Love Thy Enemy (Finished)

Healing Sleep

Draco

I sit on the straight-backed wooden chair with my head in my hands. Hermione is laying between the crisp white sheets of the hospital wing bed. She hasn't moved since I stepped out of the vanishing cabinet and ran over to her. Since then she has been as still as a statue. But she is breathing. I keep running that fact through my mind. She is breathing. 

It is late, though I'm not sure of the exact time. Madam Pomfrey retired to bed a few hours ago and only allowed me to stay when Professor McGonagall came in and told her in no uncertain words that I was allowed to stay with her. I scoot my chair closer and reach under the blanket to hold her hand. Leaning forward, I rest my head on her chest and listen to the faint thumping of her heart and the whoosh of her breath. My thoughts turn to the events of a few hours ago.

I step out of the cabinet just in time to see Nicola tip the vial of poison green liquid into Hermione's willing mouth. It makes me stagger, the willingness of Hermione to drink the poison. She wouldn't give up for much. Then I see the blood. It is pouring from her in waves and she is the color of bleached parchment. I forget all about Nicola. I barely notice her disappearance as I run over to Hermione and drop to the ground next to her. Her blood pooled on the floor instantly soaks through my robes and saturates the knees of my slacks beneath. 

"Hermione," I choke out as her eyes flutter open. She locks on my face for just a moment and mumbles something I can't make out. Then her eyes close and her chest stills. I scoop her up and shove up to my feet. By now McGonagall and Flitwick have entered the room through the cabinet and are looking around for Nicola. But she is long gone and I don't even care. I cradle Hermione to my chest and turn to face them. McGonagall's breath catches but she doesn't waste any time. She tries to take Hermione from me, but I refuse to let her go. 

"I'm stronger Professor, just let me carry her," I say, my voice surprisingly strong.

"Follow me, we may be able to save her but we must hurry," says McGonagall and she turns and heads straight back through the vanishing cabinet. I follow right behind her. My hands are shaking and I feel like I am being ripped apart. I can barely feel Hermione's weight as we run through the halls. I do my best not to jostle her as I lay her on the small bed of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey immediately shoos me from the room and slams the heavy doors behind me. 

I stare at the thick wood for a moment, completely lost. I won't be able to survive this if they can't save her. I will not live without her. The sight of her pale body, limp and mangled and unmoving intrudes on my thoughts and for the first time in my life, I lose it. I slide down the wall to a heap on on the floor and drop my head to my knees. Tears stream unimpeeded down my cheeks as fear and sadness and guilt and worry wrack through me. I feel like I am going to split in two and I beg to whatever god may be listening to either save her or take me. 

I sit there for what seems an eternity. Eventually the tears stop, not because I feel better, but because I have no more to give. I am completely empty. But finally I hear scuffling behind the door and just manage to scramble to my feet before the doors swing open and McGonagall emerges. It is impossible to read anything on her face and I have no idea if Hermione is alive or dead until Mcgonagall's mouth opens and she tells me.

"She is alive, but she is still unconscious and may be for some time. Madam Pomfrey had to give her three full bottles of blood replenishing potion to replace the amount of blood she lost. She did what she could for the wounds Nicola carved all over her body but only time will tell us if they will scar or heal. But all of that pales in comparison to the effects of the poison. We have given her a beazor and every other antidote we know of, but because we don't know what the poison was, we cannot treat it specifically. We have guessed and done all we can. Now we just have to wait and see what happens. The rest is up to Hermione," says McGonagall.