Chapter Text
Her Saturday evening was supposed to be dedicated to finishing up the remainder of her Charms homework, not standing stiffly in the corner of the Hospital Wing as one of her peers teetered on the edge of death.
The space in front of her was alight with different colors as Madam Pomfrey cast spell after spell; blue for healing, green for diagnostics, white for summoning, red for sanitation. Professor Snape whirled around the bed as well, using his extensive knowledge of Dark magic to assist in the revival. Draco Malfoy certainly had been hit with enough of it by the time Hermione had stumbled upon him.
She tried not to think about it, but in the recesses of her mind she could still hear the mad cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange. When she closed her eyes she could see Malfoy’s face, silently pleading for the torture to end. Her mind was momentarily relieved when she heard a soft voice speak up from beside her.
“Is there anything we can do to help, Poppy?” Madam Pomfrey looked up briefly at the Headmaster before shaking her head dejectedly,
“I’m afraid there isn’t much left to do, Albus. We healed what we could but the boy is in a catatonic state now. It’s the best outcome given his injuries.”
“Is it a result of the curses he was afflicted with?”
“It doesn’t appear to be a form of stasis caused by a curse. Most likely this is Mr. Malfoy’s body trying to cope with the egregious amount of trauma he had endured.” The room fell silent after Professor Snape’s addition. None of them truly knew the extent of his injuries.
“Do you need us for anything else?” The Headmaster decided to break the silence, but the exhausted nurse just shook her head.
“Nothing here. But if someone could go and… well, inform the boy’s parents.” Her voice trailed off lightly towards the end.
“Of course, we’ll use the Floo Network in my office.” Both the Headmaster and Professor Snape swept from the room, leaving only Hermione, Madam Pomfrey, and the unconscious Malfoy. Pomfrey seemed surprised when she noticed the young woman.
“You’re still here, Miss Granger?” Hermione nodded before walking towards the sickbed. The smell of sweat, blood, and magical energy hung heavy overhead.
“Is he going to be alright?” She asked almost hesitantly, as though she weren’t allowed to know.
“For now his life isn’t in any immediate danger. I suppose that constitutes ‘alright’. It’s still up in the air if he will truly recover though.” There was sadness in the nurses’ eyes as she looked back down at the blonde boy.
“We aren’t entirely familiar with the Muggle concept of a coma. There’s usually some spell or potion to deal with an unconscious wizard but this is far from anything the wizarding world has had many dealings with.” It almost pained her to speak those words. To acknowledge the failings of the institution that prided itself on health and wellness.
“He will ultimately have to wake up on his own… All we can do is hope and make him comfortable.”
Hermione was silent after that while the nurse bustled around, trying to clean up the area to give the appearance that Malfoy hadn’t just been at death’s door. When she was finished, she brought the young witch a cup of freshly made tea.
“Are you sure that you’re alright, Miss Granger? You never specified if you were hit or not.”
“Thank you, but yes, I’m quite fine. I would have remembered being hit by anything that woman could throw at me.” She neglected to mention a few bruises but in this scenario, it hardly mattered. Malfoy was in a coma, so Hermione could live with a little pain.
“They didn’t even manage to catch her… Didn’t even notice her arrival! I swear the Ministry just grows more and more incompetent as the years go on.” Madam Pomfrey ranted as she checked and rechecked the boy’s vitals.
“Could I… Could I stay here a little longer, Madam?” Hermione had lowered herself into the chair next to Malfoy’s bed and eyed the motionless boy before looking back up at the nurse.
“Of course dearie. But don’t stay too long, you need your rest as well.” Her face softened in that matronly way that Hermione always felt at ease with before she bustled away again, leaving the two students alone with one another.
Hermione couldn’t help but brush a stray strand of hair out of Malfoy’s face. She knew that if he were awake, he’d do it himself. His hair always had to look impeccable, she thought pensively.
By the time she figured she should be heading back, Hermione realized she hadn’t even spoken to her friends about what had happened. The whole school probably knew something was amiss, but if Hermione’s name had been mentioned, she was sure her friends would be in a tizzy over it.
Then again, they hadn’t come to the ward to find her or seek information. Perhaps she hadn’t been associated with the incident yet.
Her thoughts trailed off as she stood from her chair. If one believed in such a thing, it was a miracle that Malfoy was even alive. If Hermione hadn’t stumbled upon him when she did, he very well could have been dead.
She eyed the unconscious body once more before emitting a soft sigh. At least he was alive. That was all that mattered. Madam Pomfrey suggested he’d wake up in his own time which gave Hermione some semblance of peace in this chaotic day.
Turning towards the sound of murmuring coming from the entrance of the ward, she was just in time to watch the Headmaster stroll back inside followed closely by Professor Snape and the boy’s father.
Lucius Malfoy…
Her blood chilled instantly when she caught sight of the familiar aristocrat. He looked terribly upset but it was those gray eyes of his that held a mad fury that rooted Hermione in her place.
She wanted to leave. Desperately. But as soon as she felt brave enough to compel her feet to move, the Headmaster had spotted her.
“Ah, Miss Granger, still here?”
“Yes sir, I was just about to return to my dorm,” she answered softly, trying to focus completely on the kind blue eyes of Dumbledore.
She couldn’t miss the puzzled look that she was receiving from the elder Malfoy though. The fury was still evident, as was the concern, but underneath it was an intensity that Hermione didn’t want to dwell on.
“Could you stay for a bit longer? You had only briefly discussed with us what had happened and we wish to go over it thoroughly while it is still fresh in your mind. If that is agreeable with you?”
“Yes, of course, Headmaster.”
Before she could begin recanting what had transpired, she became all too aware that Lucius Malfoy had gotten closer to her. He was still a few feet away from her, but he might as well have been looming directly over her if the pounding of her heart was anything to go on.
He trapped her in his gaze as he looked from her to his son before finally speaking,
“Miss Granger, I would like to thank you for saving my son. I am truly grateful for your actions.” Only the manners instilled in her from childhood allowed her to stammer out a quick, “You’re welcome,” before shuffling out of his line of sight.
He quickly took her previous spot next to his son’s bed and grasped the immobile hand that had been placed on top of the bed sheet. The act itself wasn’t nearly as shocking as the affection pouring through it. She would never believe this intimidating man could be capable of such emotions.
Something tugged at her, deep inside her chest, and Hermione named it sympathy. No one deserved to be in this heartbreaking position. Not even someone like Lucius Malfoy.