Dramione - Hate Is A Strong Word

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

~Draco's POV~

Everything was white. Too white. My vision blurred and the sounds muted, as though I was underwater. I started struggling, restless to get to the surface. Panicking my body flailed about. My legs thrashed and my arms battled the water as I got closer to escaping. Finally I took in a huge breath of air as my head emerged from the water. At the same time my eyes flew open.

Swivelling around, I took in my new surroundings. I was in St Mungo's. Wracking my brain, I tried to remember what had happened. A dungeon, at the Manor. My father. Pain, endless pain. Hermione screaming. I gasped. Hermione, what had happened to her? I needed to find her. I had to see her.

Slowly I clambered out of my bed on the ward, which was much more comfortable than it looked. Magic, I supposed. I was dressed in a plain light blue top and matching pants. I looked horrendous, I should have stayed in bed to hide my hideous outfit from the world. But Hermione was more important. The ward I was on was empty. Beds lay in neat rows against the wall, each with clean, white sheets, and all awaiting their next unfortunate owner. I crossed the hall, to the door at the opposite end. Looking for any signs of healers, I sneaked along the corridor; I knew the healers wouldn't want me up and about, and would definitely want to check on me. But Hermione was more important.

I peered into all the doors along the corridor, checking for any sign of Hermione. There was a small boy lying on one of the beds with a healer holding out a horrid potion for him to drink. The healer snapped her head in the direction of the door and I quickly moved out of sight. I carried on to the next door.

By the end of the corridor, I had begun to panic. Where was she? Then a horrible thought crossed my mind, one I couldn't un-think. What if she's dead? I shook my head at the possibility. She did suffer through the Cruciatus Curse multiple times. I shook my head again. I wouldn't think like that. I couldn't think like that. My breathing grew heavier and I fought back tears as the panic rose and swelled within me. I ran back along the corridor again. Not caring about the pain across my chest and my splitting headache.

I ran straight into the arms of another healer. He gripped me steady,

"Let's get you back on your bed, Draco."

"No! I need to find Hermione."

"Hermione is resting, just like you should be." His voice warm and comforting.

I took in a shaky breath and gathered myself, "Sh-she's okay?" I asked.

He pursed his lips, "She will be. But she'll need you as strong as you can be; she suffered severe internal injuries due to the Cruciatus Curse and some small cuts along her body, just like yourself. So I suggest you get some rest, and you can see her when you are stronger."

I looked down, giving in.

"Come on Draco, you too suffered immensely and need to recover fully. I can assure you running about the corridor is not going to solve anything."

I nodded this time and let him help me walk back to the ward. I got back into the bed and stared up at the ceiling whilst the healer did some checks on my injuries.

I was surprised to see the gashes on my arms and chest were nearly healed, merely deep red reminders of my cruel father etched into my body in the form of scars. I was amazed at how fast the gashes had healed; this type of magic was incredibly intriguing. I lay my head back on the pillow and before I knew it I had drifted to sleep.

I spent most of the next few days sat near Hermione's bed. Once I had gotten enough rest, the healers allowed me to see her and stay with her as much as I liked, providing they could do routine check-ups every couple of hours. I knew they also wanted to keep an eye on me, and staying with Hermione let them subtly do so. Hermione was usually asleep, the healers told me with the potions she had been given she needed to sleep to allow them to work. So I let her, I sat patiently by her side, gazing at her sleeping form for hours on end until being escorted back to my own ward each night to get some rest. This became a routine for me after five days, until suddenly Hermione responded:

Stroking circles along the back of her hand, I whispered to her in a quiet voice, "Hermione you are so strong, so unbelievably strong. People may look at you now and see a fairly fragile young woman. But I know the truth, you are brave and beautiful, kind and caring, strong and determined, intelligent and imaginative. I'm sorry Hermione, for getting you involved in my father's issues, but thank you for standing up to him, something I was too afraid of before you. I love you Hermione Granger, you are the most wonderful witch alive and I want you so desperately to know how much I love you."

Hermione's eyes flickered and they met mine, "I love you too Draco Malfoy, with all my heart."

She smiled and I grinned back. I brought her into a warm hug, cradling her body into mine.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

I laughed, "Me? You're asking me when you're the one lay on the bed having only just properly woken up."

"Yes." She replied simply.

"Well then I'm fine, they healed me up perfectly. Good as new." I winked, she beamed.

"Excellent! I feel great and well rested, surely they'll let us go today?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, they're still checking up on me."

At that point a healer walked in, she smiled and came to Hermione's bedside.

"Wonderful, how do you feel Miss Granger?" she said whilst giving Hermione an unusual check-up, occasionally feeling for a pulse along her ankle, stomach, ears and toes. Then, seemingly randomly picking up her arms and bending them at the joints, circling them around to get them loose. She repeated the motion with her legs.

"I feel great Healer."

The Healer smiled, "Well I'll go and report your check up to the head healer and she can decide what to do with you from there. For now though, you've got a visitor." She hurried out the room.

Hermione and I exchanged a glance, before continuing to stare at the door in which the healer just bustled out of. A rustle of movement diverted our attention to the far end of the ward, where, with a flash of green light Professor McGonagall stepped out the old, dusty fireplace, which looked long forgotten as part of the Floo Network in St Mungo's.

Professor McGonagall strode towards us, her lips pressed into a thin line, as her eyes grazed across Hermione and me. I stood up to greet her,

"Hello Headmistress." I smiled.

She nodded, "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger." She drew a chair in the air, with her wand, and it materialised next to mine, dropping to the floor with a thud, McGonagall sat down.

"I'm terribly sorry, to the pair of you, for what you've just been through," she began, "I should have found you earlier to prevent you of all these injuries and-"

"Professor." I interrupted. "Please, the only person who has to apologise is my father and there's more chance of Harry Potter turning to the dark side than that happening. So don't blame yourself for my father's inexcusable actions."

Her eyes glazed with tears, but she didn't speak.

Hermione looked at her, "Thank you for saving us Professor."

She lifted her head up, "It is my duty to protect my students, especially the best Head Boy and Girl Hogwarts has seen in years." She smiled warmly at us.