Secrets and Masks

35. Olive branch

4th June

Astoria's recovery didn't happen overnight. It took two days before she opened her eyes, and a further three before she was able to sit up in bed without any assistance.

Despite the vast amounts of potions Blaise brought her and the hours and hours he spent casting - casting, and then recasting - restorative charms, the healing process was cruelly slow. The problem was her illness. It was as though the wretched blood curse absorbed all the charms and potions for itself and only left her body with the scraps.

Blaise knew this, and despite the elves continually assuring him that Astoria would be fine, that it would just take time, he refused to sleep until she could tell him so herself. He imported expensive ingredients and exotic potions from abroad, and insisted the elves drop all their other chores and focus on brewing potions. Hermione offered to help, but Quinzel would just say the elves would do it better, faster, and then shoo Hermione out of the room.

And although Astoria insisted she was on the mend, Blaise still hovered around her and carried her from their bed whenever she needed to bathe or use the bathroom. He could barely stand to be more than a foot away from her. They couldn't bring in healers without raising suspicions, so he took on every aspect of the role himself. He looked exhausted, but he never complained, not once.

Theo and Malfoy were no different. They visited Astoria's bedside multiple times a day - although, on the seventh day, when Theo tried to sneak Astoria a 'special cigarette' that he insisted would help with any pain she may be feeling, Blaise banned him from visiting her further.

Unlike the boys, Astoria seemed rather unfazed by her near brush with death. Although her husband and the elves demanded she stay in bed to rest, and although she'd been forced to swap her expensive gowns for silk dressing gowns and bedwear, Astoria was undeterred.

In the mornings, she would wake groggy and weak, drink her potions, and then she would boss the Death Eaters around from the comfort of her bed with a smile on her face and her appearance glamoured to perfection.

And Malfoy was different since Astoria's accident.

He hardly left the manor - and although he seemed to be called on assignments every few days, he never took Hermione with him. Whether she wasn't needed on those missions or he was simply making excuses not to take her, Hermione wasn't sure. But she hadn't been under the Demon Hex for almost three weeks, and she was silently grateful for the reprieve. Even if it was only temporary.

Ordinarily, when they weren't on missions together, he kept his distance from Hermione. It almost seemed like he went out of his way to avoid her. He either spent his free time with his dragon, walking Astoria around the estate, or locked away in his room.

With Astoria mostly bed-bound, Hermione found herself spending an awful lot of time in Astoria's room. She brought her flowers from the garden and helped the elves bring Astoria's meals and pots of tea. She sat with her for hours and hours, just prattling on about none sense and keeping the blonde company, and Malfoy often joined them.

Five days after Astoria's accident, minutes after Hermione had wheeled the silver tea trolley into Astoria's room, Malfoy had knocked and walked inside. He'd froze when he saw Hermione sitting at the edge of Astoria's bed, both with a cup of tea in their hands. She had expected him to turn around and leave, but surprisingly, he conjured himself a cup, made himself a drink, and took a seat by the window.

The first time it had happened, Hermione assumed it was a fluke. A one-off.

But then a pattern started to emerge. Each day, at around three in the afternoon, Malfoy would knock, enter Astoria's room with an empty mug in his hand, nod to Hermione as he made himself a cup, and then sit in the chair.