A/n: Trigger warning; minor depictions of blood and violence...
Ch.32: The Pinnacle
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"...oh Gods..."
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"...please..."
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"...hang on...mione...""
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"...shh, it's alright. You'll be alright. Accio dittany—"
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"Potter, you need to uncuff me."
"F-fuck, it isn't working!"
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"She's losing too much blood," Draco stated as calmly as he could manage; all while the other wizard was rapidly unraveling.
Meanwhile, she could hardly hear them over the screams...
Her screams.
"Hang on, Hermione—" Harry was frantic in his movements to try and mend her. She knew her favorite blouse was ruined beyond repair but she could care less. The pain, the agony, the ringing in her ears. It tore through her limbs, hammering at her nerve endings until every inch of her felt.
Gods, she wanted to die.
"Potter."
"No. No, Hermione, come on. Stay with me." With every passing second, he sounded more desperate. His words turned into unanswered pleas. Her head turned left to see Draco trying to wrestle free from the cuffs.
When Harry pressed down on her midsection, she wanted to punch him.
I'd been splinched, she realized. A large one judging by the substantial blood loss. Not to mention the fact that Harry looked about ready to faint—
"Potter—"
"Just let me concentrate, Malfoy—"
She could hear the faint hum of a weak healing spell before it dissipated. Her vision began to blur.
"Her wound is too deep for dittany—"
Wound? Singular? All this blood was coming from one place?
"Oh gods, Hermione—" Harry was crying.
She remembered the last time she saw him cry. When he was saying goodbye, preparing to face his own death.
"Fucking hell, uncuff me!" Then there was Draco, baring an unmistakable growl she'd never heard from him before. A desperation she could feel in her bones if they weren't already quaking.
"I can't!" Harry yelled. "By direct order of the Auror office—"
"Seriously? You're choosing now to play by the rules?!"
"Piss off, Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "I have to stabilize her—"
"Reach into my trousers," Draco deadpanned.
Even she went silent.
"W-what? Absolutely not—!"
Gods, if only she could see how flustered Harry sounded.
"My trouser pocket, you idiot—oh, for fuck's sake—"
A sharp ching rang through the room. Followed by a loud thump of iron hitting the floor.
She felt Harry leave her side. She could hear scuffling. Grunting. Followed by another loud thud. Then the space to her left was filled once more before the rest of the world faded.
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It grew quiet.
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Sheer blackness.
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Utter silence.
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Tranquility.
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Until...
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A soft light glimmered...
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A warmth stirred...
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In the seconds that passed, the gentle caress of a powerful magic enveloped her.
A surge of an ancient purity coursed through her veins as it sought to repair what was broken.
As it weaved severed nerves and skin back together, her senses gradually returned.
First, a tingle.
Then a spark.
Faint, comforting scents brushed against her nostrils.
Old books...
Crisp cologne...
Full bodied, and robust—
Like the tea he drank in the mornings.
Her eyes cracked open, taking in the blurred pale, ragged figure. The relief that came with the realization of who was poised over her was short lived, for regaining consciousness and sensation meant she could feel again.
And feel, she did...
Everything. All at once.
Suddenly, the room filled with shrill, pained sobs.
"I know, my darling. I know," he crooned while pressing a warm palm to her forehead. Then he was muttering phrases that didn't really make sense but the intensity of the pain began to dampen. The surges increased in intensity as they spread further, faster, through her until the throbbing became more bearable. "Hang on for me, just a little longer." His soothing tones calmed her. Her focus became more clear. The blur subsided, allowing her to fixate on the one who held her steady. He'd discarded his robes and crimson red tainted his flawless skin.
She could vaguely hear Harry muttering his name in astonishment, but Draco didn't let up. The enchantments continued to pulse when he made the request to call for healers. Not a request—a command. Spoken with such vigor and authority, one would think he'd been training to be an Auror for years. Her eyes dragged over to see Harry slowly backing away, struggling to come to terms with what was occurring in front of him. It was only when Draco echoed the command with underlying urgency when Harry finally left the room.
As he exited, her eyes fell onto a pair of broken cuffs on the floor a few feet away. If she weren't utterly drained, she might have asked how he managed to break free from the restraints. Instead, she brought her attention to the green and silver tie dangling between them and thinking of him using it as a makeshift bandage. The prospect of him disrobing to cover her was so...unlike him. The outlandish thought brought a smile to her face.
And the stoic expression Draco bore only deepened her amusement.
"Is—is this where you start tearing off pieces of your shirt to bandage my wounds?" She fought the discomfort in her throat from speaking but the hint of a smirk he gave dampened the fleeting pain.
"If you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could have just asked," he provided, low and sensual.
She choked on a teary laugh, her throat dry and sore when she swallowed. The vibrations caused a dampness to trail down her cheeks.
"M'still mad at you."
His smile fell, wiping away the tears as though they were never there.
"I know, but I think you've had enough apologies for one day." He applied more pressure, her breathing steadied, as did her pulse. In focusing on him and the rhythmic thrum of magic running through her veins, the pain finally subsided. Though her body remained heavy like it didn't know how to process the trauma of an injury that no longer existed.
Rapid footsteps behind them indicated Harry had returned. She could already feel Draco tense up. "Healers are nearly here. We have to go." The blond shot him a glare, as if daring him to try and pull him away but Harry continued. "She'll stand a better chance the sooner she gets to a hospital."
Despite the evident disdain directed at her friend, he went to stand. A hand shot upwards to grab his tie, pulling him back down with remarkable strength. Dumbfounded, Draco's eyes widened slightly and Harry held his breath, stilling completely.
"Draco," she said, low with ire in her rasp. "The moment I've recovered—"
Removing her hand, he cradled it between his own. His grip was delicate, but firm. As were his next words.
"I'll tell you everything," he assured, pressing his lips to the back of her hand as if to seal a promise. "But for now," she hardly noticed the empty vial tucked into her grasp before it was laid to rest on her chest. Within seconds, the room flooded with a team of healers. "Stay awake," he whispered.
And so she did.
She stayed awake when he stepped back, standing with Harry and watching helplessly from the side as the healers assessed.
She stayed awake when the surroundings vanished and the ceilings of St. Mungos came to view.
She stayed awake when multiple healers circled her to complete their evaluations.
She stayed awake until a harmonic incantation reached her ears, carrying her into the darkness once more.
"What the hell happened? Whose blood is that?" Ron demanded, eyeing their forms when they entered the empty Auror offices. Both were disheveled and unsettled and utterly drenched in blood. Unharmed save for the purpling bruise on Harry's forehead opposite his scar.
"Change of plans," Harry exhaled, raking his hand through his wildly distressed hair. "Where's Robards?"
"Out investigating another case. He should be back any minute."
"Good. Come with me. Now." Dragging the re-cuffed wizard along, they made a beeline for their shared office. Ron locked the door while Harry silenced the room. Meanwhile, Draco planted himself in a chair, pressing his head into his palms and apparently lacking the energy he possessed before.
"Oi, that's my chair—!"
Harry held out a hand, gesturing for Ron to silence his complaints. Instead, he slowly approached the blond.
"Malfoy."
He didn't budge.
"Are you alright?" He placed a hand on his shoulder but Draco reeled back, the veins in his neck protruding. Eyes lit ablaze with hateful fire. Fuming.
"Don't. Fucking. Touch me," he hissed, seething.
"Malfoy—" Harry tried but Ron gave a low-whistle.
"Getting caught got your knickers all in a twist, hasn't it?"
"Ron," Harry warned.
Ignoring him, Draco turned to face Ron with mischievous-riddled eyes and a smirk that often meant trouble.
"You'd turn in your grave if you knew about the knickers I've twisted, Weasley." Misinterpreting Harry's sudden paleness, Ron tsked with distaste.
"You've gotten sloppy, mate," Ron jeered as he looked up and down at his blood soaked clothes. To which, Harry finally gained the sense to scourgify their clothes. "Don't worry, we'll sort you out and you'll be with daddy dearest soon—"
"Ron, enough," Harry scolded. Gods, he never thought he'd see the day he'd be defending Malfoy of all people. Neither did Ron as he tossed his work partner a perplexed glance.
If this were anything like their days in school, he would have anticipated more relentless taunts. Boasts of saving a life when a trained professional couldn't. Yet as their childhood nemesis sat before him, weakened and incapacitated, it couldn't feel any more different.
"But he's right. It doesn't look good for you. We'll need your wand for testing—" To which, the blond scoffed derisively.
"Don't bother," he admitted firmly. "I killed Claire."
Harry's mouth dropped with disbelief.
"Malfoy, did you not hear what I said—"
"I did. Loud and abhorrently clear," Draco dispelled lowly. "Except I don't particularly care for what you have to say when all I can think about is throttling you. Now I suggest you take me in before I do something I won't regret."
"Finally, something halfway decent that comes out of your mouth," Ron exclaimed far too cheerfully before being halted by Harry once again.
"Wait. Not yet—"
Ron and Draco glared at him, both out of incredulity and annoyance.
"Harry, what gives?! We've been working on this case for months—"
"I know, I'm just...trying to make sense of all this." His instincts and a persistent tug in his gut told him there was something important that Malfoy wasn't telling him. Perhaps it had to do with why he kept this from Hermione if they were as close as he suspected them to be.
It seemed Draco could sense that very hesitance in his gaze.
"I bet you've been hoping it was me," he goaded with a sneer. "I felt you following me all throughout Sixth, trying to meddle and stick your nose where it doesn't belong. But then again, you're the chosen one; the hero everyone cherishes no matter how many rules he breaks...the perfect Auror." Something in his taunting tone caught Harry's attention. "Surely the Ministry will love this. The sole heir of two ancient families who harbored ties to one of the darkest wizards in wizarding history in your clutches. The youngest Death Eater ever inducted. Well, you have me," Draco held out his cuffed wrists for emphasis, "so what, in the ever loving fuck, are you waiting f—"
"I was in the tower when Dumbledore died, Malfoy." Beyond the momentary confusion, he could have sworn something flickered in his expression for a split second. "I've stared at enough cold-blooded murderers in the eyes to know you aren't one. If there was another reason, o-or if you were being coerced, then all we need is a pensieve and—"
"No." Draco said plainly. Firmly. If he was annoyed before, he was positively livid now. "Turn me in. Get your marks and your promotion or whatever it is you want and stop prodding."
"Why."
"Why don't you be a good little Auror and follow the rules for once?"
"Being an Auror is not that simple, you know." The blond gave a derisive scoff and Harry's jaw clenched as he met his glare. "Do you know what actually goes into tracking down dark wizards? It's having to understand and predict their movements. It's constantly keeping secrets and making sacrifices for—"
"—for the sake of protecting your loved ones," Draco interjected smoothly, startling both Harry and Ron. "You're also trained to adapt, to expect the unexpected, whereas you," he emphasized pointedly, "lost your fucking head."
"What are you on about?" Ron questioned, outraged.
"Ask your partner."
Instinctively, Ron turned to face Harry, his confusion only deepening when Harry barked back. "I'm not entirely at fault here! If you hadn't been elusive with her in the first place—"
"You refused to listen. First, to her, then me when I said I could help," Draco shot back, bracing himself on the desk as he stood, slowly stalking closer to Harry who held his ground.
"You have to give me more than 'reach into your trousers'—"
Moderately disturbed, Ron could only spectate as they continued going at each other's throats.
"She was dying! I can't explain everything to you with a life on the line. All because of your error in judgement—"
"I was caught off guard! I deviated—"
"You panicked. What's more, you wasted precious minutes playing the bloody hero—"
"I was trying to save her—"
"—and it nearly cost her fucking life," Draco concluded in a low snarl.
Their chests were heaving as they stared the other down. Angry breaths covered the moments of stunned silence.
Meanwhile, Ron grew weary as he slowly absorbed their words.
"Whose blood is that?" he repeated.
Draco looked at Harry expectantly but that was not at all what was at the forefront of the latter's mind. He hadn't been trying to rile him up, nor did he expect to gain such a blatant confession. Instead, he'd been caught up in his remarks. His reactions. His peculiarly placed anger. His horror when their friend hit the floor in nearly two pieces. His desperation when her life was fading right before their eyes. Then there was Hermione. His fierce and loyal friend spoke up for him. Defended him. Put herself in harm's way...
For him.
There'd been a prickling thought lingering in the back of his head for a while now. Where it lay dormant out of hope and desperation that it would never require addressing. That its existence was a result of his paranoia. Like his scar that would burn out of nowhere, but always for a reason. But now, he knew there was no avoiding it any longer. He had to know. Before he could get the chance to ask, an elder voice boomed through the walls.
"Robards," Ron realized.
The heavy footsteps were enough to spur Harry into action. "Quick, get him to booking and make sure Sparrow doesn't see him," he gestured to Malfoy, whose contempt grew with every word being said. Harry knew it had nothing to do with his impending fate, but everything to do with leaving a certain witch behind. "Make sure he gets water." He gave him a look over. "And some chocolate—"
"What?"
"I'm fine—"
Ignoring their respective exclamations, Harry turned to Ron. "Hold him down if you have to," he demanded sharply. The last thing he needed was to send another body to the hospital. Then there was the fact that if he was correct in his suspicions, Hermione would surely kill him once she woke up...
Just before they exited the room, Harry called for him. The world stood still when earnest green met striking silver.
Only for the one bearing green didn't know what to say. Despite his nemesis breaking free of his restraints and knocking him prone and breaking a dozen rules sure to lengthen his impending sentence, Malfoy managed to do what he as an Auror could not. Ultimately, he saved a life and it raised a dozen more questions he feared would never be answered. An unspoken conversation was had while Ron's eyes darted between them.
"I'll find you when I know something," Harry decided. "I swear it."
Once a tense moment had passed, he received a firm nod from Draco before they left. This gave Harry mere seconds to spare before Robards came rushing in, his eyes wide as he took in his ruffled up appearance.
"What in Merlin's name happened?" Closing the door, his attention narrowed in on the nasty patch of purple on his brow. "The Malfoy boy put up that much of a fight?"
Harry winced. He'd almost forgotten about the fresh facer Malfoy gave him. "Something like that." The guilt began to gnaw at him as Malfoy's words settled in.
You panicked.
"Everything alright, Potter? You seem a bit put out."
Harry swallowed deeply, a discomfort making itself apparent.
"There was...a complication."
April 3, 1999
"So, let me see if I've got this straight," Ron tread slowly, a crease forming on his brow. "You came to apprehend Malfoy yesterday, without me or any backup to assist, entirely against protocol, mind you. Then somehow, Hermione got in the way and got herself splinched when you tried to apparate."
Harry unleashed a deep, heavy sigh while Ron examined Hermione closely. It had been an eventful morning thus far. First, they stopped at St. Mungos who informed them that she'd been transferred to Hogwarts since she didn't have any treatable wounds. To which, Harry insisted otherwise but the healers told him to see for himself. Except from the moment they arrived, he was hardly able to look at her. "I've already told you. It was supposed to be a simple operation!"
"And I'm supposed to be your bloody partner!"
"The less attention drawn to us, the better."
"And Hermione?"
"I...hadn't anticipated her being an issue." Yet another fault in the execution of yesterday's events.
"It's Hermione, Harry! She's known for meddling!" Ron cried. "What was she doing with Malfoy in the first place?"
Clearly that was the wrong thing to ask.
"Can we focus on the fact that she's alive and breathing right now?!" Harry near-shouted, his chest heaving and Ron muttered a soft sorry. "No, I'm sorry Ron. It's just..." he forced down the wave of nausea that surged the moment he spared her a glance. It hadn't even been twenty four hours since he watched her be taken away. Since he had her blood on his hands and saw the life fade from her eyes however temporarily. "You don't know how close we were to losing her."
If he didn't know any better, he'd assume she was sleeping. If the vivid image of her innards spilling out of her body didn't remain permanently embedded in his mind, that is.
"Harry?" His shoulders tensed up at the sound of a familiar voice before turning to face their approaching company. She'd thrown her arms around him before he could process what was happening.
"Ginny." He gave her a tired smile, but accepted her embrace all the same.
"Thank goodness you got here so fast. I wrote to you as soon as I heard." Harry went rigid in her hold. "She was just brought in this morning. McGonagall told me but she doesn't know what happened. I haven't seen Madam Pomfrey yet."
Still, he kept the truth under wraps. Until he knew something first. "Ditched the snakes, have you?"
Ginny's jaw clenched, deciding to focus on Hermione's unmoving figure. "They'll be here soon."
Ron scoffed. "Some friends."
"They've been trying to find Malfoy all morning," she admitted. "They think something's happened."
The pair of wizards shared a glance. Picking up on their silence, Ginny crossed her arms with a glare.
"Something you'd like to share?"
"Ginny, Malfoy's been taken in by the Ministry." After a few moments, he wasn't sure what to make of her stern expression.
"You have to help him," she insisted.
Stunned, Harry attempted to respond but Ron cut in, "Since when do you give a rat's arse about Malfoy?"
With her chin held high, she crossed her arms.
"Believe it or not, Blondie and I are friends."
"Blondie?" Ron echoed with disbelief. "Are you mad? He's in custody right now for a war crime—"
"We were in the middle of a war, Ron! Mum killed Bellatrix right in front of us in case you've forgotten. Hermione even told me about the time you almost did Dolohov—"
"That was different," Ron objected weakly, and Ginny silenced him with a glare.
"While you've been gallivanting around with the Ministry, Hermione and I have been getting to know them. Whatever the case, I'm willing to bet he had his reasons. If you don't believe me, just ask Hermione. Well...when she wakes up."
"Hermione?" Ron echoed before turning to Harry. "You had her stalk him, didn't you?"
"No, I didn't." A part of him wished Ron's assumptions were accurate. They were far less difficult to stomach compared to what was likely the truth.
"I-I don't understand. She'd rather die than be anywhere near that git," he muttered with disbelief. And that was when Harry realized Hermione had kept all information pertaining to her developing ties to Malfoy from Ron. For this exact reason. "What could Hermione possibly know that you couldn't tell us yourself? Being as you're acquainted with the likes of him and all."
"Honestly, it's like we aren't even related." Ginny muttered to Harry while rolling her eyes, catching the tail end of Harry's shaky exhale.
Ron's suspicious gaze darted between the two of them as they waited with bated breath. Waiting for the pen in the air to drop like a bomb. An explosive, deadly bomb that could shatter the very fabric of their beings.
They could pinpoint the exact moment it clicked in his head when his jaw fell open. Then closed back up. He let out a halfhearted chuckle. Followed by another, until suddenly the room was filled with loud, uncomfortable laughter.
"Ha. Haha. HA. HAHAHA you're fucking mental!" They watched with pity in their eyes as the forced laughter faded and was replaced with denial. "Y-you can't be serious. S-she, she isn't. Absolutely not! She wouldn't, Hermione would never get involved with someone the likes of him," he stated with wavering confidence. "Tell her Harry."
The wizard however, was silent. Ron watched helplessly as Ginny shook her head in disbelief.
"You've known all along, haven't you?"
Harry braced himself to state the words he'd been dreading to be true. "I...had suspicions, but I wasn't certain until yesterday," he said, tiredly rubbing his eyes and looking like he aged a decade in the last 24 hours.
"Bloody hell..." Ron grimaced. "How serious is it?"
"Yes, Ginevra. How serious is it?"
Ginny could feel the moment her stomach dropped when she faced the identical irate and betrayed expressions of Theo and Blaise.
"I-I can explain—" Ginny began.
Harry stared at her, unblinking. "Did...did he just call you Ginevra? And live?"
"How long?" Blaise questioned, eerily still.
"Blaise—"
"Don't 'Blaise' me," he hissed. "How. Fucking. Long."
"I-I don't know the exact date," she attempted lamely.
"Weasley." Theo demanded softly but his vexation was evident. In Ginny's opinion, it was worse than being yelled at. Especially when she took note of the lively bouquet now held limply at his side as this dreadful conversation prepared to unfold.
"Since the start of term."
If it was possible, Blaise's expression darkened.
"Ginny—" Harry attempted, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Months?" Theo muttered, completely hollow.
Ron looked like he wanted to throw himself out of a tower.
"You..." Blaise drew coldly. "You knew this whole fucking time!" Both Harry and Ron stepped in when his volume rose.
"Don't yell at her," Harry demanded, trying to place himself between them before Ginny stopped him in place, an annoyed expression taking over.
"I can fend for myself," she declared boldly, turning to glare at Blaise. "I only found out by chance. It's not my fault Malfoy asked me to guard the abandoned classroom he dragged her in to snog her senseless—"
Ron and Harry looked physically ill while Theo muttered, "So that's why people have been using them lately." When everyone shot him incredulous looks, his jaw tightened. "Just making an observation."
"She didn't tell me, either," Ron pronounced.
"You, of all people, don't get to judge," Harry snapped harshly and Ron's mouth closed shut. Ginny's attention narrowed in on her brother.
"What is he talking about?" She demanded.
"It's not important," Ron blurted, glaring at Harry.
"You're really doing this?" Ginny gave his shoulder a hard shove, brown eyes sharpening into daggers. "Hermione's in a coma and you're still trying to hide shit?"
"It's not important," he echoed, equipping his 'older sibling tone.' "Meanwhile, I'm still trying to process the fact that my little sister knew our best mate has been snogging the enemy this whole time!"
Rubbing her temple, she let out an exhausted sigh, "It wasn't my secret to share, Ron. She's a grown woman who can make her own decisions—"
"And look where that got her!" He gestured to Hermione's form between them. Ginny quickly turned on him.
"You don't get to pretend like you have any idea of what's been going on between them," she hissed angrily.
"W-what about that bloke you tried setting her up with?" He pleaded desperately. "Clark or something?"
Ginny's demeanor soured instantly.
"Clegg is vile and was a huge mistake on my part." Ginny glanced over to Hermione. "She would agree if she could."
"She thought the same about Malfoy not long ago! He's probably just been using her for his reputation—"
"Watch it, Weasley," Theo warned. "That's our best mate you're spouting off about."
"And that's mine lying in that bloody cot! So sorry if I hate the idea of her being involved with the person who treated her like scum for years!"
Cautiously, Harry stepped into the middle of their makeshift circle. "Alright, maybe let's not start this in the middle of the hospital—"
"And you!" Ron turned on him. "What do you mean you had suspicions?!"
"It was only a hunch!" Harry defended.
"You could have said something!" Ron blurted hysterically. "You could have mentioned it and—"
"And what, Ron?"
Flustered and scrambling for an appropriate response, Ron merely huffed. "Maybe we should have told her about the case."
"You bloody well know we weren't allowed to." To which, Blaise let out a scoff.
"Thought the Chosen One would have found a way around the rules with the way you constantly broke them in school."
Despite the obvious taunt, Harry couldn't help but fixate on his remark for a different reason.
"Malfoy mentioned something similar to me," he recalled. "He even knew the code of conduct better than Ron did when we tested."
Ignoring Ron's shout of protest, Theo spoke up.
"That isn't surprising. Draco's secretly fancied becoming an Auror for a while now." All their heads turned abruptly with the exception of Blaise, and he smirked in response. "Funny how the more Lucius made him look into Auror interrogation tactics, the more fascinated Draco was by them." Harry blinked at him when he met his gaze. "I know you all have your qualms, but he does have good in him. At least Granger recognizes it."
Harry and Ron froze. As did Ginny.
"She did seem put out, didn't she?" Theo supplemented, scratching his head. "And I'm fairly certain she hasn't been calling him 'Draco' this whole time—"
"Only when she's distressed," Ginny muttered, gradually piecing it together before facing her very own life partner who turned noticeably pale. "Harry, who placed Malfoy's arrest?"
Both Theo and Blaise turned to her with matching expressions. First shock. Then horror.
"Robards made the order—"
"That's not what I'm asking," she interrupted. "Who carried out the order?"
Dejected, he sighed. "I did."
All eyes turned to him. Even Ron's sympathetic ones.
"Was Hermione with him?"
"She was," he confirmed quietly.
"You arrested him in front of her," Ginny concluded, her hands tightly clenched at her sides.
"She didn't give me another option," he argued. "I had a job to do."
"And she fought back, didn't she?" Her eyes narrowed on him, making him feel oddly small.
"It was an accident—"
"You've hardly looked at her since getting here." She was visibly shaking with anger, backing away slowly when her eyes began to sting. "You're the reason why she's in that bed."
"Gin...no. Ginny wait," Harry attempted, but before he could say more, Ginny swiftly exited the room without a second glance back.
Harry made to go after her before he was stopped abruptly by a stern grip on his arm. He turned to see Blaise giving him a firm glare.
They remained at a stalemate until Harry finally ceded. And with a clenched jaw and drawn out sigh, he watched Blaise's retreating figure as he headed after her. Ron and Theo examined Harry with identical, cautious expressions.
"What?" Harry barked.
They shared a glance and Ron excused himself to call a friend. Leaving Theo, Harry and an unresponsive Hermione alone in the wing.
"Weasley—" Blaise attempted once he caught up to her.
Ignoring him, she began to pace and wiped away the angry tears. Somehow they found themselves in the middle of the courtyard alone. The clear skies and birds happily chirping were a deep contrast to the storm brewing internally.
"You know, running away is more of a Slytherin thing—"
"Stop. I just, I need a moment to think," she huffed, bracing herself on a nearby tree next to a stone bench. "I can't believe Harry did this. I always knew he was committed to his job but..." Her temple throbbed, and her limbs began to shake. "Oh Gods, Hermione—" The moment her voice broke, Blaise tugged by the arm, pulling her close when the pent up anger spilled over into anguish.
"She's going to be fine," he assured reverently, rubbing soothing circles into her back.
"And Malfoy—" she protested.
Blaise shook his head. "There's nothing you could have done."
Through her despair, confusion began to arise.
"I...I don't understand. Aren't you upset with me?"
"I am, but that's not the priority right now."
"You came after me to get a rise out of Harry, didn't you?"
After a moment's beat, he spoke.
"I won't say the thought didn't cross my mind," he quipped smugly. "Though I think your boyfriend already feels like shit plenty."
She gave a teary smile. "Even the Chosen One needs to be humbled every now and then."
Impressed, he chuckled. "You really are becoming one of us."
Pulling back, she wiped away the residual dampness with the back of her sleeve.
"Merlin, it's awful. I honestly don't know how Hermione puts up with it."
"The shagging, obviously."
With a loud groan of detestation, she shoved him away entirely before sitting down on the adjacent bench.
"You're disgusting," she remarked. To which, he shot her a proud grin.
""I did tell you, one round is all it would take." Once his declaration settled, the grin disappeared and he groaned in annoyance. "They've already fucked, haven't they?"
Ginny nodded in sympathy, recalling how enthusiastic he and Theo had been for their friends' improved relations despite not being aware of its extent. "You were right though. He's apparently quite good."
Taking a seat next to her, he released a disbelieving scoff. "Guess that explains why he's been occluding around us."
"What an arse," she huffed.
"You're telling me."
They sat in silence for a moment. Taking in the blissful quiet before inevitably having to face the bitterness of reality.
"They did want to tell, you know," Ginny shared. "But after Astoria—" he stopped her.
"I get it, Weasley. Granger's perspective, at least. What's frustrating is Draco and his...self-destructive tendencies," he gritted out.
Baffled, Ginny stared blankly at Blaise's admission. At how open he seemed willing to be. Then it hit her. For months, Hermione didn't know the truth. Not like the others closest to him did.
"Tell me what you know," she implored, somewhat fearful of the answer. Without hesitation, he spoke.
"To my knowledge, it was a mercy killing." She'd never heard him speak this way before; so solemn and serious. What's more, to have confirmation of what Malfoy had done...she could only imagine how Hermione would take the whole truth. "He stumbled upon her during a raid and she was already well on her way to death. Albeit, a slow and painful one."
Still, her befuddlement didn't fade.
"But, I don't understand. Why didn't he just admit it during the trial? Surely the Ministry would have given him a pardon, we were in the middle of a war! If anything, he'd just have to prove that it w—"
"He can't."
Stunned by his abruptness, she tread cautiously.
"You mean he refuses?"
"No," the evident distress in his tone made her heart ache, "I mean he can't."
Once Ron left, Harry slid into a chair next to Hermione and avoided looking at either her or Theo. Meanwhile, Theo finally got around to placing his bouquet of yellow roses in a makeshift vase by her bedside. Standing next to her, he brushed his fingers along the top of a still hand before settling on her wrist. There lay a strong, firm pulse. He fought a smile as he stared down.
"She's going to be alright, you know."
At his remark, Harry turned his head, finally letting his eyes drift to where Theo was monitoring her pulse before falling upon Hermione once more. Now that the truth was out, the reprieve was only temporary. After witnessing Ginny's reaction, he had to accept the very real possibility that his best friend wouldn't want anything to do with him once she woke up.
"She shouldn't be in that cot to begin with," Harry muttered in self-loathing.
With a watchful eye on her, Theo remained steady. Unwavering yet, attentively listening. And for some reason, it gave Harry the motivation to keep speaking.
"Sometimes she's too damn quick for her own good and I don't know what goes through her head half the time, but," his eyes began to sting. "she's the most brilliant person I've ever known." He swallowed at Hermione's stillness. Breathtakingly beautiful and at peace and alive. Yet, seeing her this way tore at every fibre of his conscience. "I think of her like my family." His breathing grew rapid and uneven. "I've never seen her look at me the way she did yesterday." He let out a harsh laugh. "Like I was the one who broke her heart. Malfoy had committed an actual crime, but me...I'd done something far worse..." he trailed off, wiping at his face.
"Potter," Theo attempted with uncertainty.
"I've felt her slipping for a while now. Ever since Sixth." Theo didn't provide any sort of acknowledgement on whether or not the same was true for Draco. "I suspected it. Denied it. I should have seen it coming. The way she was so...defensive over him. I've never seen her like that before. Not even with Ron."
"Potter, maybe I'm not the best person to—" Theo attempted again but Harry shook his head, almost violently.
"I've been so focused on this one, singular goal," he emphasized with shaky hands. Holding them out in front as if this goal had been some form of tangible object. "It was our first real assignment. We were so close to closing the case and finally giving the family closure so I didn't give it another thought. But as I apparated, she latched on, and I could feel the spell...ripping at her." He could see Theo still in his peripheral. Gods, he was losing it in front of a complete stranger.
Not stranger, he corrected. An...acquaintance, perhaps.
"I was in a similar position last term, you know." Harry's eyes lifted to Theo who stared at him earnestly. No pity. No judgement. Only understanding.
Of course he hadn't forgotten. He was present when Theo had to undergo one interrogation after another. Hounded with countless accusations of a potion of his creation being utilized to injure or maim as intentional. How unnecessary the entire process was when all it took was one glance and Harry knew it hadn't been intentional. How it must have eaten him up from the inside.
"I...I didn't mean—"
Theo shrugged it off.
"We're past it now. Historically speaking, Draco's far less forgiving than Granger. I imagine you'll be alright."
Harry snorted. "You'd be surprised. Hermione can be relentless."
"He's stubborn as hell."
"She can hold a mean grudge."
"She befriended us, didn't she?" Theo prompted. He made a good point. Several good points, actually.
"Still, I wish I'd known about them and their—" he trailed off with uncertainty.
"Wallowing over what-ifs won't get you anywhere but deeper in your bottomless pit of self-pity and guilt. A concept we snakes are very familiar with." He shot him a handsome grin, winking.
Impressed, Harry fought a flush at the display of emotional mindfulness. "Her judgement about you lot wasn't misplaced."
The grin quickly morphed into a smirk. "She talked about us?"
"Frequently. Though clearly there was much she left unspoken in her letters," he concluded with a hint of skepticism.
"Don't worry. Once she's awake, we'll get them back for this," Theo vowed and Harry found himself admiring the sincerity in his claim. "Traditionally, we don't hold grudges but one thing you'll learn about us as a collective is that payback is a massive bitch."
This time, Harry's lips twitched upwards.
"Think I should like to join you on that."
Theo grinned widely, opening his mouth to respond just as someone entered the wing.
"Good morning, Mister Nott." He gave a brief nod in greeting. "Ah, Potter! Or should I say Auror Potter?" Madam Pomfrey approached him, swiftly pulling him into a hand armed hug with fresh, new bottles in hand.
"Heavens, no. I'm still in training." Harry chuckled nervously, meeting Theo's gaze over her shoulder who gave him an encouraging smile.
"Well all good Aurors must start somewhere. Especially the ones who are so loyal to their friends." Pulling back, she smiled in earnest while stepping up to Hermione's bedside and distributing a few diagnostic charms.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Madam Pomfrey." His smile was strained but she didn't seem to notice. "How is she?"
"Well, from what I can tell, there's not any visible damage on her body. But from my understanding, there was substantial healing done prior to her arrival at St. Mungos. Certainly well before she arrived here this morning. Whether it was a powerful spell or a rare potion or a combination of the two, I'm not entirely sure. Though this was found on her person." She unpocketed an empty vial and held it out for Harry to take.
The same vial Malfoy told him to extract from his trousers.
He nodded in acknowledgement, realizing he hadn't checked her wounds like the healers at St. Mungos instructed him to.
"If she's physically well, why hasn't she woken up?"
"The damage inflicted was not exclusively physical. During my examinations, I felt a sort of...hindrance from within. An invisible barrier, if you will. Whatever ordeal Miss Granger endured not only imposed physical harm, but also shattered her spirit in the process. Unfortunately, this is something no medicine or spell can heal."
Harry's hopefulness rapidly deflated with each word. If what Madam Pomfrey said was true, if the damage went deeper than what had been physically done, then something broke in her before they apparated.
"I've placed her in a magically induced coma which she will awaken from when she is ready." The Healer inspected her wand and the results from the diagnostic scans. "By the looks of it, she should be up and about in a matter of days," she assured, sensing Harry's distress and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away.
Once he and Theo were alone, he lowered her blanket to her abdomen and to Theo's dismay, began to lift her gown just enough to bare her midsection.
"Er Potter, what are you doing...?"
Much to his surprise, and Theo's obvious discomfort, there wasn't any evidence that she'd been brutally sliced open a day prior. Despite having seen how she became responsive after Malfoy's ministrations, it didn't seem possible with how rapidly she was fading in his arms. Now that he saw her up close, another thought came to him. He transitioned his attention to her arm, sliding a tentative finger across her skin to check for the presence of a glamour. Much to his surprise when there was a lack of raised, scarred skin.
This time, he couldn't withhold his bewilderment.
"Harry? Mate, what's the matter?" Theo questioned upon his sudden stillness.
"It's gone. How did he..." Harry muttered with dubiety, holding up the vial in the air, "this isn't possib—"
"Oi! I hope you have consent for that!" A sudden, loud voice caused them both to stumble and jerk back from where they towered over Hermione. Panicked, Harry quickly readjusted her gown and threw the covers back into place. They sighed out of relief when they turned to see Ginny and Blaise approaching them. Neither of them were visibly angry but not particularly happy either. If anything, they appeared disconcerted.
"Ah. You two kissed and made up then?" Theo quipped boldly.
They shared a communicating glare before shrugging.
"Something like that," Ginny decided. "What's that?" She gestured to the vial in his hand.
Tightening his hold around the glass, he braced himself. "There's something else I haven't mentioned." With the chorus of loud, annoyed groans amongst the group, he quickly clarified. "I've been trying to make sense of it myself! Hermione was on the brink of death and Malfoy...stabilized her somehow. With whatever was in this vial."
Ginny took it from him, observing it closely but it'd been completely cleaned of any residue.
"Unicorn blood?" Blaise suggested.
"I doubt she would look this lively if it were unicorn blood. I also don't recall him making her drink anything," Harry noted. They stood around for a moment. Collectively pondering.
"Madam Pomfrey said it could be a rare potion" Theo offered. "Maybe he brewed something."
Blaise's eyes lit up. "Draco mentioned brewing a healing potion earlier last term," he supplied. "But then he got paired with Granger."
All three of them came to the same conclusion.
"The potion child!" They exclaimed in unison while Harry stared at them with a quizzical expression.
"I don't follow."
"Our potions assignment. They were assigned as partners," Ginny started.
"Slughorn didn't even have it on his list initially. It's supposed to be incredibly tedious to make," Theo continued.
"Oh fuck, what did he call it?" Blaise mumbled, struggling to think, "Sona, Sela something—"
"Sana Vulnere, perhaps?"
Four heads turned at once to see Ron entering the wing. Along with another familiar face in tow.
"Professor Slughorn." Harry looked positively relieved. "How did you know we were here?"
"I was on my way to my stores when I ran into Windlebee here," he gestured to Ron who gave a weak smile.
"Windlebee?" Theo mouthed. Blaise snickered and Ron sent them both death glares.
"Dare I ask about the sudden interest in this potion?" Though once he got close enough and saw exactly who they were crowding around, he seemed to understand. "Ah, I see. Where were her wounds?"
"Her abdomen," Harry began, realizing that may not be the most appropriate. "But she had Bellatrix's curse on her arm—"
"May I?" he gestured to the space Harry occupied beside her. Harry stepped back while Slughorn examined her arm carefully. "My my. A devout student, indeed," he muttered in awe as he placed her arm back down. "Sana Vulnere is no average potion. I shall spare the details for the sake of time but due to the nature of the potion, each brew can only be used on a specific person. In the instance of their assignment, it was usable for Mister Malfoy only." As seconds passed, comprehension gradually spread amongst the group.
"He brewed another one for her," Theo supplied.
"Which is no small feat, mind you," Slughorn emphasized. "To craft such a potion requires much patience and selflessness. On its own, it can eradicate even the deepest, oldest scars but larger, fatal wounds would require a greater source of power. At its highest potency, it can be a sort of conjugate between wizards."
Malfoy's fatigued state rang fresh in Harry's mind.
"His magic," he realized. "He could amplify its effects but would weaken himself in the process."
Slughorn nodded with a proud grin. "It seems our Mister Malfoy cares for Miss Granger a great deal, indeed." He looked around, frowning at the lack of someone's presence. "In fact, I'm rather surprised to see he isn't here. They've been practically inseparable since the start of term."
At that, Theo and Blaise kicked themselves for not realizing the truth sooner. Ginny was simply speechless. All the while, Harry and Ron shared a somewhat remorseful glance.
"We're working on that," Harry expressed, mentally fatigued. "Thank you for your insight, Professor."
Biding his farewell, Slughorn left them alone once more. Harry slumped into a chair and leaned forward, burying his head in his palms as everything he'd learned in the past few hours began to sink in.
"Harry?" Ron implored cautiously after a moment.
His response came out muffled.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this. Like, this might actually kill me to say, but," Ron swallowed before forcing out the rest of his statement, "I think we need to talk to Malfoy again."
Straightening his posture from the heaviness weighing down his shoulders, Harry's gaze traveled about the silent room. From drifting between his friends' pleading gazes to landing on Hermione's unresponsive figure, he knew what they had to do.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, I think you're right."