Chapter Twelve

When the world stopped spinning it was darker and quieter than the alley. It took Hermione's eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom but she could just make out that they were in a stone passageway of some kind.

"Granger" Nott's voice, quiet from above her.

"What?" She whispered back.

"You can let go of me." She realised his own arms had fallen away from her when they landed and she jumped back, glad that the darkness could cover the heat rising up her neck to her cheeks.

"Give me your hand. It's not far but we must be very quiet." He explained. It took Hermione a moment to find his hand, her eyes still not quite acclimated to the darkness but his long fingers closed around hers and he tugged her behind him moving with the quiet surety of someone who was intimately familiar with their surroundings. Hermione didn't know whether to be glad or wary that Nott seemed to be able to navigate the passageways and doors without a single hesitation in the near total darkness.

The worry which coursed through her at the sight of all that blood and urgency of Nott's pleading was wearing off and Hermione was beginning to wonder if she had royally messed up.

Here she was, in the middle of the night with a blood drenched Death Eater wandering down halls of some unknown place without any information about what she was doing or where she was going.

She was just debating wrenching her hand out of his and making a mad dash down any corridor she could find away from him when they reached a door where a warm sliver of light spilled from under the door. In the dim light Nott put a finger to his lips and then tapped the door handle with his wand, it opened and he pulled her inside behind him.

She blinked against the onslaught of bright light. There must have been a dampening charm on the door, because as soon as they were across the threshold noise assaulted her ears. Someone was yelling in Italian and there was the coppery tang of blood in the air.

"Non capisci manco quanto sei lungo! (an expression for stupid kids who lack self awareness)" Zabini was yelling. "Sei la ragione per cui devono scrivere 'non mangiare' sulle saponette! (You're the reason they have to write 'do not eat' on their soap!)" He was rummaging through shelves tossing things carelessly to the floor as he searched.

"Blaise!" Called Nott and Zabini turned to him, his eyes were wide and wild and if Hermione thought that Nott had looked dishevelled Zabini looked ten times worse. His shirt was open and barely tucked in, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and the white cotton stained a deep red as if he had poured wine all down it, his hair was a tangled mess of wild curls.

His eyes darted to her and he closed his eyes for a moment, much the same way that Nott had when she agreed to help and then he rushed to her, taking her hands in his and kissing them passionately rambling in Italian.

"Blaise, she doesn't speak Italian, sod off!" Said Nott, firmly pushing Blaise away. "I didn't have much time to explain anything to her on the way so she has no idea what's going on, we need to explain, in English." Since Blaise seemed unable to pull himself together Theo turned to her.

"We need your help, we are far, far out of our depth here. Draco took something, we're not sure what but it's bad, the worst we've seen." Nott told her.

"Malfoy.. poisoned himself?" Hermione asked, confused.

Zabini and Nott exchanged a dark look. "He didn't take it… intentionally. It was disguised as something else and it was slow acting, we didn't even know he'd taken anything until after supper when he started vomiting blood." Nott said.

"Where is he? Is he conscious?" Hermione asked, already stripping off her coat and tying up her hair.

"Si e no.. sometimes he is conscious, sometimes he is delirious and doesn't know where he is." Zabini said desperately.

"Right. First, Nott go find me the bottle of whatever it was he took, see if there is anything left in it so we can try and figure out what it was." She said, already her mind was racing through the possibilities.

"Zabini, you're going to need to walk me through the timeline and every symptom you've seen Malfoy display since you've been with him the whole time. I'm going to need a list of everything you've tried and approximately what time you attempted them and I'm going to need to see Malfoy."

Nott gave her a nod and feld back out the door while Blaise led Hermione further into the room.

Malfoy laid curled up in the fetal position on the stone floor looking like death itself. His skin had turned an ashen grey colour, the veins in his neck and hands standing out in deep bruising purple. Thick dark blood was leaking from the corner of his mouth, dripping into a puddle and matting in his loose hair.

Hesitantly, Hermione reached out and took his wrist to check his pulse. She was almost surprised to find one.

Malfoy's fingers twitched in her hand and he opened bloodshot, unfocused eyes to look up at her. Tentatively he wrapped one of her loose still damp curls around his finger.

"Am I dead?" His voice was rough and raw as if he had been screaming for hours.

"No tesoro mio.(my darling)" Zabini said gently.

"Oh good." He sounded relieved "Then I'm hallucinating. It's okay, this one isn't so bad." His finger holding the curl trailed gently down her cheek. "Blaise? I think I should go to bed, don't think- I don't feel very well." His eyes rolled back and his hand dropped from Hermione's face.

"We haven't been able to try much," Zabini said quietly. "We used most of the antidotes he had when we were dealing with this on Sunday."

"Dealing with him on Sunday? He's poisoned himself before this?" She asked, horrified.

"He hasn't been poisoning himself intentionally." Nott said reentering the room. "He's been testing potions he's bought to make sure they Aren't poisonous."

"I don't understand, why doesn't he test them on something else? Or use diagnostic potions to test?"

He was a wizard, with magic and money, there was no reason he should be using himself as a human guinea pig.

"Because he's an idiot who won't let us help or take turns testing them." Nott said wearily. "And after the last two, he refuses to risk any more of the house elves in case Mum notices"

"That doesn't explain why he's testing them in the first place! We have spells and potions for this kind of thing, it's reckless and clearly dangerous to be testing unknown potions!" She hissed.

"Ah, merde." Blaise pushed his dark curls out of his face. "We don't have time right now but I promise to explain, just please…"

Hermione would hold him to that but she reached for her bag and rummaged inside it re handed until her hand closed on a small paper wrapped package.

"It's a bezoar" She tossed it to Zabini. "It should at least slow down whatever it is he took" Nott crossed to help Zabini prop Malfoy up and Hermione went back to rummaging in her bag. She had been more prepared for massive bodily injury rather than poison but the bezoar should buy her enough time to figure something out, she hoped.

"Whenever you've stuffed that down Malfoy's throat could you come here please?" Hermione called over her shoulder "I'm going to need some help"

Blaise and Nott helped her set up a small cauldron while Hermione poured through several medical texts for poison antidotes. Every few minutes one of them would go over to Malfoy and make sure he was still breathing and check his pulse. The bezoar seemed to have allowed him a brief respite from the poison's effects but he remained unconscious.

"Nott, do you know if there are any reserves of potion ingredients here? I'm almost out of lacewings and I'll need more for this antidote." Nott headed for the door but Hermione stopped him. "I'll come along, I'd like to see what we have at our disposal."

Nott sent a worried look at Malfoy's limp form. "He'll be fine, Zabini will be with him, and we'll be back in a minute." Hermione assured him. Nott reluctantly agreed. Before he opened the door he put his finger to his lips and took her hand once more.

The store room wasn't far, just down the passage. It was more of a walk in pantry than an actual room but there was enough space for both of them to stand back to back when Nott shut the door behind them.

They hurried back as soon as they had grabbed as much as they could carry, Nott balancing the jars he was carrying under his chin to be able to guide her through the passage. She wondered if he could somehow see in the dark or was just so familiar with the house they were in that he could navigate without sight.