As Hermione cautiously rounded the corner, her footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit corridor, a sense of unease settled in her chest. The streets seemed eerily quiet tonight, the usual bustling energy replaced by an ominous stillness that made her skin prickle with apprehension. Her hand tightened around the strap of her satchel, her wand nestled securely inside.
A flickering torch cast dancing shadows along the stone walls, playing tricks on her eyes as she walked forward. It was then that she heard it—the muffled sound of hurried footsteps accompanied by low, menacing voices. Instinctively, Hermione pressed herself against the cold stone, her heart hammering in her ears.
Peering cautiously around the edge of the wall, Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. Two figures clad in dark robes were dragging someone unceremoniously along the street by their feet.
They walked some more and dumped them, leaving as they snickered about something.
Hermione’s mind raced as she assessed the situation. She knew she couldn’t let them get away with this, not when someone’s safety was at stake. Hermione’s mind raced with possibilities as she cautiously approached the figure left behind by the dark-robed individuals, wand in her hand.
A figure lay sprawled on the ground, bathed in the sickly glow of the moonlight.Her heart lurched within her chest as she recognized the familiar platinum blond hair, now matted with dark, viscous blood.
Hermione stood frozen, her gaze locked on the figure before her. Draco Malfoy, his usually haughty demeanour shattered, lay before her. Despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her—anger, resentment, and even fear—Hermione couldn’t deny the pang of empathy that tugged at her heart.
Memories of their past animosity flooded her mind: the cutting remarks, the disdainful glares, and the countless clashes during their time at Hogwarts. But standing there, witnessing Malfoy in such a vulnerable state, she found herself at a crossroads.
On one hand, there was the undeniable truth of Malfoy’s past affiliations with the Death Eaters, the dark mark on his arm a constant reminder of the choices he had made. The scars of war were still fresh, and trust was a fragile commodity in these uncertain times. Could she really extend a hand to someone who had been on the opposing side?
On the other hand, Hermione couldn’t ignore her values of compassion and redemption. She had seen firsthand the power of second chances, the capacity for change even in the darkest of souls. Was it possible that Malfoy, too, deserved a chance to prove himself, to break free from the shadows of his past?
As she stood there, weighing her options, Hermione felt a wave of empathy wash over her. Regardless of their history, she couldn’t bear to see anyone in such evident pain and vulnerability.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped forward. She would offer her help, not out of obligation or forgiveness for the past, but because it was the right thing to do. Hermione came to his side, her hands trembling as she assessed his condition. Unconscious.
Hermione's fingers pressed against his neck, searching for a pulse. Small relief washed over her as she felt a faint but steady beat beneath her touch. Looking at him she could see his black shirt was wet and it was most likely wet with blood. With trembling hands, she carefully lifted his shirt, revealing the source of it—a long gash across his abdomen. Blood still sluggishly bubbled from it and it was setting a horrific contrast against his pale skin.
Her breath hitched at the sight of the wound, but she pushed aside her fear and focused on assessing the damage. It was bad, but he was still alive. With a sense of urgency, Hermione took out a sweater from her satchel and pressed it against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.
"Malfoy," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the still night air. "Malfoy, can you hear me?"
There was no response, but she couldn't afford to waste any time. He was Draco Malfoy, but he was bleeding on the street after…after whatever happened.
With determination etched into her every movement, Hermione gritted her teeth as she carefully lifted Malfoy’s limp form into her arms, mindful of his injuries. The weight of his unconscious body pressed against her, a stark reminder of the urgency of the situation. Blood seeped from his wounds, but right now, all that mattered was keeping him alive.
With Malfoy cradled in her arms, Hermione focused all her concentration on apparating back to her safehouse. The familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tight tube enveloped them, and moments later, they landed with a soft thud in the dimly lit room.
Setting him down gently on the nearest couch caused enough commotion for Harry's eyes to shoot open. He sat up, his hand reaching for his wand instinctively before he recognized Hermione's silhouette in the darkness.
"Hermione?" Harry whispered, his voice thick with sleep and confusion. "What's going on?" He said casting Lumos.
Hermione felt her heart pounding against her ribs, as she struggled to find the right words amidst the rush of urgency.
"It's Malfoy," she managed to say, her voice quivering but resolute. "He's hurt, badly. We can't just leave him like this. We need to help him, now."
Harry's eyes widened in shock, and he froze up.
Ron, now fully awake too, stumbled over to join them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's happening?" he mumbled, his gaze falling on Malfoy’s prone form.
"Hermione, are you out of your mind?" Harry hissed, his tone edged with anger. "Bringing him here? Are you trying to get us all killed?"
Ron's expression mirrored Harry's disbelief as he stared at Malfoy's unconscious form. "We can't risk having him here," he said, his voice low but firm. "He's a bloody Death Eater, Hermione. He could kill us in a heartbeat."
Hermione's heart sank at their reaction, but she stood her ground, "Do you see him? He's practically dying! Someone attacked him, Ron!" She gestures to the man. “It was the death eaters, I saw them.”
"You saw wrong, it must’ve been a poor wizard trying to defend himself!"
Harry shook his head, frustration was evident in every line of his body. "He's not our responsibility, Hermione," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You know what he's done, what he's capable of. We can't trust him."
Hermione's jaw clenched, her frustration mounting as she met Harry's gaze head-on. "I know what he's done, Harry. But this isn't about trust or forgiveness. This is about doing what's right."
Ron stepped forward, his tone pleading. "Hermione, I get it. I do. But bringing him here puts all of us in danger. You can't just ignore that."
"But we can't just leave him out there to die!" Hermione's voice rose, her desperation evident. "He's a human being, Ron. Regardless of what he's done in the past, he deserves a chance to live."
Harry ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "And what then, Hermione? What happens when he wakes up? Are we supposed to just pretend everything's fine?"
"We'll figure it out together," Hermione insisted, her voice unwavering. "But right now, we need to focus on saving his life."
Ron shook his head, his expression torn. "I don't like it, Hermione."
Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Me neither. But the moment he's well enough to leave, he's out of here. Understand?"
Hermione nodded, her determination unwavering despite the disapproval in Harry and Ron's eyes. "I understand," she said softly, her gaze shifting back to Malfoy's still form. "Thank you, both of you, for trusting me on this."
She took off her coat and pulled away the remains of his shirt, now exposing the horrific injury to better light. All of the jostling caused the parts that started slowly clotting to open up and create an even bigger bloody mess.
Taking a deep breath she prepared her wand. Her healing magic was mediocre at best, a skill she was just picking up now that the Death eaters were after them.
"Wait," Harry said, taking out his own wand. He'd only seen the spell be performed a few times, and only once cast it himself but it was better than nothing. “Let’s use that spell Snape used to heal him that one time,”
"Vulnera Sanentur? Harry, I’ve never cast this spell!"
Harry chewed his lip before he motioned with his wand.”Me neither, but I’ve seen it and it worked…” He waved the movement with his hand, perhaps unconsciously, but Hermione repeated it.
She took a deep breath before she nodded and they cast the spell together. "Vulnera Sanentur!”
However, nothing could've prepared anyone for what happened next.
As soon as the incantation was finished, it was like all hell broke loose- first a scream, then more blood. Malfoy's body seized, limbs thrashing in pain, back arching and head thrashing.
Hermione's heart raced as she watched in horror, her hands shaking as she tried to steady Malfoy's convulsing body. The wound on his abdomen seemed to pulse with a sinister energy, expanding before her eyes as if defying any attempts to heal it.
"No!" Hermione whispered frantically, her mind racing for a solution. She knew she had to act fast before it was too late, but the sight of Malfoy's agony paralyzed her with fear.
Harry's eyes widened in shock at the sight before him, his mind racing to find a way to stop Malfoy's suffering. "Ron, help me!"
Together, they struggled to restrain Malfoy as his body convulsed with each wave of pain, Hermione gritting her teeth against the overwhelming sense of helplessness.
"Episkey!" she cried out, her voice trembling with exertion as she directed her healing magic towards Malfoy's wound.
For a moment, it seemed as though the spell had worked, the wound closing slightly under Hermione's touch. But then, with a sickening lurch, the gash reopened, deeper and more violent than before. Blood spilt out, staining the brown couch red.
Malfoy's screams pierced the air, echoing off the walls of the safehouse as Harry and Ron fought to keep him from thrashing uncontrollably.
"Why isn't it working- Episkey!"
"S-Stop- stop," It was the hoarse hissing that caused her to do so. "Wand-" Malfoy cried out with a hoarse voice, barely heard. "Wand...away-"
Hermione's heart sank as she heard Malfoy's weak plea, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, she lowered her wand, the realization dawning on her that her magic might be exacerbating his condition.
"Put your wands away," she instructed Harry and Ron, her voice urgent. They did as told, and Harry grabbed a nearby towel, pressing it onto the bloody mess that was Malfoy's torso. The man let out a hiss at this.
Hermione knelt down so she was at face-level with Malfoy. "Malfoy," his pale face was covered with a sheen of sweat that made his platinum locks stick to his forehead. His scleras were red and tear tracks were visible down his hollow cheeks, his eyes however, were almost completely rolled back.
"Malfoy, stay awake," she urged, her voice gentle yet firm as she tried to keep Malfoy conscious. His eyelids fluttered weakly, struggling to stay open against the overwhelming pain coursing through his body.
"Malfoy," Hermione reassured him, her hand reaching out to grasp his clammy one. "Tell me what happened. Why does magic hurt you?"
His breathing was ragged, each breath a laboured struggle as he fought to cling to consciousness. His features contorted in agony, his body trembling uncontrollably beneath Hermione's touch.
Malfoy's voice was barely a whisper, strained and filled with agony. "Dark... magic..." he managed to gasp out, his eyes squeezing shut as another wave of pain washed over him.
Hermione's heart clenched at his words, a chill running down her spine as she realized the gravity of the situation. Dark magic. It explained why conventional healing spells were only making things worse.
"Who did this to you, Malfoy?" Hermione pressed gently, her grip tightening on his hand in a silent gesture of support. "We need to know so we can help you."
Malfoy's chest heaved with effort as he struggled to form coherent words. "In the alley..."
"Okay, that's not-nevermind...how can we help you? Would potions help?"
"S'magic-"
Hermione's mind raced, searching for a solution amidst the chaos of Malfoy's suffering. Potions were out of the question if magic was exacerbating his condition. They needed a different approach, something unconventional.
"Malfoy, listen to me," Hermione said, her voice steady despite the rising panic within her. "We need to find a way to neutralize the dark magic affecting you. But we can't use conventional spells or potions. Is there anything, any knowledge, that can help us?"
Malfoy's pale face was contorted in agony. He shook his head weakly, the effort visibly draining him.
"Meant...to kill-"
Hermione’s mind raced, her usual strategies limited by the knowledge that their magical solutions were only making things worse for Malfoy. She exchanged a quick glance with Harry and Ron, the latter seemed almost pleased with the situation.
"We have to think differently," Hermione muttered, her voice filled with determination. "If magic is only making it worse, then we have to try something else."
Harry furrowed his brow, his mind working through possibilities. "Muggle methods," he said slowly, as if testing the idea. "They deal with injuries without magic all the time.”
Hermione nodded in agreement. "We need to stabilize him first. First-” Hermione thought for a moment, her mind searching for her first aid lessons.”Let's elevate his legs…”
Together, they carefully adjusted Malfoy's position on the couch, Harry elevated Malfoy's legs on a stack of cushions.
Harry bit his lip, his gaze flickering between Malfoy and his friends. "We have to clean the wound and close it manually, stitch it up," he said, recalling bits of Muggle first aid knowledge.
"Stitch it up?! Like with a needle?" Ron couldn't believe this, muggles were crazy.
Hermione's mind raced, considering Harry's suggestion. The muggle way seemed like their only option at this point.
"Yes," she replied, her voice resolute. "We'll have to stitch up the wound manually. Harry, you and Ron go to the pharmacy, and buy a medical kit."
Harry nodded, his expression grim as he understood the urgency of the situation. "Right, we'll be back as soon as possible." Hermione pressed down the bloody rag in Harry's place, it was almost soaked through...
Ron looked hesitant, but he followed Harry's lead without protest. "Just... be careful, Hermione," he said softly before they both hurried out the door.
Left alone with Malfoy, Hermione focused all her attention on keeping him conscious and stable. She crossed her arms and looked at him. His skin was pale and his cheekbones were more prominent than usual. His hair was matted with blood and she just now realized that there was a gash in his hairline.
Hermione's mind raced as she assessed Malfoy's condition further, her fingers tracing the edges of the gash in his hairline with a gentle touch. The wound seemed less severe than the one on his abdomen, but it still required attention.
Raising her wand to perform Episkey, she hesitated; what if the wound was cursed too? Gently pushing aside his bangs, she inspected it—it appeared deep, possibly requiring stitches, but thankfully, the bleeding had ceased. His half-open eyes slowly fluttered shut, prompting her to shake him gently. “Malfoy, wake up,” that seemed to do the trick as he opened his eyes slowly like they were too heavy.
She could see they were still a bit red and glossed over with pain, he had prominent eyebags that were in stark contrast with his pale skin.
The wound, she remembered. I need to put some pressure on it."Accio," It was within seconds that two fluffy towels appeared and with another 'accio', a belt. Hermione set out on a task to replace the towel and use the belt to keep them in place.
The only indication Malfoy felt when she tightened it, was a hitch in his breathing.
Malfoy's eyes fluttered open, the pain evident in their depths as he struggled to focus on Hermione's face. "Granger..." he rasped, his voice barely audible.
Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's me,"
Malfoy squinted as he tried to focus on Hermione's face. "Granger... why... helping me?" he managed to gasp out, his voice strained with pain.
Hermione met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Because it's the right thing to do," she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them. "Regardless of our past, no one deserves to suffer like this."
He let out a hacky cough and blood bubbled past his hips, that's not good Hermione thought as she wiped it, before picking up the nearby mug of her cold tea. "Let me help you drink something"
Hermione lifted the mug to Malfoy's lips, supporting his head as he took small sips of the cold tea. His grip on her hand tightened slightly, his eyes searching hers with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.
"You... shouldn't..." he murmured weakly between sips, his voice barely audible.
Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry about that now, Malfoy."
Malfoy's eyelids drooped, exhaustion evident in every line of his face. "You're... too kind, Granger," he said, his voice barely a whisper as darkness threatened to consume him once more.
Hermione's heart ached at the vulnerability in Malfoy's voice, a stark contrast to the arrogance she had known him for in the past. "Rest now, Malfoy," she said thinking of the endeavour that was coming.
And as she waited for Harry and Ron to return with the medical supplies, she couldn't help but worry.