Lunar Cost - Dramione

(•_•)...21...(•_•)

"Hello, I'll be with you in one moment, dear," an older witch with yellow straw-like hair stated, bored. Hermione tried her best to not be too impatient, but she was obviously under distress, her face covered in sticky wet tears and floo powder dusted all over her Hogwarts robes, and the woman's indifference began to anger her even more. "Yes dear, how may I hel—"

"I need to see Draco Malfoy, now!" Hermione slammed her hands onto the desk the woman was sitting at and the woman merely peered up at her through her eyeglasses with an unamused look. The woman was trying hard to keep her composure and her formal work-appropriate speech.

"I'm sorry, dear, Mister Malfoy is not to have any visito—"

"I don't care! I'm seeing him whether you let me through or not." Hermione's stare was hard and cold. She was about to open her mouth to let more foul words spew from within when a junior-healer ran down the hall, frantically calling out for a "Healer Barnes."

The woman at the desk stopped the junior-healer and asked what was happening in which she said, "It's Mister Malfoy and Mister Zabini again."

The old witch got up from her seated position and walked down the hall in the direction the junior-healer led her. Alarm bells rang loud in Hermione's ears

What had happened to Blaise? What had happened to me? she thought. Werewolves are not supposed to turn voluntarily, it is always induced. Induced! He must've been poisoned! Maybe someone tampered with his potion! Why did I turn then?

Thoughts were running rampant in her head and a dull ache began to form at the front of her forehead. She found herself looking around to see if the yellow-haired witch had come back and when she saw she hadn't, she slipped past the desk and went searching for the commotion. 

Junior healers and healers alike were crowded in the hallway, staring at a scene that was unfolding right in front of them. A tall, dark skinned man was attmepting to sedate a seemingly out of control Blaise-turning-into-a-werewolf. The man sunk the large needle into Blaise's neck, but to no avail. If anything, Blaise grew angrier, more determined to resist and tear out of the arms of the aHealers holding him back from..what? Hermione looked at the target to see a limp body laying in a bed. Blond hair was missing from the side of his head, his entire body green and purple, like bruised fruit. His arm hung from the side of the bed, void of all color and feeling. And his face, god his face. Purple laid under his closed eyes; she couldn't tell if they were bruises or not. His lips were split, his cheekbone slice open. She held her breath.

Blaise didn't find the needle in the slightest bit a problem. The syringe of sedative simply broke at the needle, leaving the small metal tube embedded in his neck. Why was this happening? Hermione decided to step in.

She pushed her way violently through the crowd of unnecessarily tall people, who gave her looks of disgust and irritation. She placed herself in the doorway where shards of the door were laying lamely on the floor. The door frame was a welcome comfort to keep her standing as a rush of exhaustion infiltrated her body. Blaise continued the fight and the Healers that were attempting to contain him paid no attention to Hermione; they were more frustrated with the fact that their magic wasn't working against this patient!

"BLAISE, STOP!" Hermione yelled with all her might, her voice amplified as her wand pressed to her throat, making the surrounding people duck and cover their ears. Blaise immediately looked at Hermione, cowering slightly. "Who did this to you, Blaise?"

She tried to look into his eyes to find some hint of emotion and she was not disappointed. His eyes softened, his snout and teeth began to shrink and his eyes went from yellow to brown.

The Healers stared in awe, frozen with uncertainty of what to do for here.

Blaise returned to his human state and fell into Hermione's arms. Of course, she herself was unbalanced, so they both fell the the floor, resting in sitting positions. She repeated her question and was met by a teary-eyed man who hadn't a clue who had poisoned him.

"How did you do that?" the tall Healer, presumably Healer Barnes, probed. "How did you know that would work?"

"I've done it before."

"You've helped him before?"

"No. I'm like him."

The people that were still surrounding the scene were silent, dumbstruck from everything that had just occurred. Hermione situated Blaise to sit, leaning against the door frame as she walked over to Draco's bed. The sight immediately brought tears to her eyes. To put it bluntly, he looked dead. He seemed dead. And he felt dead. To her, it didn't feel like he was with her; she couldn't feel his energy, she couldn't feel anything. 

She stood over his lethargic body and his pendulous arm, reached out slowly to let her fingers fall on his neck, feeling for the whisper of a pulse. It was weak. It was irregular.

But it was there.

***

Draco's eyes opened slowly to meet a blinding white light. His eyelashes felt crusty with dried tears, salt tracks ran along his crow's feet, and his eyelids were heavier than lead. He figured he was in the Hospital Wing back in Hogwarts.

My eyes would have gotten used to the light by now if I was there he thought. So where am I?