as she moved to Draco's other side, pulling a seat up to the bed. But what could she do? She hadn't noticed a door locked. Either he'd forgotten to lock the door, or she'd subconsciously cast Alohomora wandlessly and wordlessly to make her way inside.
She suspected he'd just forgotten to lock it.
"Mother, may I present Miss Hermione Granger, first of her House?" Draco said, nodding to his mother. "Hermione, may I present my mother, Narcissa Malfoy?"
"A pleasure to meet you," Hermione said, inclining her head.
Narcissa's lip curled. "Indeed."
Hermione ignored the slight.
"Draco here was just telling us about your little adventure," Lucius said. "And about how he nearly lost his magic."
Draco groaned. "Father, I did not. I just used too much. It was an error in judgement. I'm fine."
"That's not what Madame Pomfrey said," Lucius growled.
"If I might?" Hermione interjected.
Lucius' and Narcissa's eyes turned to her, and with a shrug from Draco, she took over.
"Draco exhausted his magical reserves during the ritual," she told them. "It's not unusual to lose consciousness after exhausting your reserves, especially if your adrenaline is high, which it was. This is in strong contrast to burning out his magical core, which Draco never even came close to."
"Burn out his core?" Narcissa repeated, her eyes wide, and Hermione nodded.
"The core of his magic is what replenishes it," Hermione explained, "and it wasn't touched or involved in the ritual at all. Draco will be fine – all he needs is some time to recover all the magic he spent."
Lucius' eyes were sharp, and they flicked from Hermione to Draco.
"Ritual, you say," he murmured, and Draco winced.
"Yes," he said weakly, and Lucius' eyes darted back to hers.
"You are the person with whom Draco performed experimental ritual magic?" His tone indicated he found this highly unlikely, and Hermione straightened and tossed her head back.
"The one whom he successfully performed ritual magic with," she said, haughty. "Go ahead and test him if you like – you'll see the effects of what we did."
Lucius looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes calculating and considering.
"I am no Legilimens," he said, withdrawing his wand and elegantly toying with it in his hand. "But I do at least know the basics."
Draco's eyes widened. "No, dad-"
"Legilimens," Lucius hissed.
Immediately, Hermione was back in Draco's head suddenly, feeling like she was trapped in an Arctic cavern, and she could feel her body shiver. She was aware of the feeling of someone banging dully on the wall of ice she had put up in front of Draco's mind. The wall was solid and smooth, though, and the harsh knocking didn't make so much as even make a crack, though it hurt – it was apparent that Lucius was not a skilled Legilimens in any way. It was almost as if she could vaguely make out Lucius, even – a blurry, blond figure on the other side of the ice, banging to get in.
As Lucius withdrew, Hermione felt herself settle back into herself, shaken and her head throbbing. She hadn't realized she and Draco would be aware if the other was being attacked with Legilimency – she'd thought it would just allow her to be aware if it happened to herself.
"Impressive," Lucius murmured, looking her over carefully. "And you say you designed this ritual?"
Hermione put her chin up, steadying her nerves. "I did."
Lucius' lip curled into a smirk.
"How very interesting," he said. "I wonder just what secrets you have to hide."
Hermione's mind flew to Quirrell and his chest of books, and she willed herself not to pale.
"I'm sure we all have secrets we'd like to keep," she said instead, trying to keep her voice calm. "Some of us more than others."
Lucius' eyes flashed, but he didn't seem angry.
"Then, Draco, if you are truly in good health," he said, "we will take our leave."
"I'll be fine," Draco said, huffing. "You didn't need to come."
"When my only son is hospitalized, I am going to come," his mother informed him sharply, before her eyes softened. "Goodbye, my love."
She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Draco flushed in embarrassment. "Mum!"
"Oh, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said. "Here. This is for you."
Lucius turned, and she held out the bag of leftover ritual components to him.
"There's some powdered silver left, but not much," she told him. "The full ritual instructions and explanation are written down in there, too." She paused. "Though I might ask you to please not share it around."
"...Indeed." Lucius' eyes held hers. "I understand entirely."
Hermione did not know what Lucius thought he understood, and she puzzled over it as Lucius swirled his robes, bid his son goodbye, and turned to go. His eyes paused on her as he lingered in the doorway, giving her an ominous smirk before disappearing once more. Narcissa followed after, sweeping gracefully out the door.
After the door closed behind them, Draco collapsed back onto the bed.
"My Mum is just so worried," he complained. "She doesn't get that I'm not some idiot kid fooling around anymore."
"You're her only child," Hermione said neutrally. "I imagine part of her job as a mother is to worry if you're okay."
Draco made a face.
"Whatever," he dismissed. He looked sideways at her. "This is new," he said slyly. "You haven't come to visit me at all before now."
"If I'd come before now, I'd have yelled at you," Hermione said dryly. "It took a while to calm down from being angry at you for being an arrogant idiot and risking both of our necks in the ritual, you prat."
To his credit, Draco flushed in embarrassment, ducking his head and looking away. Hermione was glad; he should feel embarrassed over what he'd done.
"So why did you come, anyway?" he muttered.
"Because there were rumors your parents were here," Hermione said promptly. "And with half the house saying I attacked you to try and steal your magic, I wanted to make sure they knew what actually happened so when they left here, I would still be alive."
Draco's head popped back up, eyes wide.
"Tried to steal my magic-?" Draco looked horrified.
Hermione nodded. "According to rumor."
"Who is saying this?" he demanded. Draco looked angry. "I'll set them straight."
"Just… people," Hermione said, waving a hand carelessly. "The more vehement pureblood supremacists, mostly. They'd rather believe I tried to steal your magic than that I managed to overpower you."
Draco frowned.
"I- I guess that makes sense, but still," he objected. "That's not even realistic. You can't steal someone's magic, after all."
He continued to grouse about stupid people believing stupid things as he started eating his breakfast of yogurt and fruit, but Hermione tuned him out.
If Dark rituals could steal a baby right out from your womb, stealing someone's magic didn't seem too far out of the realm of possibility, if you stopped to think about it.
Hermione shivered.
If someone tried to steal her magic, if that someday happened…
How would she even begin to try to defend against that?